710 Thinking

There was only silence in the entire corridor. The young musician stood in front of the door with a plate of dinner in his hands. He hesitated and looked at the closed door of the cabin in front of him. This was a corridor that he had been walking through countless times for the past six years, as he had had to bring dinner for those officials that had no time to head to the canteen.

But this time around, he was exceptionally hesitant. It was as if he was about to face a terrifying beast. This hesitation did not necessarily come about due to a threatening appearance or strong words but was more of a gut feeling instead. It was the sense of danger and fear that herbivores possessed when faced with their predators.

He swallowed his saliva and bucked up his courage to knock on the door. There was only silence and there was no response. But the feeling of chill thickened. He hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door again.

This time around, he froze. On the other side of the door, he could sense a pair of eyes looking over in his direction. Those eyes seemed to be able to penetrate through metal, physical objects, and his body to see directly into every inch of his soul.

"Please come in," a deep voice said from behind the door. It was neither cold nor strict, and he felt a lot more relieved. But the moment he pushed open the door, he immediately felt a strange gust of chill. His hands that were holding on to the tray could not help but tremble.

He saw it. There were countless slim threads hanging in the air everywhere. Red, black, white, green… There were plenty of notes, photographs and pages from case files pinned onto the walls, occupying every inch of the room. Those thumbtacks were attached to the threads, and the latter crisscrossed the entire room so that it formed a gigantic web. There were case files and notes everywhere on the table, walls, floor and even on the bed. It was like the lair of a spider.

The white-haired man's back was facing him as he squatted amongst the messy piles of case notes. He was staring at the threads on top of him and seemed too deep in thought. He seemed to be searching for something amongst the threads.

"Mr. Rommel." The musician, who was in shock, lowered his head and did not dare to look at him. He only spoke softly, "Your dinner…"

"Just leave it there, thank you." Rommel pointed at a spot near the entrance. The musician felt relieved to finally be able to leave the tray behind before closing the door gently. He was only able to relax and breathe normally after he had turned the corner of the corridor.

The room was silent and Rommel was like a statue, as he remained motionless and continued to be deep in thought.

"How terrible." In the darkness, a voice sighed and spoke. A thin middle-aged man appeared out of nowhere and picked up the tray of dinner that had already gone cold. He grabbed the utensils and began to dig into the dinner unceremoniously, even as he continued to speak while chewing on his food. "He was kind enough to bring you dinner, yet you couldn't even be bothered to look at him. Besides, you have been on the Stronghold on Sea for so many days but all you have done is to lock yourself in the room and stare at the photos of the same man. Hey, you know something? In Asgard, if someone's room is filled with photos of men, then you will be deemed as a homosexual…"

"Are all the imperial guards of the Golden Palace as talkative as you?" Rommel countered without even turning his head. "If you wish to leave the room, please go ahead. Do whatever you want, Schwartz, just don't disturb me."

"That's not possible." Schwartz shrugged his shoulders. "After all, this is my duty."

In the Asgard army, when a musician was appointed as a commander, he would be given his own personal guard. During wartimes, the two of them would stay together at all times and must never be apart from each other by more than ten meters. Its main purpose was to prevent any assassinations or accidents from happening. Although this was unnecessary for a scepter like Rommel, the old musician still insisted on sending him an imperial guard from the Golden Palace before his departure.

These knights, who were specially selected from the Asgard army, had to go through long periods of training and even had to change their names and erase every single trace of information about themselves in order to become an imperial guard of the Golden Palace. In past centuries, they had been responsible for the safety of the Emperor or important officials and have earned the reputation of being the best guards in the entire world. At the same time, they were also excellent assassins. Other than protecting the people that they had been assigned to, they might sometimes have to carry out certain unpleasant tasks behind the scenes.

Loyal, hardworking and fearless. Despite so many excellent qualities, they could not compensate for the single major flaw, which was that this guard that had been assigned to Rommel was a chatterbox.

"It has been so long, what exactly are you doing?" Schwartz was playing with his curly black hair. He was finishing up his dinner in a squatting position and continued to ask, "Unrequited love?"

"I'm thinking." Rommel stirred the cup of cold coffee but his gaze remained unchanged. From the very beginning, he had been staring at those photos on the wall, regardless if they were clear or blurry. He stared at that white-haired young man and his black eyes.

"You are 'thinking' just like Ye Qingxuan." Schwartz shook his head. "Is that necessary? You are only studying an opponent, why must you force yourself to the extent of becoming homosexual?"

"When facing an opponent like Ye Qingxuan, you have to consider every single small detail." Rommel spoke calmly. "Can you imagine? He was able to advance from an apprentice to a scepter within a year and control catastrophes. He was on exile but eventually became the shadow emperor of a country. He was atheist but eventually became the archbishop of the church and Chief Inquisitor of the Court of Inquiry. He is a miracle, Schwartz, a miracle that deserves to be feared."

He stared at the photos and looked at Ye Qingxuan. "Look at this fellow's face. He's always smiling at all times. It's as if the pain and suffering of this world mean nothing to him. Despite his human-like appearance and his gentle and sophisticated behavior, you can just sense that he is a monster. He is not human. When you look at his eyes, you will feel that all of your efforts will be for naught. Compared to the miracle that he is, you are not worth mentioning at all. This doesn't make sense at all…"

Crack. The metal spoon broke in the cup of coffee.

Rommel finally looked away and turned his head silently to look at Schwartz. "I have been thinking, why would something like this exist in this world?"

"How would I now?" Schwartz shrugged his shoulders. "It's your job to think. Are you expecting a bodyguard to give you some ideas?"

Rommel laughed self-deprecatingly. He took another look at the photos on the wall before looking down.

"I think God would never allow something like this to exist in this world." He picked up the cup of cold coffee and gulped it down, including chewing on the broken pieces of the metal spoon. He muttered softly, "Schwartz, I'm going to kill him."

…

When the siren sounded, Rommel finally left his room and appeared on the bridge of the Stronghold on Sea. Compared to other warships, the bridge of the Stronghold was like the city hall of a particular city. There were several levels in total and the lowest level was often used by messengers. They would be rushing to every location on the Stronghold with the warrants and approvals from the general staff on the second level. The third level was the real center of command.

The elderly commander looked at Rommel and waved to him and explained the situation, "Mr. Rommel, we have entered the northern sea region. I'm afraid we will be making contact with Anglo's Royal Fleet very soon. The reason we have asked you here is that we hope that you will be heavily involved and can help us react in the shortest possible time. I'm afraid we will have to trouble you from now on."

"This is part of my duty." Rommel nodded and looked up at the map that was being projected in mid-air. He pondered for a while before frowning. "Did Anglo create this fog? No, it's not that simple. What's in this fog?"

"Cups of Virtues." The commander replied coolly, "They have gone against the international agreement and poisoned the entire northern seas. We have already initiated the filter enchantment. For the next few days, all of our naval crews will have to breathe through their protective suits."

Instead of feeling angry like the others, Rommel was confused. "Is that all?"

"Hmm?"

"No, nothing." Rommel shook his head but he could not help but feel that something was amiss.

Reports kept coming in. After pushing forward, this iron city on sea began to let out a roar as it split the ocean, like a giant taking huge but slow steps forward. The thick fog had also seemed to be cleared by the hurricane.

The poisonous fog began to tremble from the reverberation of the roar. Amidst the loud sounds caused by the friction between metals, tens of water gates at various locations of the Stronghold opened. The gigantic warships sailed out in all directions in a formation. The wheels had been warmed up and the main cannon had been adjusted. Everyone in the motor team was in position…

Every human seemed to represent red blood cells. They were sprinting everywhere in the Stronghold so that its 'heart' would start pumping and the entire Stronghold would be awakened. It was coming alive!

Rommel's head remained lowered. He was silent and did not seem to hear the sounds on the outside. He was deep in thought as he stared at the map on the wall. Thinking. Thinking. Just like how Ye Qingxuan would be thinking.

All of a sudden, it was as if a flash of lightning had struck him. He looked up very suddenly.

"Turn on every single probe!" He pointed at the commander and shouted at the top of his lungs. His hoarse voice had broken the silence on the bridge, and everyone looked back at him in shock. "Turn on all the probes and instruments of harmonious melody. Arrange for the revelation musicians to perform a large-scale symphony with Lord Klein!"

At the highest level of the bridge stood an old man at the front row. He turned back to look at the commander before looking back at Rommel.

"Although the revelation musicians of each division are already in position, Lord Rommel, is it too early to activate everyone now? I may be a scepter, but I don't think I can last for too long."

"Trust me, Mr. Klein." Rommel chewed on his fingernails and stared at the map. "He is here! He will definitely be here!"

Klein looked at the captain. Once the commander gave his nod of approval, Klein sat down at his position and closed his eyes.

The gigantic metal Stronghold suddenly let out a roar. Countless buildings rose and fall like the keys on a piano. Amidst the majestic melody of the pipe organ, the scepter appeared out of nowhere and hung on the ceiling of the Stronghold. The element had been revealed!

A pair of eyes opened within the figure of the scepter and looked straight ahead. A beam of light shot through the fog and seemed to turn every object transparent. It signified the left eye of Odin, the God of catastrophe, and was capable of revealing the truth of every object in the world.

With that beam of light, the surface of the sea behind the fog could be seen clearly, including the waves beneath the surface, the seabed that was a thousand meters deep and even the skeletons of fishes that had died in the corals. The light swept across in all directions and, instantly, the single eye had scanned one entire round of the Stronghold. There was nothing.

Everyone was relieved but began to give strange glances in Rommel's direction. Only Rommel did not seem to realize this. He continued to stare at the map and was subconsciously biting on his fingernails. His teeth had bitten off the dead skin on his index finger and fresh blood was flowing out of the broken skin. Very soon, the light reached hundreds of miles across the sea and locked on to the direction of the Royal Fleet.

"At least it was not entirely wasted." Klein tried to speak up for Rommel and laughed. "It's always good to stay alert."

Rommel kept quiet. He was disappointed. By scanning such a wide area, even Klein was not able to last for long. The moment the location of the Royal Fleet had been confirmed, the left eye of God retrieved its vision. Just before the movement dissipated, it scanned the Stronghold for one last round.

On the right side of the Stronghold, what was originally only fog began to tremble and reveal silhouette that left everyone dumbstruck. In an instant, Klein's scepter shone downwards. The disguise that was made of water vapor was dissected open by the invisible blade, revealing the floating warship behind.

No one knew when it had managed to escape the probe of the Stronghold and get so close! It was almost within an arm's length!

"What the hell is this!" The commander stood up from his chair. His face had turned green.

As the ear-shattering siren sounded, that pitch-black warship seemed to sense that it had been detected. It gradually adjusted its direction so that it was aiming straight at the core of the Stronghold. A blinding light was already shining from the main cannon.

It was the Mountain of Nomadism.