Chapter 516 515. Return To Sandwall



The journey from the West to the East was much easier this time than ever before. With the newfound control over the four kingdoms, Sylvester effortlessly rode the horses northward, heading toward the Norland Kingdom.

He had spent a month in the Marashia region, overseeing various oath-takings and treaty signings. He tried his utmost to establish an acceptable economic order that could benefit all four Kingdoms.

Fortunately, it didn't take much time to restore the lives of the people back to normal. Since Sylvester's master plan prevented large-scale war, there was minimal loss of life and labor. This ensured that the crops were harvested on time and the fields were sown again. He also gave ways to increase crop yields, such as creating manure and implementing other irrigation methods.

After all, famines were one of the primary causes of economic and social devastation in the world, especially in such a primitive era. Therefore, ensuring food security became the foremost priority for a flourishing and resilient economy.

However, one unexpected development for Sylvester was the Dwarves choosing to accompany him and fight against the Holy Land. They held no grudges against the faith and were devout followers of Solis. They simply wished to follow Sylvester and serve under his leadership, as they believed he was a man blessed by the heavens.

As Sylvester couldn't promise them a safe refuge in the West, he ultimately decided to lead them and settle them near the Holy Land instead. Of course, winning the war was the initial prerequisite.

Though he had to admit, the Dwarves were exceptional builders. Following Sylvester's designs that incorporated the spring suspension, they swiftly crafted splendid new carriages for themselves. Within a week, they produced nearly eighty carriages, sufficient to transport their population of just over a thousand.

"I won't deploy them in battle," Sylvester announced his decision to the others. "They have already endured enough, and as the first Dwarven people to embrace Solis, I want them to be treated well so they can one day spread the faith among other dwarves on the mainland."

Accompanying Sylvester were Aurora, Soulbreaker, and Dagorith, all of whom were Grand Wizards. Following behind them were Hozin and Kimino, both formidable in their own right. As for Zylena, she was unaccustomed to horses and traveled in a carriage.

"But you will make use of their expertise in smithing, won't you?" inquired Aurora. "Otherwise, it would be a missed opportunity."

"I have already ordered them to build Solarium cannons, so they will help in the production aspect. But I've been preparing for this moment for years. Gracia and the Highland Kingdom await us with their army prepared. As for Riveria, I always expected it to betray me, so I have something planned for it. Our plan is to overwhelm the enemy with such force that they can do nothing but perish.

"As of now, I believe we have Guardian Bloodrain, Soulbreaker, you, and Geralt alongside me. But at the same time, I have King and Queen Highland, Lady Bethany Normani, Elder Chief Koruk, Lord Einarr, and Dagorith with me. That makes us eleven Grand Wizards, against First Guardian Niel's four, including him." Sylvester calculated the odds meticulously.

"Then why are you still concerned?" Aurora asked.

"Because I feel that things are more complex than they appear. Pope's vanishing, sudden takeover by Niel, and… Saint Scepter remaining idle in the Holy Land. I'm afraid a greater conspiracy is at play, and my suspicion falls on Saint Scepter. The man possesses strange magic that causes one to forget him unless directly in sight or forced to remember." Sylvester said, suddenly reminding Aurora and Soulbreaker about the man as they had also forgotten him.

Aurora was astounded. "WHAT! I…I just remembered him all of a sudden…how?"

Sylvester pulled his sleeves over his wrist and showed a tattoo of the words 'Saint Scepter.' "I only recall him because of this. I may forget him, but I can make it a habit to look at this every few hours."

"How is he doing this?" She questioned. 

Regrettably, Sylvester had no idea about that. "Perhaps, it's something akin to my blessing of light. But who does he serve, that's the larger question."

Soulbreaker interjected at that moment. "Lord Bard, then does this mean he serves another deity?"

'I don't kno…' Sylvester didn't dare voice his thoughts. 'First Pope did say there is some presence that tries to suppress him. Who are they? Gods?'

"We will only find out when we confront him. But, I'm inclined to believe he is also a Supreme Wizard." Sylvester said, painting a terrifying situation.

Especially for Sylvester, it was far more terrifying as he had witnessed the Anti-Light Chief effortlessly slaying the Grand Wizards. His Grand Wizard level two strength, even with Elder Magic, would never stand against a Supreme Wizard for long.

After his suggestion, none of them spoke further. It was crucial to mentally prepare themselves for the battle, which was destined to only become more challenging the further they advanced.

…

Their long entourage of carriages and horses soon turned right and crossed the boundary wall separating the East and the West. They arrived at the high ridge over which the Sandwall County sat.

But, as they expected, the boundary wall was destroyed, and the entrance to Sandwall County was wide open with no guards standing there. So they entered the long inclined tunnels and moved up, as the entire East of Sol sat on a higher leveled ground than the West.

"Look at all this," Aurora exclaimed emotionally. "After word of your demise reached the Holy Land, the Pope himself came here and razed everything to the ground."

Sylvester sighed and looked around, only to witness heaps of debris, some adorned with withered vegetation. The place was once the abode of the formidable Sandwall house, but it had been reduced to ruins by schemes of a single woman from Masan.

'Where are you, Felix?' He missed his good friend the most, and a hint of sadness entered his mind. 

"Wait…Are those people?" Aurora suddenly exclaimed and urged her horse forward.

In a moment, they arrived at what appeared to be a large slum, or perhaps even worse than that. There were hundreds of conical tents made of tattered garments of dirt color. They were small, and the people around them were also malnourished, barely wearing anything.

The crowd of poverty-stricken people slowly gathered as they noticed the noisy arrival of Sylvester's entourage. With fearful and hopeless eyes, they remained voiceless all the way. 

"Who are you, people?" Sylvester questioned them. "Sandwall was destroyed—Why do you still reside here?"

A man stepped forward to speak, and surprisingly, he wore clergyman robes. "Because Sandwall is their only home. For the crimes committed by the Count, the people are also enduring suffering. They have been shunned by any other County, Duchy, or Barony—these are the outcasts of Sol."

Sylvester looked at the sizable assemblage with pity. This was yet another unforeseen long-term consequence of Shadow of Masan's plans.

"Who are you?" the clergyman asked. "You are not brown." 

Aurora dismounted her horse. "I am the Ninth Guardian, Aurora Foxtron, and that is the Fourth Guardian, Soulbreaker. The man you address is Sylvester Maximilian—back from the clutches of death, after uncovering the plots of the Masan Empire, which schemed and destroyed Sandwall. Count Sandwall was innocent, Priest."

"What?"  I think you should take a look at

"We're innocent?" 

The people murmured, looking left and right. Their feeble bodies didn't even have enough strength to shout or cheer. Only confusion could they afford.

At that, Sylvester stepped forward and conjured a halo behind his head, but he didn't sing, for it wasn't the time. "I am Lord's Bard, Sylvester Maximilian. Do not fret, my people. Today, your suffering ends. Food, water, and shelter will all be taken care of, and soon the Sandwall will be rebuilt—have faith."

Sylvester then looked at the priest. "Bring me to your monastery outpost." 

The priest just stared at Sylvester's face with his jaw agape. Nobody could miss recognizing that shining halo. 

"Y-You're truly the Lord Bard? But…he's meant to be nine feet tall, and his voice as heavy as the thunder from the sky!"

"..."

Sylvester looked at Aurora's face. He had no damn clue what had occurred in the East during his absence, or what kind of propaganda had been spread by the various loyal bards across the continent.

Bonk!

Aurora chopped on the priest's head. "Fool, those are just exaggerated words. Lord Bard doesn't need to be nine feet tall to destroy mountains. It's something he can accomplish even in his sleep."

The priest bobbed his head stupidly. "T-That makes sense…Please come with me. We have set up a walled camp for the monastery work." 

Together with the dwarves, they followed to the rear of the downtrodden camp. There, a guarded encampment came into view, enclosed by wooden fences at least two meters high. It wasn't large, with an area of approximately fifty square meters.

"After what transpired in the Holy Land, some of us who refused to accept the new Pope came here and began taking care of the people." The priest briefed them. "Initially, we intended to head West, but upon finding so many people in misery, we decided to help."

"What's the current situation?" Sylvester inquired. 

"Not good," the priest replied. "The church has dispatched their army to attack the Green City of Gracia. They seek to take Mother Xavia from there and kill her… That's what I've heard."

Sylvester nearly killed his poor horse as his body jerked from the news. 'If she dies, all of this will be meaningless…Niel, I will make sure you experience pain unlike any human in history.'

"But why?" Dagorith questioned. Hailing from the West, he wasn't well-versed in Eastern politics.

Aurora glanced at Sylvester to see his reaction before answering. "Because… Mother Xavia is Lord Bard's mother, and she is his source of strength—if something happens to her, the faith will lose their true Pope."

"Why woul—" Dagorith wanted to ask further but shut his mouth abruptly once he noticed Sylvester's cold face. Indeed, the world would lose its true Pope if Xavia perished, for she was the reason Sylvester worked so hard—to make a peaceful life with her.

Amidst the silence, the priest led them to the largest tent in the center of the encampment. Everyone dismounted their horses and entered the dilapidated dwelling.

Sylvester took the lead and proceeded to find the person in charge, a Bishop, as the priest had mentioned.

"May the Holy Light enlighten us." Sylvester greeted and surveyed his surroundings. The space was cramped, with several tables positioned near the tent walls. Priests sat there, engrossed in writing and stamping documents.

Meanwhile, right at the center of the room was a single table occupied by a man wearing a Bishop's mitre.

"May the Holy Light Enlight—" The Bishop found his tongue frozen once he glanced up and noticed the long blonde hair, face better than any noble prince, and eyes more golden than gold itself. "You…" 

The Bishop rose to his feet, removing his headdress, his eyes brimming with tears. "Y-You…Y-You fucking retard!" 

"..." 

All the priests dropped their quills and looked up, startled by their typically gentle, red-haired leader resorting to such foul language.

Sylvester erupted into laughter. "Haha! Those are the first words you utter to your best friend who returned from death…Gab? I'm hurt." 

Gabriel vaulted over the table and, in a single bound, embraced Sylvester in a brotherly hug, tears streaming down his face. "Welcome back—my brother. You have grown taller…and regrettably, more handsome."

Sylvester chuckled and released himself from the embrace to see his friend's face. Gabriel bore no resemblance to his former self. Now, he possessed short, red hair, a weathered face adorned with age lines, and weary eyes marked by dark circles.

"You look old, Gab. What happened to you?" 

Gabriel sighed and looked down. "I…I was lost after your 'demise.' After I reached the pinnacle of my magical and knightly strength…only books were my solace." 

Gabriel stepped back and picked a book from his table. "This is what becomes of you after reading every single book in the church's advance library—over and over." 

____________________

[A/N: See Gabriel Maxwell.]

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