Chapter 59
"I'll ask you one more time, what's your name?" Lord Lortheran's sword was already at the boy's neck.
Veris failed to kill this man earlier, which is definitely suspicious, and he's certain he doesn't have any sons. This man is highly suspicious.
“My name is Martin,” Lortheran said, raising his hand.
Veris murmured from the side, "Isn't that your last name?"
Lortheran, whose last name was Martin, was quite strange. Ever since he discovered that no one had the last name Martin, he never told anyone his last name again.
"You're mocking me!" Lord Martin roared in anger.
Lortheran shrugged: "You get upset when I tell you, you're so hard to please."
During this period, I hated being called "Martin" the most. I don't remember anything else about Lortheran, but I remember my own experiences clearly.
Veris smirked slightly, but quickly dropped the smile—before Lord Martin looked over.
"Let's take them back first." It's not a good idea for the team to stay here any longer, Veris made the final decision.
The boy who called himself Martin was clearly doing it on purpose, and he even had his own magical aura, which was very strange. Veris frowned in thought, while he had already stepped onto the spatial teleportation array and returned.
As soon as they returned to the city, their subordinates reported that a lot of strange people had suddenly appeared near the city. They were dressed very cleanly and did not look like refugees at all. However, when they saw the patrol team, they turned around and ran away as if they had seen some kind of flood or ferocious beast.
However, some people came forward to ask them about things.
The patrol team, of course, arrested and imprisoned them all.
Veris didn't rush to see the uninvited guests. He put his hands behind his back, lowered his eyes, and thought for a moment before saying, "Let's wait for Lortheran to come."
If that's the case, then the boy's origins might be explained... although it's still unclear why the boy has magical traces on him, and why he looks exactly like Lortheran.
It wouldn't be entirely accurate to say they'd never seen him before, since the boy still had Lortheran's face from when he was young.
Once Martin brought Lortheran into the city, he took the boy to find Veris. He couldn't understand how a son who was less than ten years younger than him could suddenly appear!
Could it be his younger brother, born to his father who died young? That's quite possible!
That explains it; they all share the surname Martin, and this guy said his name was Martin.
Lortheran, however, immediately saw through what his former self was thinking and grabbed his belt: "I really am your son, Lortheran!"
Shouting out one's own name without any shame.
Lord Martin jumped up as if he had stepped on a ninth-tier magical beast, throwing the boy he was carrying away: "Shut up!"
They stood in front of a bungalow. The city was full of potholes and the buildings were really not very good. Lortheran remembered that this city would later become the Fourth District, which was very close to his capital.
Standing once again on the land of three hundred years ago, and recalling the extreme prosperity of the capital city of Lortheran in the future, he suddenly became happy. He no longer cared about how Lord Martin was collapsing and cursing. With a smile on his face, he looked at the cloaked youth standing at the door of the bungalow.
Veris, who had just killed a god less than half a month ago, returned to the city of Lortheran and decided to help Lortheran unify the continent of Icarus, while simultaneously promoting a new religion called the Orlando Church.
The young man looked lifeless. Looking at him, Lortheran sighed inwardly. Those past years became clearer after revisiting the place, and they also made his feelings more complicated.
He suspected that during this period, Veris could have easily wiped out the entire continent and dragged all races down with him.
"What era are you from?" Veris also looked up, staring intently at this younger version of Lortheran, his thoughts somewhat hazy, as if he had returned to the time when they first met... when Sylvain was still by his side.
His expression darkened further when he thought of a certain person.
Lord Martin also came to his senses, turned to look at Lortheran, and asked suspiciously, "Are you really not my brother?"
Lortheran stopped teasing his former self. Once or twice was one thing, but if he got really angry, Lord Martin would really draw his sword and chop him into mincemeat.
He smiled, but this time with a more serious expression, the difference being that he straightened his posture: "A specific time? That would be three hundred years from now."
Veris's face remained expressionless. The young man, Lortheran, meant that he had lived for another three hundred years... Three hundred years, such a long time, just thinking about it made one feel hopeless.
Then Lortheran said solemnly, "I've come here only to tell Veris one thing."
Lord Martin looked at his friend, whose face remained expressionless. He simply nodded, signaling the boy to continue.
Lortheran raised his palm, revealing the crimson magic circle pattern in the air. This time, Veris's expression changed drastically. He took several steps forward, grabbed Lortheran's wrist tightly, his pupils reflecting the magic circle, and his voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth—
"Who? Who drew this?"
Lortheran's hand was held tightly, but he wasn't angry. Instead, he said seriously, "It's you, and it's not just you."
Later, Veris's magic circles were all gold, making them easy to distinguish, but the magic circle that was inscribed on Lortheran's palm that day was blood red, and it was easy to guess that it was Sylvain's work.
After all, besides Veris, the only other person with this ability is Sylvan. Even though Sylvan's magic circle patterns used to be green, he has now changed his hair color. Nothing is impossible.
Veris's face revealed a terrifying murderous intent as he stared at the boy. Anyone else standing here would probably be scared half to death, but Lortheran only flinched for a moment before straightening his neck again.
By sending him here, Veris must have placed a curse on him to ensure he wouldn't die.
"He's still alive?" Veris asked a seemingly random question.
Lortheran nodded quickly, fearing that if he hesitated even a fraction of a second, Veris would strike him through the heart again. He wouldn't die, but the way he died would be excruciating!
The young man's face was still pale, but he released Lortheran's hand and closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, his face was calm again, and he said, "The patrol team arrested a group of people like you. Are they enemies or friends?"
Lortheran: "There are enemies and friends, some are irrelevant."
Why did you come here?
Lortheran continued, “Please, kill a god once more.”
Upon hearing this, Lord Martin, who had been looking bewildered, changed his expression and looked at Lortheran warily. This man actually knew about Veris's killing of the god!
Veris raised his hand and stared intently at the future Lortheran before him. Although he didn't know why Lortheran had lived for so long, he was certain that the magic circle was not mistaken... it was the aura of a demon.
The Dharma seal is also a sign that comes from hell.
“I understand.” A murderous glint flashed in his eyes. “They still have a chance to be resurrected. I will never let them go.”
Seeing Veris's anger level about to exceed the threshold, Lortheran touched his nose. Sure enough, if he showed Veris evidence that Sylvain still existed at this stage, Veris would cheer up and help him.
Killing a god? Easy peasy.
Veris instructed Lord Martin to take Lortheran to be settled.
Then I'll go check on the people who were arrested by the patrol team.
Although the city was somewhat dilapidated, it was still a major city at this time. Lord Martin had already prepared for a long-term battle with the city, but he never expected that when Veris returned, he would tear through space and blast the city to smithereens. The more proud the city lord had been before, the more silent he became when he was blasted into dust.
Of course, they didn't even have a chance to speak.
Yellow sand swirled through the streets. Two people who looked almost identical walked along the road, surrounded by resting soldiers. After marching for many days, these men sat by the roadside, leaning against each other, and fell asleep.
With their great mage here, the soldiers still trusted Veris.
Lord Martin stroked his chin: "Are you really me from the future?"
Lortheran surveyed the streets, both strange and somewhat familiar, as distant memories stirred within him, but because they were so long ago, he couldn't recall much.
At this moment, he stopped pretending to be mischievous and, upon hearing this, simply hummed in agreement, his expression calm: "I am you."
“Then you must be older than me,” Martin said.
He said something meaningless, then continued, "You said those people have both enemies and friends, what do you want to do?"
A slow smile appeared on Lortheran's face: "Of course, kill him."
The two stopped in their tracks. Ahead lay the captured trial participants, surrounded by a fence by the patrol team. They glared at the two like animals, their eyes filled with rage.
Some were surveying their surroundings and became wary when they saw two similar-looking people approaching.
The patrol captain carried the magic scroll inscribed by Veris, opened it, and trapped these people without harming them; naturally, the marks on the newborns were not triggered.
Some of them recognized Lortheran as a trial participant and shouted, "Why don't you let them go? Didn't the Dean say we should help each other?"
Lortheran smiled, his arrogance evident in his eyes. Martin, standing beside him, glanced at him, shrank back, and felt a sense of dread about his future self.
"Helping each other? Who said I'm on the same path as you?" Lortheran's nonchalant voice rang out.
Martin whispered, "Aren't you one?"
Lortheran felt that he was not good at judging situations at this time. He pretended not to hear, took a step forward, and looked at the group of people through the fence. His eyes swept around and soon saw the people inside the fence who were furthest away from him.
It was Allen and Murphy from the Brave Squad. The two had a very low profile among the captured trial participants. Murphy only needed to lower his head and cover his special eyes to blend into the crowd.
The other two are not here, and the elven saint is also not here.
Lortheran's eyes flickered, and he smiled: "I'm not some newbie. If I kill you all, there will be far fewer people vying for the ruins. Wouldn't that greatly increase my chances?"
Those people were startled at first, then their expressions turned angry and fearful. Most of them were freshmen, otherwise they wouldn't have gone up to the patrol team as soon as they saw them, and as a result, they were all arrested.
Allen and Murphy, who were standing in the corner, exchanged a glance.
They had a conflict with that blond-haired boy before, but the boy was taken away by someone whose voice sounded a lot like Veris's. Moreover, he was standing among the deans of the Royal Capital Academy before the secret realm was opened, so he must have a connection with the Royal Capital Academy.
But now they say they're not new students and they want to kill them.
Was there an undercover agent infiltrated by the Royal Capital Academy, or was he saying this on purpose?
Then they heard another man in thick armor speak, “Kill him now? No, the burial pits outside the city aren’t finished yet. If the corpses piled up here, there will be a plague. I’ll chop you into mincemeat first!”
The boy shrugged: "Fine, his magic circle is here, and these people can't escape anyway, so it's the same whether they die sooner or later."
The two men spoke of deciding their lives so casually that the angry freshmen's faces gradually turned pale. They truly felt that the two men didn't care about killing, whether it was killing one person or a group of people.
The blood-red sky overhead looked ominous, and sandstorms swept through the air. Fortunately, the magic circle blocked the sandstorms. The open-air prison enclosed by the fence was not small, and the freshmen huddled together, dividing themselves into small areas.
Allen and Murphy sat in a corner, conserving their energy and discussing how to escape.
They didn't approach the patrol team immediately, but this was the only city nearby. The trial participants disappeared into the wilderness and forests as soon as they landed. Allen thought there must be something wrong with the city, but Murphy thought they only needed to survive for a month.
None of them were of noble birth; they were just surviving in the wild.
However, Arnold squatted down, picked up some mud and sand from the ground, rubbed it, and said with a serious expression: "It's hard for any food to grow in this land, and there probably aren't any wild animals in the wilderness and forests."
If you want to survive, you have to go to that city.
After discussing it, Allen and Murphy took the initiative to go, while Arnold and Astor observed from the vicinity of the city. The Holy Son said that the drop point was near the founding king, Lortheran, so that king must be in the city.
Unfortunately, none of the four of them had studied history.
All that is known is that the founding king's name was Lortheran, but as for his personality, what he liked and disliked, and who was around him, nothing is known.
At most, I only know that Lortheran's profession is warrior, and he was the first hero.
Now, Allen and Murphy were discussing whether the armored man was Lortheran. The blood-red sky distorted their faces, and the man, wearing heavy armor and standing upright, was not clearly visible to them from their corner; they only heard his voice.
Let's wait for Arnold and Astor to come and rescue them. Murphy has seen this magic circle; as long as we break the weak point in the spell, we can break the magic circle.
However, if the wrong incantation is used, it will definitely alert the person who cast the magic circle.
He actually felt that the magic circle looked somewhat familiar, but only slightly. After all, the profession of magician has a long history, and many magic circles have been passed down from ancient times. He probably felt that the magic circle looked familiar because it had similarities with magic circles in the modern world.
After a considerable amount of time, the sky finally darkened, and the other freshmen couldn't hold on any longer and fell asleep, while Allen and Murphy remained awake.
A rustling sound came from behind him, and Allen stood up and turned to look behind him.
Arnold crouched furtively on the ground and moved forward cautiously.
Murphy noticed Arnold and frowned as he set up a soundproofing array. Arnold leaned close to the edge of the fence and whispered urgently, "A strange guy has appeared among the new students. He says he'll open the Sea Mystic Realm at dawn, and the opening location is inside the city."
"What's going on?" Allen frowned as well.
The blond boy kept shaking his head: "I don't know either. Astor and I went into the woods and overheard it."
Is eavesdropping reliable?
We'll find out tomorrow.
Arnold continued, "Furthermore, the new lord of this city has issued a kill order, saying that anyone seen with clean clothes and a magic circle in their palm should be killed without exception."
Upon hearing this, both Allen and Murphy's expressions changed.
Allen recounted the two people they had met that day. Arnold tilted his head and thought for a moment, then shook his head and said, "Hey, if what that person said is true, the people in the city will definitely notice when the secret realm opens at dawn. You should take this opportunity to leave quickly."
He felt unsafe in the city. Perhaps it was because he had never witnessed such a scene before, or perhaps it was his innate intuition, but he sensed that there was always a gaze upon him, wanting him dead.
Moreover, I want them all to die.
Arnold still trusts his intuition.
Another reason is that after entering the secret realm, the remnant soul in his mind became much more active and said a lot of things. Arnold just gave perfunctory replies, and it was impossible for him to do as the remnant soul said.
Perhaps the remnant soul also saw through his thoughts, cursed once, and then fell silent.
But Arnold knew that the remnant soul had left.
Sometimes he really felt that it would be better for him to die, taking this strange, remnant soul with him. After all, he should have died deep in the Amberley Mountains long ago, instead of having his current predicament.
After informing his companions, Arnold hurriedly left again. The city walls were high but dilapidated, so he found a dog hole to crawl through and crawled out. Astor was waiting for him outside the dog hole.
Arnold said that neither Allen nor Murphy were injured, but the city lord planned to kill all of them, the trial participants.
"What should we do then? Let's rescue Murphy and Allen and leave. If they want to kill us here, there are always places where they won't." Astor's face showed worry.
The blond boy frowned, an expression rarely seen on his face. Arnold was about to say something when his expression suddenly changed. He forcefully pushed Aster away, and even fell to the side himself.
Astor didn't know what had happened, but he still took advantage of Arnold's force and fell to the side. He was thick-skinned and tough, so he was a good cushion for Arnold.
He soon found out what had happened.
Where they had just stood, a large, scorched hole appeared, and a hoarse voice rang out: "A seventh-tier mage?... Ah, not quite there yet, a born warrior..."
The dark figure stood in mid-air, the fierce wind blowing his cloak but completely obscuring his face. He raised his pale fingertip and pointed to where Arnold was.
"No matter who you are, go to hell."
A vast amount of magical elements condensed, a burst of blood-red light erupted, and a huge magic circle appeared in front of the pale fingertip.
Astor's eyes widened in horror, while Arnold gritted his teeth, pulled out his staff, which had also been engraved with a magic circle by Copperfield, allowing it to be enlarged or shrunk for easy carrying.
There was no way to escape; he sensed a terrifying aura of destruction within the magic circle that had grown from small to large.
However, no matter how gifted Arnold was, he was no different from a newborn chick in front of this person.
A crimson beam of light shot out, and Arnold lowered his eyes, instead of retaliating, he activated all the magical elements in his body, stacking all the defensive formations on his companion.
It doesn't matter that he's dead; he can take the malevolent remnant soul in his mind with him when he dies.
But Astor is innocent. Astor is younger than him, kind and honest, and shouldn't have died here.
“Run, Astor!” he shouted, turning his head toward Astor.
Warriors excel at close combat, but even a natural-born warrior, no matter how high he jumps, can't reach the hem of that cloaked mage's robes.
—What should we do? Just abandon Arnold like this?
Aster was completely disoriented and could only follow Arnold's shouts, scrambling and crawling towards the boundless wilderness behind him.
As the blood-red pillar of light grew larger and larger, its blinding light filling his vision, Arnold had no choice but to close his eyes.
Instead of experiencing the pain of his body being torn apart, he heard a crisp sound, like something made of glass being struck, followed by the sound of cracks widening.
The blond boy opened his eyes blankly.
A seven-colored light shone brightly from his chest, forming a magic circle as wide as his arm, which firmly resisted the blood-red pillar of light.
Similarly, the sound of cracks became increasingly clear.
A night breeze swirled around him, and the young man under the cloak slightly raised his head, his heterochromatic eyes silently watching the scene unfold.
The standoff lasted only a few seconds. With a wave of his hand, the blood-red pillar of light and the magic circle turned into specks of light and scattered. He remained standing in the void, looking down at the boy on the ground who looked like he had survived a disaster.
This person has objects on him that are inscribed with "rules".
What blocked his attack was not the object itself, but rather the object's rules issuing a warning when threatened, making it appear as if the object was protecting the boy.
The one who blocked his attack was none other than his future self.
Veris's gaze was indifferent; he had clearly seen the "rules" emerge just now.
[Open all the locks in the world.]
What a strange rule! The future me actually wrote the "rules" on a key. Was it because I was always forgetful and couldn't find my keys, so I got angry and made a key that could open all locks?
Veris was somewhat puzzled.
However, one thing is certain: the future self will be so powerful that even the present self cannot reach such a level. Inscribing "rules" is something that even those arrogant gods would think twice before doing. Yet the future self has so easily inscribed... such a convenient "rule" for life.
He stood quietly, contemplating the extent of his future strength.
If there were a realm without an upper limit, how could he possibly reach that realm now? He already possesses two divine cores and has absorbed the divine power of seven gods. He thought he had reached the pinnacle of power, but he never expected that he would be even stronger hundreds of years later.
Arnold, who was slumped on the muddy ground, realized that he was drenched in sweat.
He had even forgotten that the Royal Capital Academy would protect the safety of new students and automatically teleport them back to the secret realm if a new life was detected as nearing its end.
That's right! Just now... He fumbled around in his sealed chest pocket and immediately remembered something he had brought with him: the very powerful key that Veris had given him!
His wrists trembled, and his breath was mixed with sand. In the Kingdom of Lortheran three hundred years later, finding a similar climate would be extremely difficult, but in this era, such harsh environments were everywhere.
Arnold opened his mouth, and a wave of nausea surged up. The fear of surviving the ordeal was gripping his soul, and his flesh screamed because of the terrifying beam of light that had invaded his entire field of vision.
"Arnold, Arnold, are you alright—" Astor, who had run some distance away, turned around and ran back.
He only mustered the courage to turn back when he saw that the black shadow was no longer in the sky.
The blond boy was deathly pale, gripping Aster so tightly that his fingernails dug into the boy's wrist.
“We are too weak, Astor,” he said in a hoarse voice.
"Forget about fighting for the ruins, we'd have a problem surviving here for three days."
Veris's key was already making a cracking sound, and it probably wouldn't be able to protect him a second time. Arnold's head was throbbing, and he felt tears streaming down his face, which was also stinging from the wind and sand.
He thought that his childhood life as a shepherd boy in the village at the foot of the Amberley Mountains was already very difficult.
But when he actually returned to that era three hundred years ago, he realized that the continent of Icarus three hundred years later was simply a place that existed only in a dream.
The environment here is harsh, yet the people are so powerful; those patrolling guards are probably all high-ranking warriors.
These people from three hundred years in the future lived peacefully. The greatest hardship they had ever encountered was probably the inexplicable pursuit along the way, but even those pursuits had never made Arnold so terrified.
The chase they endured led to significant growth for all of them.
Compared to this era, it's like playing house!
While they were in the square, they heard what those trial participants did after they obtained the artifact that could reverse time.
It's nothing more than going back to before the kingdom was established, saying that Lortheran was able to unify the continent because he seized the initiative, and that those of them who know that history could have done even better.
It's not impossible that the Kingdom of Lortheran might adopt their surname!
—So stupid it's beyond redemption.
Arnold was helped to his feet by Astor. He glanced back at the spot where the shadowy figure had been. It was empty, but the gaze he had felt earlier was still faintly on him. He knew their crisis was not over yet.
Perhaps they should flee further away, away from this city.
But Alan and Murphy were still inside, so Arnold gritted his teeth and stood guard next to the dog hole.
His mind remained highly tense, but his physical exhaustion was equally undeniable. Although Arnold didn't want to sleep, he couldn't help but drift off to sleep.
The same goes for Astor.
They were awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of rapid hoofbeats.
Two disheveled men lay prone beneath the city wall, watching a troop of soldiers head out of the city. The clanging of armor filled their ears. The soldiers remained silent, and judging from their direction, they seemed to be heading towards the mountains and forests.
Arnold didn't know when dawn broke, but he dared not fall asleep again.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but he suspected that the days and nights of this era were exceptionally long. During the day, he thought the blood-red sky was because of the sunset, but judging from the time, this was how it was during the day, as if blood had been spilled all over the sky.
The soldiers returned.
Arnold had excellent eyesight, and at that moment, his eyes widened in horror.
Silent soldiers, dust billowing high, ropes tied to horses, human figures dragging behind their mounts in the dim world.
The smell of blood mixed with the scent of sand drifted over faintly.
This is the old era.
Those humanoid figures were the trial participants who had been standing in the square not long ago.
Arnold finally understood what the phrase "kill without mercy" meant.
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Author's note: See you tomorrow! [hugs]
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