Upon hearing this, Priss slowly shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the grotesque and twisted cannon barrel with an almost tangible intensity, his voice carrying the unwavering certainty of a judge:
"No. There isn't a trace of Shadow Abyss filth in it. What it exudes is pure, violent, forcibly compressed and bound magical power. Although dangerous and deadly, its source is not the twisted power of Shadow Abyss."
More like... a failed attempt by the Orks to crudely imitate some ancient creation.
Linde nodded; this was entirely consistent with what he had learned by deconstructing the halo.
"That's good."
His tone softened.
"Let Goodman and the others do whatever they want, as long as they don't blow themselves and half of Ironrock Castle to smithereens. Their task is to understand it, not to use it immediately."
Pres nodded slightly, the light of the Holy Emblem flowing steadily, like an invisible dam, restraining the restless energy emanating from the Crystal Skeleton Cannon.
The two left the oppressive research warehouse, walked through the bustling castle corridors, and finally arrived at a secluded and deserted tower terrace.
A biting north wind swept by, ruffling their cloaks.
Linde's expression turned solemn, the air of a battlefield commander fading away, replaced by a deeper, more unquestionable authority.
He turned around and looked directly into Pris's eyes, which were weathered yet still clear and resolute.
"Judge Priest."
Linde's voice was deep and clear, carrying the unique resonance of the Light Vein power.
"In the name of the Oracle of Light."
Priest's body tensed instantly, his right hand instinctively placed on his chest in a standard Crusader salute, his head bowed slightly to signify absolute obedience and listening. At this moment, he was not only facing Viscount Lind, but also the embodiment of the Will of Light walking among mortals.
"From this day forward," Lind's command was etched into the air like a brand, "you will accompany me, leading your most elite Holy Punishment Knights, to this place."
A meticulously drawn parchment map was handed to Priss. On the map, a bright red mark stood out starkly on the edge of a desolate land called "Rust Rift" in the northeastern part of the Sass Empire.
Prince carefully took the map, his fingertips able to feel the roughness of the parchment's edges.
He unfolded the map, his gaze sweeping across it with the sharpness of a hawk. The marker was located near the entrance to a winding ravine, a treacherous terrain.
However, what made this experienced judge even more worried was the path leading to the rift valley.
"My Lord Oracle,"
Priss's voice was grave as his fingertips traced across the map.
"Rusty Rift Valley... This place is located on the northeastern border of the Sass Empire, a remote and sparsely populated area, making it possible that Shadow Abyss's henchmen are hiding here. But the problem is..."
His finger pointed to several small dots marked with simple fortification symbols in front of the rift valley entrance.
"To reach the entrance to the rift valley, we must pass through this area. The Sas people have built three small stone fortresses here, taking advantage of the terrain, to guard the only passage to the rift valley."
They are not large in scale, but they are mutually supportive, occupying high ground and are easy to defend and difficult to attack. A direct assault would inevitably alert the target inside the rift valley, and might even attract the encirclement and suppression of the nearby Sass garrison. A surprise attack... is probably unlikely.
Priest's worries were palpable.
Although the Holy Knights are powerful, their numbers are limited, and attacking fortified strongholds is not their forte.
Once entangled in a prolonged battle and bogged down by the fortresses, the cultists within the rift valley would either flee at the mere mention of their name or prepare for battle, rendering any surprise attack meaningless.
Just as Pris was considering whether to suggest taking a more treacherous route that might avoid the fortress, Lind spoke up. His tone was calm and even, as if he were discussing crushing a few pebbles in the way:
"A fortress? Simple."
Linde's gaze swept over the three obstructive markers on the map, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.
“Three earthen fortresses are nothing. I’ll reduce them to dust within half a day, clearing the way for you and me. All you need to do is prepare your Holy Punishment Knights and follow me as we push through.”
Half a day? A flat push?
Prince was shocked! He looked up sharply at Lind. The young man before him remained calm, but his deep eyes held an absolute confidence that could shake mountains and rivers.
This is by no means arrogance! Priest knows Lind too well. If he says he can do it, he must have some trump card that ordinary people can't even imagine!
Although it is unknown what means Linde has to destroy three interdependent fortresses so swiftly, his identity as the Oracle of the Light Veins is the greatest guarantee!
All of Pres' doubts vanished instantly, replaced by a firm commitment to the will of the oracle and a surging fighting spirit to carry out the divine purification.
He took a deep breath, carefully folded the map, and placed it close to his body. His right hand pounded heavily against his breastplate again, uttering a resounding vow:
"We obey the divine decree! The Holy Knights are ready to heed your command, Your Oracle! May the light guide our swords and cleanse all filth!"
Linde nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant blood-red mark on the map, a chilling killing intent gathering in his eyes.
"Very good. Summon the knights and prepare to depart immediately. Destination—Rusty Rift!"
…………
Three days later, the outer edge of the rusted rift valley.
On the desolate, wind-eroded landscape, three small fortresses built of gray-brown rocks stand like menacing tumors, guarding the vital passage to the rift valley.
They are built against the mountain, occupying high ground; their thick stone walls, though not tall, are exceptionally sturdy.
Sparse patrolling sentries could be seen on the top of the wall, wearing the standard leather armor of the Sass Empire's border army, their eyes scanning the barren valley below with vigilance.
The fortresses are not far apart and can clearly support each other. Any attack on one of them will immediately attract fire support and troop reinforcements from the other two.
At that moment, on the tower of the fortress at the very front, a sentry yawned listlessly.
Apart from the occasional sand lizard and vulture, you might not see a single person in this area for months at a time.
The so-called vigilance is more like a tedious routine.
However, just as he was halfway through his yawn, with his mouth wide open, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something moving on the distant horizon out of the corner of his eye.
He rubbed his eyes and looked over in confusion.
Under the blinding midday sun, a team was advancing silently and resolutely towards the fortress complex at an astonishing speed!
The group wasn't large, only about a hundred people. But their method of movement was extremely strange!
There was no billowing smoke or the neighing of warhorses.
The leader rode an exceptionally magnificent warhorse that shone brightly (it was Lind).
Behind him stood dozens of knights clad in heavy silver-white plate armor, carrying greatswords, and exuding a cold and murderous aura.
"Enemy... Enemy attack!!!"
The sentry on the tower finally snapped out of his shock and let out a shrill, piercing scream!
The sharp, piercing siren instantly shattered the silence of the wasteland!
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