Chapter 1480: The Vanishing Kingdom
An ironclad warship flew the imperial banner as it anchored offshore. Dragonrider fighter jets hummed low overhead, while fully armed steel rangers patrolled the beach. For Wasp and Night Owl, this display of military might brought an indescribable sense of security.
On the rocky, desolate coastline, the landing team had cleared a temporary camp. A high-powered mobile communications station and a magical network array reestablished contact between Violet Island and North Harbor. Field shield generators warded off the biting winter wind sweeping in from the sea. Wasp and Night Owl sat on a large boulder, each holding a steaming packet of instant soup, feeling the chill inside them slowly ebb away.
In front of them stood a pillar-like device. Its lower half was encased in hexagonal alloy plates, while the upper section was layered with overlapping crystal panels. Magical energy shimmered faintly between the crystals, and a steady, even heat radiated outward, quickly raising the camp’s temperature to a comfortable level.
Several soldiers hung their mess kits on hooks beside the heater. The food inside began to emit a tempting aroma as it warmed.
The device stirred memories in Wasp’s mind—back when she was a mage apprentice, she had seen similar contraptions in her mentor’s tower. Wizards of the old era filled their homes with enchanted items that could alter the environment: magical hearths that kept entire towers warm as spring, or ice mirrors that cooled sprawling castles. These artifacts were marvels of craftsmanship, often flaunting the maker’s skill and wealth.
Even the simplest magical tools were made with exquisite complexity and costly materials. A fireplace that emitted a wide-area heat field might be built from obsidian bricks and refined gold ingots—a lifestyle unimaginable to common folk of that time.
If her mentor hadn’t died on the walls of Saint Suniel, she wondered what he would think of this era. Probably he’d curse this plain-looking “portable outdoor heater” as soulless—and then sneak off to the market to buy one, just to dismantle it and study its workings.
Lost in these old thoughts, Wasp blinked and shook her head. She heard the black-haired dragonborn woman speaking to her and Night Owl: “Your ‘store manager,’ Silver-Eyed Kolod, was lost during the disappearance of Prandel City. Unfortunately, we may not be able to recover his body… Did he leave behind any relics?”
“No,” Wasp replied, voice low. “All his personal effects were taken by that fog. If anything, Night Owl and I are his legacy.”
“…I see,” Maggie said, studying the two intelligence agents’ calm expressions. She nodded slowly and shifted the topic. “I need to learn more from you. You witnessed the Prandel fog event firsthand and have operated on Violet Island for years. The intelligence you hold is crucial to us.”
Wasp nodded, her gaze drifting to the steel rangers patrolling nearby and the warship—the “Cold Star”—floating offshore. The presence of such a capital warship clearly crossed the usual boundaries of one nation spying on another. It was a clear sign that the empire’s upper echelons recognized the extraordinary nature of Violet’s “supernatural phenomenon” and understood that Violet might have already lost its function as a sovereign state.
To the empire’s leaders, the Kingdom of Violet was no longer a normal country but an “anomalous zone” completely shrouded by supernatural forces.
“Were there any signs before the fog appeared?” Maggie asked from across the clearing. “I mean short-term warnings—we already know about the unusual events across Violet over the past month.”
“No signs,” Wasp shook her head. “The fog came suddenly, without any warning. Night Owl and I were indoors; we didn’t even notice when it arrived until we looked out the window and saw something was wrong.”
Maggie carefully noted the details, then asked, “The fog itself wasn’t harmful, right?”
“Correct. We moved through it as usual. The mist was odorless, harmless, and I barely felt its presence. It was like some kind of… illusion—visible but not truly existing in the real world.”
“Mr. Modir mentioned faint lights inside the buildings’ windows and doors within the fog,” Maggie continued. “When people looked that way, shadowy, shifting shapes appeared, like twisted limbs pressed against rough crystal glass, peering out. Is that accurate?”
“Yes,” Wasp confirmed. “And not just buildings—carriages parked by the roadside showed the same phenomenon.”
Night Owl chimed in, recalling last night’s details: “Any enclosed space with transparent or semi-transparent windows or doors had those strange shadows. We suspect these were the original ‘citizens’ of Prandel, manifesting in the fog in some more essential form. And as you said, these figures reacted to our gaze—the longer we looked, the stranger their shapes became.”
Maggie nodded, jotting down the new information. She asked several more questions, gradually piecing together the intelligence on the “Prandel fog” from the previous night. After she finished, Modir spoke up:
“Did the fog reappear while you waited for rescue? Or were there other phenomena?”
“No,” Wasp said, shaking her head thoughtfully. Then she suddenly remembered something and added quickly, “Right after sunrise, shortly after we left Prandel, we saw some mist rising on the rocky shore. From it, the ‘store manager’s’ figure emerged to bid us farewell.”
“An unstable overlapping state,” Modir murmured. “That must have been the final moment when the ‘other world’ severed its connection with reality.”
The legendary adventurer stood slowly, eyes turning toward the island’s interior. The rocky beach stretched inland, with the former site of Prandel City to the northwest—a vast, empty wilderness now. To the north lay a dense, lush forest.
The forest was shadowy, so thick that even sunlight barely reached the outermost shrubs. But Modir’s attention was drawn to something else—there seemed to be no “fog” within the woods.
He wasn’t referring to the thick mist that had enveloped Prandel the night before, but to the “fog locks” that had long filled the dense forests throughout Violet, as described in the reports.
Before Prandel vanished, all intelligence briefings mentioned this persistent mist. It was said to possess supernatural power—disrupting perception, blocking paths, even banishing those who entered back to the forest’s edge. Not even supernaturals could pass through it.
This endless forest and its ever-present fog formed Violet’s “inland barrier,” wrapping around cities like the Thousand-Tower City and blocking outsiders’ attempts to spy on the mysterious kingdom. Neither Cecil’s intelligence agents nor spies sent by Typhon had been able to penetrate it.
Yet now, Modir could clearly see the forest’s fog had dissipated, leaving only an unnatural gloom behind.
Night Owl noticed the old mage’s gaze and quickly understood his thoughts. She spoke up: “After we escaped, the fog that always filled the forest vanished. It hasn’t returned since.”
“You didn’t venture deeper into the island?” Modir asked sharply.
“No,” Night Owl shook her head. “Though the fog disappeared, the forest remained unnaturally dark. There’s clearly something else strange there. Wasp and I only observed from the edge before retreating to the beach.”
“You did well,” Modir nodded approvingly. “Without understanding the island’s current ‘rules,’ rushing into the interior is dangerous.”
“Prandel disappeared in the fog, and the forest’s perennial mist vanished too… Is there a connection?” Maggie mused. “It feels like both the city and the forest fog depended on the same ‘source,’ which is now fading from reality…”
“Miss Night Owl, I can only think of you,” Modir said slowly. “Whether it’s those shadowy residents from last night or the summons I received in my dreams, they all seem linked to that mysterious ancient deity. But I can’t quite grasp what it wants to convey… One thing is clear, though: Violet, the so-called ‘Mage Kingdom,’ is really a shadow realm. At least Prandel City was clearly ruled by shadow forces.”
He shook his head, then casually traced a few glowing runes in the air. A phantom eyeball materialized between the symbols. After a brief pause, the eye turned toward the forest’s depths.
“The island’s interior is unknown and dangerous. I’ll send this Mage’s Eye ahead to scout. Its control range is quite good.”
As he spoke, the old mage layered the Mage’s Eye with a dozen elemental resistances and arcane protections, then added seven layers of mage armor and seven layers of force shields.
Wasp’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “You can put that many protections on a Mage’s Eye?!”
“A little trick I picked up on adventures,” Modir said matter-of-factly. “The wilderness is dangerous—who knows what you’ll run into if you’re unprepared.”
He gave the summoned eye a gentle push. Wasp and Night Owl watched as the heavily enchanted orb floated upward like a flying tank, slowly drifting toward the shadowy forest.
Although everyone knew that “magical effects” themselves had no weight, they couldn’t shake the feeling that this Mage’s Eye orb seemed almost too heavy to fly.
Maggie, standing nearby, was equally stunned. This Miss Black Dragon even suspected that this Mage’s Eye was tougher than herself…
Meanwhile, aboard the Froststar, where the command was held, Duchess Victoria was closely monitoring all the incoming reports from the exploration teams—not only Maggie and Modir’s group who had landed on the Prandel coast, but also the Frostwind and Ice Cavalry ships, which were constantly relaying updates from Rattle and Payne Harbor.
She glanced at the mechanical clock hanging nearby, then turned to one of the arcane network terminals on the communications desk. “Frostwind, report your position.”
The next moment, the voice of the Frostwind’s commander came through the terminal: “This is Frostwind. We’ve approached the outer harbor of Rattle… or at least where the outer harbor should be. No sign of Rattle City. I repeat, no sign of Rattle City. There’s only a vast stretch of untouched, barren coastline here!”
Victoria’s expression darkened like still water. “Confirm your coordinates and coastal terrain features.”
“Coordinates confirmed, terrain matches. We are near where Rattle City should be. The city itself has vanished.”
Victoria let out a slow breath. Almost simultaneously, another channel crackled to life with the urgent voice of the Ice Cavalry’s commander: “Report to the Grand Regent! This is Ice Cavalry! Payne Harbor has disappeared. I repeat, Payne Harbor has disappeared—we’re currently searching along the coastline but have found no trace of any city!”
“…Understood. Frostwind and Ice Cavalry, continue your coastal search. If no danger is detected, deploy landing parties to establish temporary bases and monitoring stations,” Victoria’s voice remained as cold and steady as winter ice. She then glanced up at the sky outside the porthole. “Regardless of progress, everyone must return to their ships before sunset. No one is to spend the night on the island.”
“Understood, Frostwind.” “Understood, Ice Cavalry.”
The communications with the two warships were temporarily suspended. Victoria exhaled softly, but before she could fully release her breath, Maggie’s landing team sent a communication request.
Once connected, the first thing Victoria saw was the face of her ancestor projected in hologram.
“The mist barrier inside the island’s dense forest has disappeared,” Modir reported bluntly. “I just sent a Mage’s Eye northward into the woods. It’s nearly at the limit of my control range now. From above, the Mage’s Eye sees nothing but endless primeval forest and some oddly large clearings—no cities, no villages, no roads. How are things on your end?”
“…What you said before has come true,” Victoria said slowly, pressing her lips together. “The Violet Kingdom… it really has vanished.”
(End of chapter)