Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 707 - 706: Terrifying Characters

The out-of-control nest...

Bard Wendell paused for a moment before realizing what the other party meant.

"It’s the underground of the Eastern Region of the Holy Spirit Plain..." He raised his head, looking at Gawain and Viscount Andrew, "It seems you’ve already found its entrance?"

"The ’entrance’ issue is no longer important. The entire Sorinburg Region has been occupied by a giant plant that has spread up from the underground, probably a malfunction of your technological product," Gawain stated directly, "And your only chance now is to go and ascertain the situation inside—and then return alive."

Bard Wendell closed his eyes slightly. He seemed to have no other choice.

"I understand," he lowered his head, "I accept this opportunity."

"Very well," Gawain glanced at Viscount Andrew, then nodded at Bard, "You can relax for now. At least at this moment, you can temporarily shed the identity of a prisoner. Next, I have some questions to ask you."

The Attendant quickly brought in a chair for Bard to sit in the center of the room, while Viscount Andrew left the room due to official business. With only Gawain and the former Typhon Wolf General left, the atmosphere became gloomy until Gawain took the initiative to break the silence: "I’ve always been curious about what the once promising Wolf General went through to become an Oblivion Association believer—even changing from a Revered Knight to a dark Druid."

Bard sat straight on the chair, perhaps because he had something to do again, or maybe because he was facing the ruler of the "enemy nation," his despair seemed to fade somewhat. Upon hearing Gawain’s question, this man who hid many secrets was initially silent, but after a few seconds, he let out a light sigh.

Some things, he had never intended to bring up again, but after seeing the news of Gawain’s coronation in the newspapers and that huge skull processed into a throne, whatever he had once held onto became insignificant.

"Your Majesty, have you ever had faith?" He asked Gawain, looking into his eyes.

Gawain smiled slightly: "If you regard a certain belief as faith, I do, but if you mean a specific god, I don’t."

"Then you surely can’t understand what it means for someone’s faith to collapse in an instant," Bard said with a bitter smile, shaking his head, "Especially when facing life and death..."

"Although I would like to correct your narrow understanding of ’faith’ right now, I am more interested in your ’faith collapse,’" Gawain adjusted his sitting posture, leaning against the chair back, looking at the Wolf General who fell from being a devout follower of the War God to becoming a dark Druid, seemingly amused, "Let me guess, what did you face... the truth of a god? Did you discover that your god had died, or that it was just a man-eating monster?"

Bard suddenly widened his eyes, staring at Gawain: "How did you..."

"You think only you have faced so-called truths, bearing so-called missions? The world is so vast, why should all truths just happen to be in the hands of a dark sect?"

Bard breathed heavily, it took a long time before he finally calmed down, closing his eyes, with a self-deprecating smile on his face: "Then we really are a joke..."

"The destructiveness of this joke is not small," Gawain shook his head, "Tell me, how did you become like this?"

Bard kept his eyes closed, images from his memories flashed through his mind—

He recalled it was a cold winter, the Winterwolf Fortress-Longwind Fortress confrontation area was icy and snowy, it was the coldest winter he had ever experienced, for nearly half a month, it snowed almost every day.

He remembered that day the pioneering knights patrolled the border in ice and snow, the sudden snowstorm interfered with the vision, forcing the soldiers to stray off course while seeking shelter from the wind...

He remembered it was near the Palamere Highlands where the soldiers briefly encountered the Anzu Knights, the fierce battle in the snow lasted only a short time, after realizing the unfavorable situation, he led his troops to break south, trying to detour back to Typhon through the hilly area at the end of the Dark Mountain Range...

He remembered the sudden attack at the end of the Dark Mountain Range, near the Gondor wasteland, where the exhausted pioneering knights were ambushed by those creatures like gory titans, the monsters continuously surged from the direction of the wasteland, the knights were outnumbered, he killed one monster after another, until his sword shattered, until the last comrade fell...

He also fell, with a heart-piercing mortal wound, theoretically impossible to survive, yet still reopened his eyes, lying in a place like a magic laboratory, body covered with tubes, half soaked in solution, surrounded by black-robed figures walking around, someone loudly announced the success of the experiment beside...

"...Since that day, I became one of them," Bard had already opened his eyes, speaking as he recalled, then in front of Gawain, he opened his coat’s front, revealing the cost of his resurrection, "This is the ’gift’ they gave me."

Gawain frowned, seeing Bard Wendell’s chest covered with a steel plate, the edges of the steel plate on flesh and skin showing a circle of ugly scars, further extending sutures toward the direction of arteries, looking rather eerie.

"Changing clothes in prison required inspection, this thing startled the soldiers. I explained it was the result of a magic experiment accident, but scarier things he hadn’t seen yet..."

Bard laughed, using a special technique to lightly tap the side of the steel plate a few times, accompanied by the soft click of mechanical locks releasing, the steel plate opened as expected, revealing the more stunning structure inside: a transparent flexible substance wraps his chest cavity, like a kind of bladder storing semi-transparent solution inside, a heart mixed with flesh and metal components floats in the solution, rhythmically beating continuously, beside the heart, auxiliary pipes and magic symbols are visible, the latter emitting a faint glow illuminating Bard’s entire chest cavity.

This setup must have been operating for many years, looking like it may continue to operate.

"Did they implant an artificial heart in you?" Gawain frowned, he wasn’t surprised by the Oblivion Association’s biotechnology, after all, it’s an organization capable of creating artificial gods, having mastery over the fabrication and transplantation of artificial organs is unsurprising, even in mundane transcendent organizations outside the Oblivion Association, similar technologies exist—

Some elderly Mages and extreme Druids prolong their lives via various biological reformations or transcendent rituals, while aristocratic rulers don’t shy away from implanting devices to enhance their deteriorating body functions. Ultimately, the upper-level technological standard of this world has never been low, the only issues are just popularity and cost.

What puzzled him was whether Bard Wendell becoming a dark Druid was solely because of this heart?

"You’re doing this to repay this favor?" Gawain frowned at Bard, "I’m afraid it’s not just that, is it?"

"...What they implanted in me was not just this heart, but also the ’knowledge’ that flooded into my mind along with it," Bard shook his head as expected, "A regular heart couldn’t power the body of a powerful Order Supernatural, so they used something called ’divine evils Factor’ to create it, and these divine evils Factors... carry the knowledge of the gods.

"Since that day, I stayed in the underground ruins of the Oblivion Association for three whole years, accompanied by darkness and nightmares. In the nightmares, I gazed directly at those indescribable monsters, called upon the War God I worshiped, yet could only sink deeper into the nightmare. I saw Their malice, Their madness, and saw Them in a false chaotic palace calculating the moment of doomsday...

"In the end, I thought I was already dead, dead from severe body and soul rejection. The priest who was taking care of me even dragged me to the laboratory, preparing to perform an autopsy after my death, but at the last moment, I woke up from the nightmare.

"I lost my faith in the War God — not just from within myself, but from inside out, all the talents and powers once blessed by the War God vanished entirely.

"And then, I became a priest of the Oblivion Association, just as you see."

Bard’s recollection ended, and Gawain, with a frown, digested the amount of information in the other’s words.

Vaguely, he guessed the purpose of those Oblivion Association believers’ experiments on Bard.

Those evil cult followers used surgical and mental modification methods to forcibly destroy Bard’s ’mental Steel Stamp’! They snatched a ’Revered Knight’ from the domain of the War God!

This genius yet devilish experiment reminded him of those Defiers and the persistent ’ghosts’ Veronica mentioned.

Judging from the current intelligence, he was almost certain that the Oblivion Association had Defiers active in its depths.

Gawain placed his hand on the table, unconsciously tapping the surface with his index finger, his gaze sweeping over the artificial heart beating in Bard’s chest, suddenly feeling a bit emotional—

The person before him was initially just an ’experimental subject’ in the eyes of the Oblivion Association believers.

Completely insane evil cult followers and out-of-control Defiers wouldn’t care about a person’s status in the secular world. They selected Bard Wendell likely just for his value as an experimental material, and if Bard’s identity as the ’Wolf General’ had any significance to those cultists, it was probably just to further deteriorate the relations between Typhon and Anzu, and fuel the intensification of internal pressures and conflicts in Anzu.

Thinking a bit conspiratorially, Gawain suspected that Bard Wendell and his subordinates’ encounter with an aberration attack near the Dark Mountain Range was arranged by those cultists — the Oblivion Association unquestionably has a secret and complex relationship with the Gondor wasteland. The only surprising thing might be that they already had the ability to drive some aberrations away from the great walls so many years ago... Perhaps, the attack Bard Wendell encountered was the Oblivion Association’s first attempt to sabotage and infiltrate the great walls?

It’s truly a huge, complex, and secretive plan, with a surprising span of time and space. But if this plan was devised by one or several ’Defiers,’ Gawain wouldn’t be so surprised.

They can plan something for a millennium, achieve one thing in a millennium.

"Defiers..." Gawain sighed softly, his gaze seemingly falling afar, "What a terrifying group of ghosts..."

...

Veronica—or rather Ophelia Norton, at this moment, stood expressionlessly on the plaza of Saint Lu An Cathedral, looking at the gathered nuns before her.

After completing the reconstruction of order at the Cathedral of the Holy Light and assisting the White Knights in taking over the Northern Church, she came to the southern borders with the second batch of ’migration teams,’ and at the invitation of Grand Shepherd Lait, came to the White Knights’ training base, which was formerly the southern borders District Religious Headquarters Lu’an City.

Her first purpose here was to observe the White Knights’ training process and the new Holy Light equipment, and the second purpose was to look at the Nun Group just established by the Southern Church, and to promote the nuns conforming to the new religious doctrine to other districts of the Empire.

The former Defier, now the Saint Princess, slowly moved her gaze, the young nuns straightened their chests under her gaze, their expressions serious and earnest—they wore unified white Priestess Robes, clearly modified for better mobility, and held high metal Magic Wands in their hands. These metal Magic Wands had peculiar mechanical and magic symbol structures at both ends, evidently a type of new Magic Transmission Terminal...

Besides the Magic Wand essential for clergymen, each nun was also equipped with a lightweight Magic Transmission Terminal bracer and mechanically enclosed gauntlets on their arms, carrying Prayer Books and potion bottles on their waists—and certainly, the emblem as clergymen was indispensable. That sacred emblem was printed on each nun’s combat backpack.

"The combat backpack is lightweight and considers aesthetics and comfort..." Lait said beside Veronica.

"So..." Veronica held the platinum scepter, slowly saying, "This is the Nun Group just completed training here in the southern borders?"

"The official name is ’Armed Nun,’ and the leader of each combat echelon is called a ’War Nun,’" Lait nodded, "They have indeed just completed training, but they are already reliable priests. Every girl is a steadfast and courageous Holy Light Warrior, and should be able to loyally spread the gospel of the Holy Light and the Empire’s new order."

Veronica felt a fluctuation in emotions she hadn’t experienced in hundreds of years: "...And the things in their hands are the tools they use to spread the gospel?"

"Yes, the tentative name is ’Angel of the Gospel,’" Lait nodded with some pride, smiling, "When not firing, it can be used as a Magic Wand—to release spells of Holy Light healing."

When not firing, it can be used as a Magic Wand...

Veronica/Ophelia took a soft breath, gently closing her eyes.

The Cecil Clan... truly a frightening group.