“Medea… what exactly…?”
Only after they’d successfully slipped away from the Northern Wall under Medea’s cover did Ritsuka finally voice the question gnawing at them.
“Ah, that just now? Lord Merlin really is remarkably generous,” Medea said, her tone almost fond. “To him it was probably the most basic fragment of it, but for me… it was more than enough to benefit tremendously.”
“Huh? Merlin handed you his illusioncraft?”
Ritsuka’s eyes went wide.
Thinking about what Medea would go on to do—now add illusioncraft at Merlin’s level—
No. That wasn’t the point.
Ritsuka shook their head hard, forcing themself back on track.
“Medea, what’s the situation now?”
What left Ritsuka at a loss was that after a brief moment of thought, Medea simply—decisively—shook her head.
“Honestly… I’m not entirely sure, either.”
“You don’t know either?” Lily frowned and pressed.
“It seems Master doesn’t want us involved in what comes next,” Medea said. “Probably for our sake as well. If we don’t count the god over there, our fighting strength on this side is… frankly, lacking.”
Medea shook her head again, then her expression tightened.
“But I have a very bad feeling.”
“A… bad feeling?” Mash spoke up, and Medea nodded.
“So I’m hoping you’ll all come with me for a bit.”
“Come with you?” Ritsuka hesitated, torn.
“But we have important information we have to deliver to Ophis…”
Merlin’s last words before dying had been full of that prophet-act nonsense, but that wasn’t a reason to ignore them—especially when that “prophet” had always been uncomfortably good at his job.
They had to tell Ophis.
“Is that so?” Medea tapped a finger lightly against her lips, then glanced at Quetzal. “True. We can’t ignore Master’s side either… In that case, just send one person to pass on the message. We already have enough fighting strength here.”
Ritsuka’s mouth twitched.
Why did it feel like the real reason Medea had sought out this Master… was the superweapon of a goddess bound to them?
…
Inside Uruk, the citizens were evacuating in orderly lines. At the very rear of the procession, a middle-aged man in priestly robes stood with hands clasped behind his back, his face set like stone.
“Monsters climbed the wall and got into the city!”
The shout came from far off, and the high priest’s expression flickered.
It was the voice of the young priest he’d stationed atop the wall to watch.
So it was true. There were simply too many—so many that even the goddesses couldn’t stop them completely.
“How many?” he demanded.
“Not a lot yet, but they keep pouring in without end. The City Guard positioned at the wall can’t hold much longer.”
The young priest wasn’t even winded from running, but tension pinched his features tight.
The high priest nodded.
The evacuation was nearly done. If they could just hold a little longer—
His gaze hardened. He reached out and clapped the young priest on the shoulder.
“Guiding the people is yours.”
“Huh?”
Before the young priest could even process that, he felt his body go light—his longsword was already gone, drawn cleanly from his waist by the high priest.
“We move.”
The other priests had heard as well. They nodded, each pulling their own weapons as they closed in around the high priest—while a handful of the younger ones were forcibly held back.
They were Uruk’s seed.
Led by the high priest, the group of priests strode toward the monsters.
This was an age where having power meant you could ignore the rules. You didn’t climb to their position without knowing how to swing steel.
If anything, their fighting prowess was probably higher than their ability to manage affairs.
At the very least, holding the monsters back for a while should be well within their means.
As they advanced, the high priest suddenly caught the clatter of armor. He lifted a brow.
From around the corner ahead came a squad of roughly fifty black-armored warriors, fully equipped.
“My Lord.”
The soldier at the front dipped into a slight bow, saluting the priests.
“You… weren’t you assigned to guard the temple?” the high priest asked, frowning.
Ophis’s direct troops were excellent in every way—except they were rigid. Ophis said one, and they would never do two.
A fine virtue in soldiers, perhaps. But when the priests had been refused aid because of that rigidity…
It was hard not to carry a bit of resentment.
The lead soldier’s expression didn’t change as he met the high priest’s eyes.
“By the newest command of King Ophis, we will assist you in repelling the invading monsters.”
“I see.” The high priest maintained his usual icy calm and gave a curt nod—then his eyes snapped wide as the words landed.
“Wait. The King is back?”
…
Siduri slowly regained consciousness.
While she’d been unconscious, the final modifications had completed automatically. Abundant draconic power flowed through her body, leaving her in a state of perfection she’d never known.
Siduri could no longer be called human.
A pureblood dragon’s blood alone could create vassals; altering an ordinary human was hardly difficult at all.
She still hadn’t reached the level of a true pureblood dragon, but the bloodline running through her now was enough to be considered a high-ranking strain among dragonkind.
Her thoughts were still hazy. All she felt was something soft behind her head.
“Mm…”
She opened her eyes in a daze, and the first thing she saw was Ophis’s delicate little face…
Upside down.
“My King?!”
Siduri jolted upright.
“Siduri. Awake?” Ophis asked.
“My King, just now—”
Siduri glanced at Ophis’s thigh, hidden beneath the long robe. Beneath her veil, heat rushed to her face. She coughed softly to cover it.
Looking at Ophis now gave her an unfamiliar closeness—like facing blood kin. It sat strangely in her chest.
“My King… when did you return?” Siduri asked, forcibly straightening her posture into that of a subordinate, then bowing.
“Just now.”
“Then—congratulations on your safe return. But, my King, the situation—?”
Siduri was used to Ophis’s answers that carried little concrete detail. She pivoted immediately to what she truly cared about.
Ophis nodded, then flicked her hand. A screen unfolded in the air.
In the image, the City Guard and the grotesque monsters were locked in a melee—but the outcome was already obvious. The City Guard were being driven back step by step, clearly unable to hold much longer. At the same time, a large portion of the monsters were climbing over surrounding buildings, bypassing the City Guard entirely, heading straight for the heart of Uruk.
The sight clenched Siduri’s heart.
“O King—please, act!”
—
T/N: its been a while since i translated this…
This is a fan translation of 无限龙神找不回寂静 by 呆毛神 rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
Reader discussion
0 Comments
Be the first reader to share a thought about this chapter.