Awakening the Great Bloodline Chapter 164

Chapter 164: The Lighthouse Without Light

The Allied Forces had crossed yet another village. Inside the fences, darkness pressed in like a solid wall. The Mountain Rabbits set up camp, driving posts into the crumbling walls. Soldiers gathered around the bonfires in silence, warming their hands.

As the flas crackled and spread, a small light flickered to life on the other side. The rcenaries had lit up tobacco leaves.

"Sothing from across the water?"

"Yes, it's from the Latia mountains. Maybe that's why—tastes absolutely terrible."

Vice-captain Marik took a draw of soone's tobacco, then returned to his spot. It was where Calix and Ella were sitting.

"There were many nights like this before."

The firelight danced along the creases carved into his face. Within those flas, Marik recalled the days of his past.

No—it was all of their story.

"The Mountain Rabbits' beginnings were no different from anyone else's. Every last one of us was rough-edged, and our tempers ran wild as we pleased. There was no outstanding leader like Royce, no chain of command whatsoever. Looking back now, we were little more than vagabonds scraping together whatever we could just to survive."

Basim handed him a cup of ward spirits. His expression was outwardly indifferent, yet the warmth in his heart had been poured right into that cup.

"All kinds of people drifted into whatever camp the Mountain Rabbits were staying in. Quack barbers, ndicant monks and blustering fortune-tellers, won selling their bodies alongside the thieves watching them, even children begging for scraps. Ella, you probably rember it all."

"……Yes. Back then, I couldn't have imagined things turning out like this."

Marik answered Ella's unspoken question slowly, but in a calm, asured voice.

Where is the line between good and evil?

"I was no different from any of them. I was a killer who used to steal for a living, rifling through the pockets of the weak to fill my own belly. I ran away and turned my back on my family, and to bury that guilt, I poured all of it into hating monsters."

Yes—he had been a wicked man.

The Mountain Rabbits sitting around the fire exchanged glances. The veterans quietly bowed their heads; the newcors wore expressions of disbelief.

His steady voice continued.

"There must be no shortage of n among the rcenaries who followed us here who are just like I was. Drifters will do whatever they must to stay alive. So harm others for their own gain, so just to patch over their own wounds inside, and so swing a blade for no reason at all—just for the thrill of it."

The color drained from Ella's face.

"But even so……."

At that mont, Marik added in a low voice,

"People change. Getting back up after the mistakes of the past, fighting alongside your comrades, pushing forward and striving to keep on living—that's what I believe matters most."

***

"People change. Getting back up after the mistakes of the past, fighting alongside your comrades, pushing forward and striving to keep on living—that's what I believe matters most."

Volga picked up a handkerchief and dabbed the corner of Gregor's mouth. The old man had been focused entirely on his bowl of soup up until this mont.

Then, carefully, a voice spoke up.

"So then…… Even if soone has done terrible things, can they still be forgiven? If they end up on the right side, is that enough?"

A purity unique to the young shone in Volga's face as he asked. Adrian, seated nearby, wore an expression that was difficult to read. He, too, seed to be a man not quite free of his own past.

Marik bit into a bitter smile.

"That, I can't say. Maybe we'll find out when we reach the very end of it all. But one thing I know for certain—we're walking with our backs against each other's. It's too soon to spend our days wallowing in regret and defeat."

"Couldn't agree more!"

Gregor chid in right on cue.

Calix looked over at Ella, who had fallen deep into thought. For a conversation held in the middle of a march, it had gone to a surprisingly profound place. And yet, even all of this had its aning.

‘I had to get it out into the open at so point.’

Ella's wandering was not born from weakness. The Mountain Rabbits, too, had let spill everything they had been carrying inside themselves.

The first to speak had been Royce, who had returned from seizing the Iron Well.

"Marik speaks the truth. Every person carries a burden through this life. Whether by their own poor judgnt, or simply by misfortune, they end up paying for it with a comrade's life. I am called the leader, but I cannot deny that there are far more I failed to protect than those I saved. Every now and again, I find myself wishing the mbers would just go back ho."

At the leader's confession, the mood around them grew heavy. On his arms and legs, the sll of blood he had never quite managed to scrub away still lingered.

Looking back—he had crossed the edge of death more tis than he could count.

The Mage Yelayen added his own words.

"I find myself unable to disagree. We fight against things that are wicked, and yet in truth, all of this is nothing more than a process of restoring balance. The world cannot exist with only light, nor can it be swallowed entirely in darkness."

He dragged the tip of his staff through the ash as he continued.

"Without the night, neither the farr's hands nor the warrior's sword can rest. A world of light alone will only burn itself into nothing."

Conviction lived inside those brief words. The Mountain Rabbits fell into collective silence. Volga stared at the mage's face and blinked slowly; Adrian nodded with an unreadable expression. Ella pressed a hand to her chest and lowered her gaze.

Her complexion had eased sowhat—yet beneath that surface, sothing was beginning to stir.

Calix watched the smoke billowing upward and quietly sorted through the things drifting across his mind. All of their stories had converged into one.

‘The magic of Chaos is no different from that. A power that belongs to neither light nor darkness. I, too, am standing sowhere between the two.’

In that mont, the core in his chest let out a faint tremor. The power of Chaos implanted by the Gatekeeper, which had been coiled tight within him, began slowly dissolving, bit by bit.

Though still incomplete in part, if he gently kept at it, he would one day reach the end. That, perhaps, was the ultimate destination Yelayen had spoken of for him.

***

The conversation from that day flowed from the top down. The key figures among the Mountain Rabbits spoke with the veteran rcenaries, and from there the veterans passed it to the newcors, until at last it spread widely among the rank-and-file rcenaries.

Of course, among them, practical concerns took precedence over idealistic words.

"This month's pay…… Will it actually make it back ho intact?"

"Once the war in the north is over, we go back, right?"

"A man can't keep fighting forever."

There was no shortage of grievances that had been kept buried.

The rcenaries grumbled and sighed, pouring out their complaints one after another. And yet not a single one of them laid down their sword. So traced the nas of their sons in the dirt using the elven script; others turned over the worn rings their wives had given them. They, too, had things left worth protecting.

But the person who changed the most was Ella.

She had been watching all of this in quiet stillness—until at last she walked toward where the clergy of the Order had gathered. She could no longer keep her silence.

"In the old days, I would have kept quiet too. I would have leaned on nothing but the words, 'do not lose your faith'."

Ella opened her mouth with a firm tone.

"Now I understand. A handful of words cannot hold back the cold, nor can they stop the pain."

The clergy gathered in a circle and listened carefully to the woman's words. Across from her sat Sier. Teacher and student clashed once again.

"I, too, fear that. There are tis when I cannot tell whether prayer is aningless, or whether my own faith is simply not enough. But holding onto it regardless—that is what faith is."

The two of them argued again and again—on horseback, during rest stops along the march, even in the imdiate aftermath of small skirmishes.

Ella looked out at the backs of the Mountain Rabbits.

Those who fought enemies in the day, and fought their own dread through the night. They called themselves lowly, but the orange light spreading across their faces was more noble than anyone else's.

"No. That is not enough on its own."

At last, Ella spoke.

"It must be turned into action, not just words. We must shoulder the wounds and the despair alongside others, and reach out a hand. If that is the way to hold onto tomorrow, then I will gladly step forward and do it."

At those words, spoken with such conviction, the eyes of the Order's clergy wavered for the very first ti. The questions that had long swirled inside them like loose dust seed to gather now into a single solid mass.

Why were they adrift? Why had they been pushed beyond the borders of the Holy Empire, reduced to seeking the strength of others?

The answer was not so far away. After that, a handful of clergy ca to find Ella in secret. They knew that the woman standing before them would be the one to complete that answer.

And not long after that, fortune and misfortune crossed paths.

The Beacons of Souls.

They had arrived at the final destination in their campaign to seize the south.

Toward dawn, the Allied Forces at last had the holy site within sight. Beyond the hills, a pale grey light was spreading, and soldiers exhaled white breath as they readied their weapons. Wagon wheels clattered against the frozen earth, and warhorses drew in heavy breaths, responding to the air of the battlefield.

Hadiya returned from scouting and reported,

"Just over that hill and you'll see it. It's not as far off as I thought."

A mont later—just as she had said, through the mist a heavy silhouette gradually erged. Rising above the plain, perched atop a vast gorge: a white structure. The Beacons of Souls.

But there was no light.

On the contrary, the surrounding flatlands were ringed by layer upon layer of standing stones. From a distance they had appeared to be a wall, but drawing closer revealed them to be stone pillars.

Gregor's brow crumpled sharply.

"Cook comrade…… There's a foul sll."

"……It's the Rite-Stones."

Weapons of wicked things. Through the cool morning air, a dark energy spread faintly outward, pressing in on all who approached.

But perhaps because of the conversations they had shared—the Mountain Rabbits wore expressions of resolve rather than fear, pressing down on their tension.

In the midst of all this, Calix and Royce exchanged a brief word.

"The numbers aren't great. Looks like just over three thousand."

"We'll need to keep the gorge terrain in mind as well. The natural landscape will beco an obstacle."

"Yes. In practice, it'll be sothing close to a siege."

They had gauged the enemy's strength in advance, but there was no room for carelessness.

The Allied Forces led with the Silver Shield Legion at the center, pushing infantry forward. Soon, Calix climbed along the slope and called out:

"Front—watch the jutting rocks! Enemy contact!"

Royce and Marik drew their blades and followed close behind. With the narrow space, it was difficult to press forward with superior numbers.

And sure enough—the path spiraling upward. In every crevice between the rocks, the presence of the Corrupted could be felt. The higher they climbed toward the lighthouse, the more dense shadows snarled and lunged out at them.

Shields and spears clashed in an instant, tal rang against stone, and the reverberations rolled like thunder through the gorge. The swift movents of the elves were impressive, but above all, it was the dwarves who stood out.

"Hiding away like rats!"

Basim swept his short battle-axe in a wide arc and forced his way through a narrow gap.

"Legion—advance! Shields up, push forward!"

As Gregor bellowed his command, the veteran soldiers matched their steps in a single breath and shoved. The Corrupted couldn't even get a shriek out before they were hurled off the edge of the cliff.

A brief but sharp exchange of blows followed.

Boulders ca tumbling down, and the beasts that had been lurking in the depths charged in a last desperate surge—but their will to fight had already been broken.

When the path leading to the summit was finally cleared, the soldiers at the vanguard let out a low cheer. Sunlight pouring down through the gorge's ridges seeped toward the lighthouse, and the drawn tension of the long battle began to ease.

Yet Calix did not feel certain of victory. The capture had gone too smoothly, and that unsettled him.

‘The beasts were only hiding in the crevices of the gorge. Legion Commander Verhas isn't here—and neither are the powerful individuals that follow him.’

At that mont, Sier stepped forward with color rising in his face. He had co here once before, decades ago, as a lone pilgrim.

The acting pope pressed his hands together and began a prayer to rekindle the fla of faith.

"Kriya—let the light shine forth! Lift the darkness, and guide the souls that are lost! May your light once more co to rest upon the lighthouse……."

One by one, the clergy knelt and joined in chorus, and upon the white floor, a pattern symbolizing the sacred law's invocation began to bloom.

A warm breeze passed through. The black standing stones crumbled, and the ashen mist churned and shook.

Everyone held their breath and watched that mont. Thousands among the vanguard, and the main Allied Forces encircling the base of the gorge below—all of them waited for a divine miracle.

And then.

"……Wait? What changed? Is it just who can't see anything?"

"……."

Nothing had changed.

Volga looked around in bewildernt. The lamp at the top of the lighthouse remained sunk in deep sleep. Cold, stone-still—not even the faintest sign that a fla might catch.

Sier's lips hardened to stone. Calix looked up at the scene in silence, and Royce exhaled a heavy breath.

Perhaps because the battle had only just ended—an even deeper quiet now blanketed the gorge.

The plan had broken apart. As Sier closed his eyes in an attempt to conceal their trembling, Ella spoke softly in his place.

"……The light does not co."

Yelayen nodded, his face shadowed with grief.

"It was not that it was left unguarded—it simply had no need to be guarded."

Below the hill, thick mist crept slowly upward. The darkness had not been defeated. It was rely concealing its next move.

Calix looked out over the northern plains from atop the gorge. Far in the distance, a faint crimson shadow was moving.

It was an imnse evil—not yet arrived, yet undeniably there.

It was Legion Commander Verhas.