“Fucking hell,” Hadjar whispered. He adjusted his collar and positioned it a little higher so that the cold snow didn’t fall on the back of his neck. It was just as cold as he remembered it being in the Black Mountains of Balium. “I think we’re the only ones who don’t know where we’re going and why.”
They walked in silence for a while.
“Do we have a plan?” Hadjar touched his spatial ring.
Einen glanced at Dora. Given the way her long ears were twitching as they peeked out from under her fur cap, she was eavesdropping on their conversation. And so were the Dinos siblings. They didn’t really trust each other.
“It’s tricky. We need to be patient.”
Hadjar agreed. They’d rashly joined the nobles on their quest and had gotten into a lot of trouble as a result. It would now be difficult to improve their situation. Their options were severely limited, not just by the narrow bridge, but also by the station of the other disciples as well. While ‘The Holy Sky’ School claimed that only power mattered, not one’s birth, that was not the case in reality. Perhaps it was true among the petty nobility, but not among the true aristocracy. No matter how poorly the current Head of the Predatory Blades clan treated his nephew and niece, if something happened to them, he would be obliged to take decisive action. And the ruler of the elves doted on his daughter. Their own feelings were an issue as well… Hadjar looked at Anise. The girl, even though she was trying to hide it, was clearly listening in on their conversation. Maybe she’d already learned the language of the Islands. Spirit Knights had a perfect memory, without which they wouldn’t have been able to learn Imperial level Techniques. More importantly… Could he deliver a lethal blow if it came down to it?
“Any ideas?” Tom put his hands on his hips and stared at the huge doors.
They’d crossed the invisible bridge and entered a snow-covered stone terrace. The gates loomed before them. Admittedly, the two statues that seemed to be forever locked in a swordfight didn’t exactly look the part.
They seemed to flow smoothly into each other without any connecting seams. There were no bulky hinges or gap that might lift up. There seemed to be no way these gates could open.
“Let me try.”
Dora waved her hand. A wave of willpower surged forth from the tips of her frozen fingers and struck the gates. Nothing happened. Only a ringing echo rolled through the mountains as a result.
“Amazing,” Dora sighed. She put her glove back on, went to the gates, and ran her hand over them. “There are no cracks or grooves. It looks like a solid panel embedded in the stone.”
“If that were the case,” Anise walked over to the spot where the steel of the gates met the granite of the wall, “it would’ve had some gaps.”
While the nobles were trying to solve the puzzle, Hadjar decided it was time to cheat a little.
“Analysis,” he ordered.
His neural network had only a fraction of its processing power available to work with, but he hoped it would be enough. Fortunately, the computing module didn’t let him down.
Chapter 676
A greenish web of shimmering threads appeared before Hadjar’s eyes. No one else saw it, of course.
It covered the iron gates, filling every nook, cranny, and dent of the bas-relief, then wrapped itself around the statues, like the arms of a gentle lover. After tracing the entire shape of the gates, the network detached itself from them and moved to the side. The analysis had already begun.
The projected image began to change, taking on different forms. Many different numbers and formulas passed across it, and Hadjar had no idea what they meant. He was certain that he wouldn’t be able to guess their meaning no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps they’d once been added to the neuronet in order to grant him the ability to walk. Maybe his rebirth in this nameless world had rendered them obsolete.
Fifteen minutes later, his neural network provided a rather surprising answer. Had he spent a couple of weeks meditating at the foot of the gates, he might’ve come to a similar conclusion, but he never would’ve guessed it right away.
Closing his eyes, he tried to shake off the oppressive feeling of shame. The fact that he’d cheated bothered him greatly. He was already a slave to the Sword and didn’t want to become dependent on his neural network as well.
Yes, it was obviously great that, thanks to this technology, he had managed to come up with an answer that would’ve probably taken him weeks to grasp on his own, if he ever managed it at all, but that was no excuse for cheating.
Pushing Tom aside, he approached the gate. The young man yelped in annoyance as his discussion with Dora was rudely interrupted without an apology, but Hadjar ignored him. Stopping a couple of feet away from his goal, he summoned the Black Blade, which instantly appeared in his hand, glowing with a pale blue light.
“What are you doing?” Tom exclaimed in surprise.
“Solving the riddle. Just watch.”
Holding his blade in front of him, he assumed the same pose as the right figure on the depiction in front of him. For a moment, there was nothing but silence...
...till Tom opened his big mouth.
“Do you really think that playing charades will help?” He asked in a mocking tone.
“I need a partner,” was all Hadjar said in response.
To a degree, he was thankful that Tom was in their squad. Had he gone on this journey with real mercenaries, the jokes would’ve been much, much worse, and equally unfunny. Hell, a fight would’ve probably broken out, forcing him to postpone everything until he’d managed to calm them down. No one would’ve been killed, probably, but it would’ve still been an inconvenience.
So yes, he was actually lucky to be in a squad with stuck-up aristocrats who knew how to behave, despite them being untrustworthy. Tom could poke fun all he wanted, but even he knew that Hadjar wasn’t the kind of person that fooled around.
Anise stood next to Hadjar, blade at the ready. With the two of them standing next to each other, it was clear that her sword was about a hand and a half longer than the Black Blade.
“What do you need me to do?” She asked without so much as a hint of mockery in her voice. Unlike her brother, she was taking this rather seriously.
“Can you mimic the other figure on the bas-relief?”
“How accurate does it need to be?”
“To a T,” Hadjar replied after a short pause.
Anise nodded and sheathed her sword. Turning toward the gates, she spent the next fifteen minutes examining them. From time to time, she’d trace their surface with her finger.
After an additional five minutes of meditation, she assumed the pose of the figure on the left.
“Ready,” she said.
Hadjar raised an eyebrow and nodded. Even though the pose and the movements of her figure were much less complex than his were, the speed with which she’d memorized it all was amazing. What would’ve taken him weeks to accomplish had taken her under half an hour. Sure, one could argue that her perception was better because she was a Spirit Knight, but still... Credit where credit was due. It’d be dumb of him to claim that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing miracles being performed by those who followed the Way of the Sword. All he could really do was make peace with the fact that there were people who were much more powerful and capable than him.
Taking a deep breath, he made the first move.
Sword firmly clutched in his hand, he rotated his wrist, drawing a complex pattern in the air with the tip of his blade. Once he was done, he pointed it at Anise’s right ankle. She, with a smoothness of movement that seemed rather unnecessary in Hadjar’s opinion, took a wide step to the side. She then made a sort of U-turn.
Had it been an enemy standing across from him and not Anise, he would’ve instantly stabbed them in the foot and kicked snow into their eyes. After that, he would’ve swung his sword at them, attacking with so much power that his blow would’ve been impossible to block.
After Anise dodged, he repe
ated the same actions that she’d made. Moving back and to the side, he looked like he was swimming through the snow.
Anise, twirling around in a wide and beautiful spin, let Hadjar pass by her. Her dress rose and fluttered around her as she kicked snow dust into the air. By the High Heavens, she looked like a dancer, not a warrior. But this illusion lasted only as long as snowflakes last in the sun.
Finishing her spin, Anise plunged her sword into the ground, drawing a white arc in the air.
Hadjar barely managed to ignore his instincts and keep from blocking the attack that would’ve probably cut him in half. Instead, he stepped to the side and performed a somersault. Landing on his left hand, he swept his leg through the air, just barely missing Anise’s temple. She, instead of cutting off his foot, leaned back and bent down, kicking him in the knee with her left foot.
Having gathered the necessary momentum, he landed on his feet and extended his blade in front of him. If Anise decided to get up instead of dodge, she’d end up impaling herself on it. But the girl spun once more and, almost falling over, pointed her blade at Hadjar’s abdomen.
The style depicted on the gates was definitely beautiful and elegant, but it went against everything Hadjar knew about fighting. What was the point of all these wide sweeps and exaggerated movements reminiscent of elaborate dances? The point of sword fighting wasn’t to show off, but to finish your opponent off as quickly as possible! Your opponent wasn’t going to just stand there and watch you perform your fancy moves. They’d use the first chance they got to kill you!
Unsurprisingly, once it was all over, Hadjar was out of breath and sweaty. Anise, on the other hand, looked like she hadn’t moved a muscle. Despite the fact that she was smaller and standing on a platform below his own, it seemed like she was the one looking down on him.
“It appears you weren’t simply fooling around,” Tom said, snapping Hadjar out of his thoughts.
Dismissing the Black Blade, he hurried toward the gates. Instead of the iron doors, there was now a very dark and long hallway ahead of them.
“They just...”
“...disappeared,” Einen nodded. “They simply vanished, my barbarian friend. Without so much as causing a ripple in the World River.”
“That’s impossible,” Dora said.
“The bridge we crossed also seemed impossible.” Tom snorted. “From what we’ve seen so far, the ancients knew a lot about manipulating energy. Perhaps their way of cultivation was weaker than our own, but, in some ways, they were stronger than we are.”
Hadjar was about to take a step forward, but then he realized that Anise was still holding the tip of her blade pointed at his abdomen.
Chapter 677
“A nise, what are you doing?”
Dora walked over to her friend, but the girl didn’t budge. Her blade remained pointed at Hadjar.
“I’d like to fight you,” she suddenly said.
Dora shook her head sadly and took a step back. All cultivators would eventually do something like this. One could meditate until the world ended, learn the most powerful Techniques, consume the rarest of plants and potions, but all of it was worthless without firsthand experience. Because of this, many, if not all, cultivators were constantly searching for adventure and worthy foes. All of them wished to better themselves and become stronger. And what better way was there to achieve that than to fight others?
Hadjar tilted his head, looking into the girl’s emerald eyes.
“We’ll fight,” he said, “but not right now.”
Tense silence filled the air. Emerald stared at azure. They stood still for almost a minute, until Anise finally sheathed her sword.
“I’ll hold you to that, Hadjar Darkhan,” she said and led the way into the hallway.
Tom hurried after her. As he passed Hadjar, he gave him a sly smile that said: ‘You’re a dead man.’
“Come on, guys,” Dora urged and went after the siblings, leaving the two friends alone on the terrace.
“Why did you agree to fight her?”
Einen took something from his spatial artifact and slipped it into the pocket of Hadjar’s coat. The latter didn’t even bother to ask his friend what he’d just given him. Knowing Einen, it was something that would come in handy later.
The two friends followed the trio of nobles. At the gates, Hadjar paused and turned to Einen.
“Would you have declined?” he asked. Einen knew that he was referring to Dora challenging him, and he also knew that Hadjar suspected that his friend had feelings for her. Ones much stronger than just friendship.
“I wouldn’t have, no,” Einen admitted immediately.
Hadjar nodded and continued down the hallway. The moment they crossed the threshold, warm air enveloped them in a gentle embrace. After he walked forward a few more steps and made sure he wasn’t imagining all of this, Hadjar chuckled and took off his coat. Tossing it over his shoulder, he trailed after Dora.
Tom, who was at the front of the group, was treading more carefully than when they’d been crossing the bridge.
“Something’s off...”
“Is it now?” Dora asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. It was odd hearing her be so rude. “We’re walking through an ancient monastery that was hidden by a powerful spell for thousands of years. A bridge made of pure energy leads to it and it has gates that disappear after you’ve performed some sort of complex ritual... And you just now realized things are weird?”
Just as she finished her rant, they came to a halt. Their first steps forward had been made in complete darkness, but as soon as they covered some distance, torches began to light up. The light they gave off wasn’t the illumination of the ordinary orange flame, but a blue like ice. Hadjar had been halfway convinced that he’d seen it all by now, but the world just kept on surprising him.
Pillars lining the hallway began to light up one after another, blue streaks coiling around them like thick snakes. If not for the snowflakes they let out instead of sparks, one would’ve thought that they were dealing with blue flame and not ice.
The light they gave off wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold, either. It was, however, bright enough to drive away the gloom and reveal numerous bas-reliefs on the walls and pillars.
“If the Imperial Chancellery could see this...”
“They’d kill us,” Tom said. “These are remnants of the past, are they not? From the Age of the Hundred Kingdoms?”
Hadjar approached one of the pillars. The hallway was filled with them. Who knew how many more were hidden by the darkness beyond?
The bas-reliefs showed scenes familiar to any soldier. Departures, marches, battles, funeral pyres, death... Some figures were giving orders to others. “Obey or die,” they’d shout. Little did the soldiers know that the former usually led to the latter.
Removing a torch from a nearby sconce, he turned around and rejoined the others.
“Come on, let’s not waste time,” he said, leading the way. “Where to, Tom?”
“Turn right up ahead,” he replied, clutching the jade tablet in his hand. Hadjar had no idea how that map worked. “After that, keep going straight until you reach the training hall.”
Despite the fact that Hadjar was walking very quickly, his companions still managed to find the time to admire the scenes depicted on the pillars.
“Have you ever heard the legend of Erhard, the Last King?”
“Anise!” Tom exclaimed. “That’s not something you can share with commoners!”
“Give it a rest, Tom,” Dora said, having had enough of him and his arrogance. “We’re inside Greven’Dor! Even mentioning this place can lead to a death sentence! Do you honestly think it matters at this point?”
Tom muttered something in response, but no one heard what he’d said. You couldn’t really refute such an argument.
“The legends say that the King never died...” Anise approached one of the pillars and raised her torch to examine it. The lifeless blue light revealed a couple of scenes. “That
when the invaders came, he fought for the first Empire. But-”
“But he was ultimately betrayed,” Hadjar said for some reason. “They used his beloved against him. He died after that.”
“Did you hear about that during your travels, too?”
Hadjar didn’t answer. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something about all of this seemed off.
“It doesn’t matter,” Anise said. “Some believed that he was really dead, but others claimed that he was forced into an eternal slumber and imprisoned.”
Hadjar stumbled. The memory of a shadowy figure pacing around a sarcophagus wrapped in chains appeared in his mind.
“And that if someone finds and opens his tomb, they will release a terrible misfortune upon the whole world. If the King rises again, he’ll start another war. But this time, it’ll be-”
“Look out!”
Silver sparks flashed in the air. The Black Blade collided with a sword made of ice. Blue cracks began to appear along its obsidian length, forcing Hadjar to jerk his hand back and hit the wall with his sword.
“Intruders,” growled a humanoid figure made of ice. Clad in heavy armor, it radiated an aura comparable to that of a Lord.
“Black Wind!”
A giant replica of the Black Blade whizzed through the air, unleashing a gust of wind so strong it knocked the creature down and made the pillars around it shake. Those unfortunate enough to have received the full brunt of his attack were usually destroyed by it, or at least severely injured.
A thin veil suddenly encased the creature.
“Intruders...”
The veil shone bright blue just as it collided with the ‘Black Wind’. To Hadjar’s surprise, there wasn’t so much as a scratch on the creature.
“Attack!”
Chapter 678
T he icy veil instantly covered the Black Blade’s replica, binding it in place. The creature squeezed its hand into a fist and turned Hadjar’s most powerful Technique into a shower of glittering crystal dust, releasing a wave of energy that struck him in the chest.
Dragon Heart: Land of The Enemy. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 8 Page 17