Pillar of Yita

Traveler’s Rest, underground.

Two Dragonmen sprang out from hidden corners, one to the left and one to the right, but the tall man stood still behind the dust, pressed their heads with a hand, and before they had a chance to react, slammed them forcibly together.

He released his grip, and the bodies of the Dragonmen turned into black fog, sinking into the swirling dust below.

Mazak walked forward without a glance back, as the dust parted on both sides of his sturdy legs, receding behind him. Shadows wrapped around the stiflingly narrow space, where tall, cold stone statues with varying appearances but all armored and with swords resting on the ground stood within the niches along the corridor.

Their hollow gazes fixed ahead, seemingly from a time before they were erected.

At the end of the corridor was a stone platform with a carved stone sword lying flat upon it, a blade about four foot long and a palm wide, with gems on the pommel, guard, and counterweight hammer exquisitely carved to the smallest detail.

Mazak stopped by the stone platform. Shayek, hunched and respectful, stepped out from one side to the platform, bent down and with a ’puff’ blew the dust from its surface. He gently grasped the hilt and turned back to look at Mazak.

The man, towering like a giant spire, silently nodded.

Only then did the other man press a gemstone on the hilt of the stone sword. It twisted inward, and a crack appeared on the stone wall in front with a creaking sound, revealing a shallow niche inside, where a sharp sword leaned.

A dazzling light fell upon Mazak’s face.

He bypassed the stone platform, took the sword, the little copper ring on the hair tie at the back of his head jingling gently.

The blade, forged of Fairy Silver, seemed to naturally emit a glowing light in the darkness, resembling a thin feather, with a frosty glint. Its shape was almost identical to the decorative stone sword outside the niche, but with an elegant Variant script inscribed in Niflheim Text on the spine:

’To slumber with the dragon, to hide with the stars; to rise with the moon, to glow with fire—Fairy Kin, Galapea.’

He held the sharp sword and turned around.

The black fog, as if struck by fear, spread and retreated.

...

From afar, the traveler’s camp was completely engulfed within the black clouds, which slowly rotated like a vast vortex. The inn sat in the center of this maelstrom, an isolated island.

’Big Sister’ stood atop a knoll, spitting out a grass root disdainfully onto the ground before trampling it underfoot.

A fellow whom Fang Hong had met during the day spoke beside her with a worried frown, ”Big Sister, I think maybe we should let this one go. I heard that the Silver Forest Spear and the Tabopolis Knights Order are here tonight, and looking at how things are now, this mess doesn’t bode well for us.”

”What’s there to see, what’s there to see, you see jack shit,” Big Sister turned around and poked his forehead with her sharp finger, poking him so hard that he staggered. In a foul mood, she said, ”Did I die for nothing? Talking about it makes me mad. Today, you lot ran away so fast; when did you learn to run like that? I’ve been taking care of you guys for nothing.”

He covered his head, somewhat aggrieved, ”But wasn’t that your own instruction, Big Sister? You said that if you got taken out, we should bolt early, because staying would just mean pointlessly handing our heads over.”

”You all take it seriously when I just say things offhand? If I tell you to go die, why don’t you go die?”

The trio huddled together like quivering quails, not daring to utter another word.

After venting, she seemed to calm down a bit. She then glanced at another person beside her—a summoner who worked as an assassin, dressed in a shirt, a waistcoat, topped with a bowler hat fitted with Wind Goggles with green lenses. A mask completely covered his nose and mouth, revealing only a pair of slender eyes framed with crow’s feet.

”Besides, what are the Silver Forest Spear and the Tabopolis Knights compared to us ’Dragonfire’? We don’t fear them, right, Twenty?” she asked then.

The Assassin Summoner, with a Magic Guided Reactor from the Emerald Bird βRE model on his back, was bent low, meticulously whittling a stick with a dagger into odd shapes. Only after hearing Big Sister’s words did he casually nod.

The dagger in his hand was enormous, with multidirectional stabilizing gears on the guard and a Bichrysolite set into the blade, proving it was a piece of War Gear—an Isa Agility Dagger.

Not many would use War Gear for wood carving, and especially not a man evidently devoid of artistic talent, carving creations that were somewhat hard on the eyes. However, it was at this moment he set down his work suddenly, raised his head, and in a deep voice, said, ”Someone’s coming.”

Everyone was taken aback—

Then, from a distance, came a series of crashing noises, like that of wooden structures collapsing, prompting everyone to look up to see the rooftops on the eastern side of Traveler’s Rest caving in sequentially, collapsing and disintegrating amidst billowing dust and debris.

Big Sister’s mouth hung open, staring at the scene: ”What on earth is that, something Silver Forest Spear and the Tabopolis Knights stirred up? They really think Mazak doesn’t kill people?”

”Big Sister, look, someone’s escaping from beneath the dust! They’re heading our way, should we go ’help’ them?” someone with sharp eyes suddenly exclaimed.

Big Sister hesitated, then was about to nod. She obviously had no qualms about ’helping others,’ a skill she had honed over time. As for something like moral pressure—what was that?