Chapter 1315: After the Fall

Myrmina’s sudden words plunged the entire room into silence.

Every person present was a high-ranking official of the Empire. They all knew exactly who the figure that had just appeared was—and even more so, they understood who the “Old Stag” she mentioned referred to.

The silence stretched on for several seconds before the first to break it was Gawain. His reaction was far calmer and more composed than Myrmina had expected. He simply glanced quietly at her avatar and asked, “When did this happen?”

“Just now… but he moved fast. You probably won’t catch up,” Myrmina coughed lightly. Under the gaze of this mortal emperor, the former goddess’s expression shifted slightly. “He headed toward the Silver Empire—I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t…”

“So, he sensed the current state of those old followers,” Gawain nodded thoughtfully. “What’s the situation over in the Silver Empire?”

Myrmina was a bit surprised—she hadn’t expected Gawain to steer the conversation there so directly. But she quickly recovered and nodded. “He detected massive casualties in a short time and intense collective emotional fluctuations. The situation in the south isn’t looking good—but the fighting continues, and the defensive lines still hold. That’s all he can sense clearly for now; beyond that, it’s too vague.”

Gawain rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. “Is that so… The fact that the defenses still stand is the best news we’ve had. The enemy’s assault is fierce, but their greatest advantage is surprise. If the initial pressure can be withstood, the Silver Empire’s strength should be enough to hold the line…”

Seeing his reaction, Myrmina finally couldn’t hold back. “Aren’t you worried at all? Amon has already gone south to help the mortals—I thought you’d be…”

“He’s already there, isn’t he?” Gawain lifted his eyes and glanced at Myrmina. “He may even have arrived already. When it comes to gods ‘descending’ by their own will, your kind are always quick.”

Myrmina was momentarily at a loss for words, then after a few seconds, she admitted, “…That’s true.”

“He should know what he’s doing—and more importantly, what he must not do,” Gawain shook his head gently. Amon’s sudden move had caught him off guard as well, but now he had to make decisions and judgments from a higher vantage point—and… place his trust. “We all understand the rules governing the birth and operation of gods. We know there are loopholes that can be exploited, but the risks are enormous. No one dares to take them on in times of peace. But now, the priority is the survival of the entire civilized world. I hope Amon is fully aware of this line, because if he isn’t…”

Gawain stopped speaking, sighing softly after a few seconds. “Then for the future of the Silver Elves—and for himself—it will be a long, drawn-out disaster.”

…

Far away, the borderlands burned fiercely in the flames of war. The howling roar of sentinel towers collapsing seemed to echo across the entire realm, stirring uneasy currents through the dense forests of the Silver Empire. News from the front lines filtered back to the Elven capital through various channels—some true, some false—but regardless of their veracity, the reports were grim. Even the proud, ancient race could not help but feel anxious in the face of such sudden upheaval.

Amid this turmoil, a massive flying vessel tore through the night sky like a blazing meteor from the distant north. Amid roaring engines and the hum of magical resonance, it arrived at the heart of the Elven capital, where forest met plain, and landed on a wide lake north of the royal palace. Its radiant glow was visible throughout the city, but few ordinary citizens could immediately identify the battered craft’s origin. They gathered in confusion on the streets, speculating and debating what had suddenly descended upon the royal grounds. Only a handful of well-informed Silver Elves, those who had encountered the sanctum before, felt a deep, unsettling fear.

The elders recognized it at once—it was the “Silent Garden,” a detached unit from the Stars’ Sanctuary.

Valendian Goldvale, the Chancellor who remained in the capital, was the first to leave the palace. Leading an elite royal guard and a few military officers, he hurried to the lakeshore. There, he saw Chief Astromancer Verania leading the civil officials as they evacuated the badly damaged Silent Garden. He immediately approached her. “Great Astromancer, what happened in the north? We’ve lost all contact with the front… Why did the Silent Garden separate from the Sanctuary?”

“The barrier went out of control. Aberrations swarmed out—the Stars’ Sanctuary is no more. The Empress ordered the Sanctuary to seal the breach in the front lines,” Verania’s voice was low and grave. Her face was pale, eyes weary. Her mage’s robes bore scorch marks and tears, and blood stained her once-beautiful features. These wounds were from her repeated sorties to eliminate enemy anti-air defenses during the Silent Garden’s retreat. But compared to the dire situation, she no longer cared about her injuries.

Valendian’s expression stiffened instantly, his eyes wide with shock. Then, from Verania’s detailed report, the full picture of the front emerged—the grand wall’s collapse severed communications, the Stars’ Sanctuary fell over the horizon, and the Silent Garden fought through the inferno to reach the capital. All the pieces finally fell into place before him.

“You’re saying the Empress stayed in the Throne Hall?!” Valendian’s eyes widened in disbelief. In all his centuries, he had never felt such a bone-chilling dread. He looked behind Verania at the civil officials being escorted to the rest area by the royal guard—and did not see the familiar figure he sought. “Great Astromancer, do you realize what this means?!”

“The Throne has its own escape system,” Verania said calmly.

“But in that situation, the escape system won’t save her—the Empress will fall with the Sanctuary, and the entire crash zone is swarming with enemies within the escape system’s range!” Valendian lowered his voice, urgency thick in his tone. “The entire barrier area has been overrun. Do you think…”

His words were cut off by Verania’s serene expression. “Yes, I know.”

“You know?” Valendian was stunned, staring at the chief astromancer.

“Why do you think Her Majesty entrusted me to escort the civil officials back to the palace?” Verania fixed him with a steady gaze. After a moment, she nodded softly. “Reorganize the legions, Valendian. Arm our thousand-year-old veterans. Let them cross the Bridge of Return once more. The Stars’ Sanctuary has fallen, but the Silver Elves must hold their heads high.”

She drew a slow breath. In her eyes shimmered the fading sparks and flames that had risen when the Sanctuary fell beyond the horizon. In an instant, those flames transformed into the lush forests of the Silver Empire—and the rallying ranger legions.

“We have languished too long, Valendian. Under the Sanctuary’s protection and nurtured by these woods, we have been gentle, refined ‘long-ears’ for thousands of years. Many have forgotten how, when the lands of this continent were still wild and dark, the Silver Elves’ pioneers claimed the richest, most fertile lands—not through song, dance, or gentlemanly manners, but by strength and will.”

Under the night’s flickering lights, Valendian Goldvale listened to the chief astromancer’s somber words. Slowly, the gentle gaze he had carried for a millennium hardened into cold steel.

…

A flash of cold light cut through the smoky gloom, crackling with thunderous energy and shockwaves. In the next instant, a towering aberration—giant as a colossus—was cleanly sliced into three pieces by a sword’s edge. Its foul blood and flesh, shrouded in curling black smoke, fell to the ground, splattering the ornate, ancient tiles with a gruesome stain.

Elain spun in midair, twin blades flashing. Her golden hair and flowing garments bloomed like flowers before snapping shut as she landed lightly. She exhaled softly, flicking the blood from her blades with a hint of disgust as she stared at the decomposing, malformed flesh dissolving in the black smoke on the floor. After a few seconds, she muttered quietly, “At least I won’t have to clean this floor again…”

“Your swordsmanship is still impressive,” the Silver Empress’s voice came from beside her. Belsethia held a long staff in one hand and a bloodstained longsword in the other, smiling warmly at the young attendant who had grown up by her side. “No wonder, training daily with the royal guards has paid off.”

“You flatter me—ah, the floor here is filthy. You shouldn’t go any further,” Elain turned to speak, then frowned suddenly. “Maybe I should clean this up. There’s blood and oil everywhere…”

Belsethia glanced at her and chuckled. “At a time like this, do we really need to fuss over that?”

“…Alright, if you say so,” Elain shook her head, eyes alert as she scanned the tilted ground and swirling smoke. “Those monsters have already infiltrated this place… They climb fast and know exactly where to go… Could they have special ‘commando units’?”

“No, those climbing up are likely just stragglers separated from the main force during the assault,” Belsethia shook her head. “Have you noticed? They wander aimlessly, attacking on instinct. Even when they group up, they don’t use cover or coordinate—just like ordinary monsters. They’re nothing like the foes at the front who fight in organized groups with basic tactics.”

She spoke as she looked ahead at the slanting ground and the crumbling sanctuary ruins. The once-magnificent core of the sanctuary had collapsed in the assault, leaving a desolate field of broken walls and fallen pillars. Bright arcs of electricity occasionally tore through the smoky air, flashing and booming.

Beneath their feet, vast, web-like cracks stretched from where Belsethia stood to the horizon. The Stars’ Sanctuary had shattered into several large fragments during the fall. Even the barely intact central area was riddled with wide fissures, making every step perilous.

As for the ancient systems deep within the Starry Sanctum… they had all gone completely silent the moment it began to fall. This ancient fortress, which had served the Silver Elves for over ten thousand years, was finally reaching its end today.

“The energy shock from the Sanctum’s collapse likely disrupted the command systems among those monsters,” Belsethia said casually to Ilian as she scanned their surroundings. “They clearly don’t possess full independent intelligence. The discipline and tactical awareness they show probably come from a few intelligent individuals directing them from behind the lines. The fact that the creatures climbing up through the ruins have lost the ability to sense those ‘command signals’ is crucial information. It means their coordination can be severed by a strong magical pulse…”

“Yes, we need to get this vital intel out. Once communications with our allies on other fronts are restored, we’ll have a way to break the monsters’ organization,” Ilian replied calmly. “Rest assured, I will stay by your side until you’re safely out of this danger.”

Belsethia stopped and looked at her ever-present personal attendant, a faint smile crossing her lips. “Don’t you think we’re going to die here?”

“I don’t,” Ilian shook her head. “You are the Silver Queen. This tainted land is unworthy of claiming your life.”

“Hah, it may not help much, but it sounds good,” Belsethia chuckled. Then a low, buzzing sound suddenly came from behind her. She turned toward the noise and saw the collapsed Hall of Dominion, with the Throne of Command still standing at its center—silent and powerless, a lone relic amid the rubble. The escape shield that once protected the throne had long since shut down, its energy fully depleted.

“The escape system’s power is gone.”

“It absorbed the impact of the fall and the secondary damage from the hall’s collapse. For such an ancient system, it gave everything it had.”

“Yes… everything it had…” Belsethia murmured to herself, then shook her head.

She hadn’t lied to her subordinates—the Throne of Command did have an escape system. As the control core of the Starry Sanctum, it was equipped with one. But in the final moments before the Sanctum’s fall, she chose not to activate the escape launch sequence. Instead, she stayed in the hall, maintaining control over the Sanctum’s final trajectory and activating the escape system’s protective functions.

The reason was simple—the escape system’s flight range was limited, and the area where the Starry Sanctum was crashing had already been completely overrun by the tide of aberrations.

Even if the fall killed countless enemies, it wouldn’t clear the monsters lurking deep in the wastelands and forest barriers. Ejecting and escaping would only drop her into an even denser enemy zone, possibly right in the heart of their stronghold.

After weighing her options, Belsethia chose to stay. At least here, she could still hold the reins of her own fate.

(End of chapter)