Chapter 1506: Those Who Remain

An invitation had arrived—from a magical AI claiming to be one of the last guardians of this land. The destination it offered was the former capital of a kingdom that had long since vanished.

What made this even more remarkable was that this wasn’t the only “invitation” Maggie had received today. Not long ago, during her encounter with a mysterious silver-haired girl who called herself “Morningstar,” Maggie had been given a similar message. She still clearly remembered how Morningstar had relayed it: Lady Night was inviting King Gawain Cecil and his distinguished guards to visit the City of a Thousand Towers.

Suppressing her curiosity about the connection between Morningstar and the woman before her—Benadetto—Maggie’s expression grew serious. “The City of a Thousand Towers… that’s what the girl who called herself Morningstar mentioned as well. Does that city still exist?”

“Of course it does,” Benadetto replied with a faint smile. “As long as the Lord of Night endures, the City of a Thousand Towers will never vanish—whether in the waking world or beyond the borders.” She paused, as if anticipating their doubts. “I know what you’re thinking. You’ve uncovered the secrets of the Violet Kingdom and probably assume everything vanished with the awakening of the God’s Dream. But the truth is, this place is more than just a dream. Or to put it another way…”

Benadetto’s smile deepened. “In this world, dreams and reality have never been clearly separated.”

“That’s something our Majesty often says too,” Maggie nodded gently. “Alright, I believe the City of a Thousand Towers still exists. But may I ask—why invite us there? Morningstar mentioned it as well, but her invitation was for our Majesty and… well, probably Miss Amber.”

Maggie hesitated slightly at the end. From the context and logic of the situation, she felt Morningstar’s invitation from Lady Night was directed at Gawain and Amber. But the phrase “distinguished guards” felt oddly deliberate, making her instinctively suspicious.

Benadetto paid no mind to Maggie’s subtle pause. The magical AI, who had survived beyond the disappearance of the Violet Kingdom, maintained her usual gentle smile and spoke calmly: “Modril… great mortal adventurer, your journey has been epic, your deeds immortalized in the night. But I must ask—after such a long and arduous journey, after facing countless dangers and strange wonders, are you weary?”

Modril gazed quietly at the holographic projection floating in the air. At that moment, the great adventurer seemed to sense something. His eyes flickered briefly, then brightened again. A faint smile appeared on his aged face. “Not at all—and I feel I’ve rested long enough this time.”

“Very well, then please make your way to the City of a Thousand Towers. A true adventurer does not grow old in comfort and ease. The Lord of Night wishes for you to continue your journey.”

Benadetto’s voice was soft and respectful. She bowed slightly to Modril, as if honoring a great man. Modril accepted the gesture with calm dignity—accepting both the respect and the invitation.

“I understand. So the invitation is mainly for me, huh?” The old mage chuckled warmly. “Don’t worry, I’ll go… I’ve always wanted to see that legendary city with its thousand towers.”

Benadetto straightened and nodded lightly. Her gaze swept over Maggie and the nearby soldiers, all focused and alert. “I won’t keep you from your rest any longer. Rest assured, the clearing near the ‘Monument’ is a place of peace beneath the night sky. As long as you avoid the densest darkness of the forest, you won’t be affected by the shadow forces. This is the greatest hospitality the Violet Kingdom can offer its guests—limited, but sincere. Please understand.”

With that, the beautiful woman stepped back quietly into the magical illusion. Her figure gradually faded until only scattered glimmers remained in the air.

A cold night breeze swept across the forest clearing. Maggie took a deep breath, letting the chill clear her mind, then turned to Modril. “Are you sure you want to go to the City of a Thousand Towers as they suggested? Our original goal was to explore the core of the Violet Kingdom, but now we’ve twice encountered mysterious figures and received invitations to the same place… I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.”

“I’m definitely going,” Modril said calmly. “I’ve accepted the invitation. Honestly, there’s nothing unusual about it. Or rather, on this shadow-covered Violet Isle, there are far more unsettling things than this. Besides, since the invitation comes from Lady Night, an ancient god, if she wanted to harm us, she wouldn’t need such complicated methods. I’m inclined to think she wants to communicate something, but is constrained and must use indirect means.”

“If that’s your judgment, then I accept it,” Maggie nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “But there’s one thing I still don’t understand.”

Modril raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Morningstar and Benadetto each brought an invitation, both from Lady Night, both pointing to the City of a Thousand Towers, both addressed to us. The only difference is the intended recipients,” Maggie pondered aloud. “Do you think both invitations came from Lady Night? If so… why send two different ‘messengers’? Wouldn’t it be simpler to have Morningstar or Benadetto deliver the entire message?”

Listening to Maggie’s analysis, Modril rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You have a point… If it’s all from Lady Night, one messenger should suffice. Yet she sent two, and one of them spoke to you with all those cryptic hints…”

The old mage fell into thought. As a learned spellcaster well-versed in mystery and symbolism, he soon formed a theory. “There must be a deeper meaning. As an ancient god, Lady Night’s words are more than mere words—they likely represent interference or correction of specific events. Morningstar’s invitation, directed at King Gawain and Miss Amber, feels like an intentional attempt to establish some kind of connection.”

“Establish a connection?” Maggie frowned, struggling to keep up. “What kind of connection?”

“That silver-haired girl claims to be an intelligence agent and even calls Amber ‘Director,’ but you said the intelligence agency doesn’t have a shadow affairs division, nor agents with such obvious traits,” Modril said casually. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd? There’s no reason to lie about that…”

Maggie lowered her head, deep in thought. Modril waved his hand. “Don’t dwell on it too much now. I’m just speculating. I can barely keep track of my own secrets. But one thing’s clear: Lady Night is trying every way she can to send messages into the real world. People like Amber and me, who have a ‘connection’ to her, are the best channels. I don’t know why the King is involved, but whatever Lady Night is doing must be urgent—there’s no time to waste.”

“So, the best course is to report everything truthfully and let the King decide.”

As the night deepened, Maggie met the old adventurer’s gaze and slowly nodded.

…

Night had fallen fully. Towering spires rose silently into the endless darkness, a river of stars stretching across the sky. Their light bathed the tower tips, the weathered stone walls, the deep purple pinnacles, and the countless houses clustered around—buildings that seemed to have slumbered in darkness for centuries.

At the top of the tallest tower, the “Eye of Night,” once able to oversee the entire kingdom, lay extinguished. Only its massive black base remained, bathed in starlight. The cold wind swept through the railings and pillars, carrying low, mournful howls into the night. Around the tower, the once-thriving city stood empty. The classical architecture and countless towers, stacked in seemingly impossible ways, loomed like ghosts in the dark, their twisted lines and mottled spires stretching beneath the stars.

This was the royal capital of Violet—the ancient City of a Thousand Towers. It had once been a magnificent and prosperous dream, carrying countless years of memories and the lives of its people. It had been home to learned scholars, brilliant artists, glorious literature, and the melodies and songs that flowed through its streets. Generations of seekers from the outside world had spent brief times here, glimpsing fragments of truth on a violet-hued dreamscape.

Until that splendid dream came to an end.

Now, the city’s inhabitants had departed—they had awakened from the dream of the real world and returned to their true “homes,” just as one awakens from a dream at dawn, the mind no longer intertwined with that dream.

Yet the dream’s creator was a powerful, ancient “god.” For this extraordinary dream world, the departure of its “residents” was not the end. The City of a Thousand Towers still stood quietly where it had for countless ages. As Benadetto said, as long as the Lord of Night remains, the city will endure forever.

Beneath the night sky, a figure slowly climbed to the tower’s highest point. Cloaked in black robes, holding a lantern emitting pale light, he moved deliberately to the platform where the Eye of Night once rested. He looked up at the rune-framed, hollow pillars that seemed emptier in the darkness.

A cold wind from afar suddenly lifted his hood. As it fell back, it revealed an unnaturally pale face—black hair, dark eyes, tall and slender. The distant starlight haloed him, some of its glow passing through his form, making him appear like a translucent ghost.

After standing beneath the Eye of Night for a long moment, the figure stepped forward. He hung the pale lantern on a nearby pillar, then waved toward a brazier in the clearing below. Dark red magic struck the oil within, igniting roaring flames that illuminated the area around the Eye.

Watching the flickering firelight, the last ruler of the Violet Kingdom—Prince Nash Nart—smiled faintly and exhaled softly.

Not long after the flames roared to life, the sharp clatter of iron boots striking the ground suddenly echoed nearby. Prince Nash whipped his head around just in time to see an exceptionally tall figure stride out from the shadows, completely encased in heavy armor. The silhouette resembled a brooding knight stepped straight out of a painting, each heavy step seeming to press down directly on one’s heart.

With only a few paces between them, the armored “brooding knight” abruptly drew a long sword from his waist and swung it down without hesitation.

Prince Nash merely raised an eyebrow and casually flicked his hand forward. A faint, almost illusory shadow—like a phantom whip—swept from his palm, striking the armored figure squarely at the waist. The knight was sent flying sideways, accompanied by a harsh screech and a violent crash. The armor clattered to the ground, empty and hollow inside.

“Bernadette, this isn’t funny at all,” Prince Nash said with a sigh, glancing toward the nearby brazier. “Especially since you’re using my favorite collection pieces for this.”

The flames in the brazier flickered twice, and Bernadette’s slightly distorted figure leapt out, arms crossed as she looked at Prince Nash. “Oh, come on. Every set of armor here is your ‘favorite collection,’ and last time I found two old burlap sacks in the storage, you called those your collection too—yet you never seemed to mind when I knocked them over. Besides, I’m just trying to liven up this gloomy palace a bit.”

“You call it ‘livening up’ when a bunch of empty armor and unmanned tools run wild all over the tower?” Prince Nash rolled his eyes. “And then you pretend the magic’s gone haywire and swing a giant sword at my head?”

“Magic surprises are supposed to be unpredictable,” Bernadette said matter-of-factly. “If it’s not out of control, then what kind of mage would I be?”

“…I really ought to check who wrote your main personality,” Prince Nash glared at Bernadette’s flame-formed figure, then sighed. “But then again, that writer has ‘returned’ by now, so they probably wouldn’t mind me bothering them… Never mind. Enough about that. Have you made contact with those visitors yet?”

“Yes, smoothly,” Bernadette nodded. “They didn’t immediately pull out knives or swords to attack me, nor did they blow up the Node Monument right away. The earlier intelligence claiming the Cecilians would instantly detonate explosives at the slightest provocation was definitely an exaggeration. I’ve already conveyed the will of the Night Sovereign to them. They—especially that great adventurer—have gladly accepted the invitation.”

“They accepted?” Prince Nash nodded. “Good. Looks like your judgment was right after all…”

“The lady knows that adventurer far better than we clumsy folk blinded by the Reverse Tide’s power,” Bernadette said bluntly. “But you—are you really not planning to return?”

(End of chapter)