Chapter 655 Panic

A few tens of minutes later at the South drawbridge of Lodunvals.

The night was well on its way and the first light of dawn was already coming through. Since Jake’s departure, there had been no newcomers to check on, which was quite normal at an hour when most humans were supposed to be sleeping.

As the red sun became fully defined on the horizon, tinting the sky a range of colors from near-scarlet orange to magenta verging on purple, the first ox-drawn wagon and an early-morning driver showed up at the other end of the cobblestone road.

Inside the cart, under a thick burlap cloth, a dozen refugees were packed together, still shaking with fear after what they had been through. If Jake had been there, he would have recognized some of the many villagers he had rescued during the night.

The one driving the cart was a retired old adventurer with a lame leg who had nothing left to lose. He had offered to escort the volunteer survivors after some of them had finally regretted not taking up Jake’s offer to travel with him.

Indeed, no later than fifteen minutes after Jake’s departure from their ruined village, the mop-up companions of the eliminated bandits had quickly turned up with alcohol and some unfortunate prisoners they’d found who knew where. Finding their camp exterminated, their vengeful wrath was automatically directed against the survivors who had just been rescued.

Their refusal to follow Jake to Lodunvals was immediately punished by several more deaths, but those who still had some sense finally realized that the ideal of staying safely tucked inside their village did not hold a candle to their own lives.

They had fled, forming the mismatched cart of refugees that was heading for Lodunvals. When the cart stopped at the drawbridge, the two beasts of burden pulling the cart mooed in delight and the same halberd-wielding guard who had blocked Jake’s path stood in their way.

“Halt! ID cards. Otherwise, please follow my colleague to be tested.” He ordered dutifully.

Obviously, these reactionary villagers had never been tested and were all undocumented, including the former adventurer. Now that they had made up their minds, they were not so reluctant and complied with the procedure with no protest.

The lame adventurer went first to set an example and reassure the others, following the bearded guard into the tower to receive his test. A few seconds later, a shocked scream rang out from inside, alerting the halberd-wielding guard watching the bridge.

“What’s going on?” The guard chided his comrade sternly as he saw him storm out of the tower completely flustered.

“Th-the Minmin…” The other guard gasped in horror.

“The Minmin what? Speak properly and stop stuttering!” His colleague grew impatient. After a sleepless night standing guard on the bridge, his nerves were on edge.

“She’s gone…”

“WHAT?!”

The halberd-wielding guard began to sweat profusely, his face adopting the same cadaverous complexion as the bandits Jake had slaughtered. He ran full speed into the tower, climbing the stairs three at a time until he reached the dusty, damp room at the top. Finding nothing but a pile of grimoire and parchments in disarray, his legs suddenly became wobbly and a dizziness compelled him to sit down.

“We’re done for… I can kiss my promotion goodbye.” He closed his eyes, vainly hoping to end this nightmare by ignoring reality.

Unfortunately, it was without counting on his more pragmatic colleague. Of a lower rank than the guard with the halberd, the responsibility of this blunder would not be carried by him, or in any case he would not have to fear the consequences. The worst he would risk was being demoted or transferred elsewhere.

“Shall we notify Count Laudar?” He asked tactlessly.

His superior’s closed eyes immediately widened.

“Of course we’re notifying him! Right away!”

While the two panicked guards rushed to warn their superiors, the culprit had already long since disappeared into the streets of Lodunvals, unaware of the mess they were about to create.

*****

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This city was larger than Jake had imagined. Walking normally without rushing, it would take two to three hours as the crow flies to get across the city.

Again, he could have sprinted or flown, even teleported to save time, but he had no intention of drawing attention to himself at such an early stage of the Ordeal.

Ever since he heard the prophecy from Trash’s mouth, he had given up on the idea of flying at top speed and non-stop to Celestial City. This prophecy was not only a warning to the natives, but also a treasure trove of clues for the Players. The last two verses in particular were particularly enlightening.

“Blood shall be shed, empires shall fall, until the last heroes turned villains claim their place in glory.

It shall be then, when the purifying flames fall on Quanoth, that the old shall become the new again, ushering in a new age.”

Jake could be misled by the deceptive “Race Against Time” theme and dash to the Celestial City as quickly as possible, but those two sentences, if true, were a complete game changer.

For what those two lines implied was that the world would not end until the fighting was over. There were of course several possible interpretations, literal or figurative, but with his experience of the previous Ordeals Jake had the intuition that Race Against Time was referring to something else.

Jake already understood at least one thing. Joining the Celestial City was easy. Maybe not for an ordinary Player, but for him it was not a challenge. What was really difficult was to stay there.

Since most of the serious candidates would wait until the last minute to get on board, could it be called a Race Against Time? Not really.

So who was this Race Against Time against? And how would it unfold?

Jake already had his own idea about this.

Moments later, when the sun was fully up and the streets were springing to life, Jake spotted a majestic building with many pointed towers overlooking Lodunvals from the top of a cliffside. The natural hill had been specifically chosen for its strategic location and ease of defense.

The tiles covering the tops of these towers looked like carnelian and all the carvings, gargoyles and gilding were pure gold. The largest statue sitting cross-legged on the roof resembled a faceless titanic child weighing a hundred tons and holding a world map in his hands.

The statue was not very detailed, having no fingers, no clothes, no toes, its species difficult to ascertain. The child carved in a huge block of pyrite smiled mischievously, reflecting the sunrise rays in a magnificent fashion.

This was the representation that the natives of Quanoth had of their unique god Aurae. There were other cults on this planet, but none of them could match it, and these religions had only minor sect status. As long as they did not harm public order, their existence was tolerated, but this was not true everywhere.

“Jeanie, is this where the Prophetic Stele is located? Jake confirmed their destination as he gauged the huge cathedral with his eyes.

Only Trash was at his side, but a muffled female voice suddenly sounded from somewhere inside his clothes. So as not to arouse attention, Jake had outfitted medieval armor and a plain hooded cloak over his real outfit.

“It’s definitely there! Right at the top of the stairs!”

Jake followed the direction pointed by the tiny finger sticking out of his breastplate with his eyes and indeed found a marble staircase wide enough for fifty people to climb side by side.

Trash, who was walking nervously behind him, had gone mute since he learned that a Minmin was traveling with them. He was ignorant, but he had often heard about these poor fairies. Far from sympathizing, he feared their group would be attacked because of her.

The staircase was ridiculously long, with almost five hundred steps almost forty centimeters high, but Jake never quickened his pace, continuing to climb at a slow, measured pace. His heart beat only once during the climb while his chest remained completely still, as if he wasn’t breathing.

In contrast, the orphan’s breaths only got shorter, until they sounded like the wheezing, out-of-breath gasps of a desperate doe stalked by dogs after three days of hunting.

Once at the top, the teenager slumped to the ground, breathing heavily to catch his breath. He was exhausted.

“Your physical condition is really bad.” Jake teased Trash mercilessly, as he gently but firmly poked the curious head of the fairy popping out of one of his cloak’s pockets. “Behave yourself. You can come out once we find a safe place to crash.”

For a second, the teenager considered swearing at him, but he thought better of it. But that didn’t stop him from grumbling under his breath,

“It would be easier if I hadn’t been fasting for three days…”

Jake then became aware that the kid’s appetite for his chocolate bars was not just an unhealthy sweet tooth but his body crying out for food. A few chocolate bars were absolutely not enough to satisfy a malnourished teenager of his age.

“We’ll have a proper breakfast as soon as I get my Soul Class.” He then promised, triggering enthusiastic cheers from the orphan and the fairy hidden in his clothes.

A moment later, he arrived in front of the famous Prophetic Stele and calmly placed his hand on it.

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