Chapter 266: The Blade Ignited

Andersa Wendell watched the infiltration troops returning from the Dark Mountains, her brow tightly furrowed.

The mission to penetrate the Dark Mountains had failed. Although Andersa had considered the possibility of failure from the start, she hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly—nor that the formidable elven ranger wouldn’t return.

According to the intelligence brought back by the retreating soldiers, the first half of the infiltration went surprisingly smoothly. They had easily bypassed the “Dark Mountain Pass” along the eastern Ansu border. But as they neared the legendary frontier territory in the southeast, everything took a sharp turn for the worse. One squad suddenly lost contact. Subsequent clues confirmed they had been ambushed and wiped out by Ansu forces. Then, when the main team led by Solderin went to investigate, they too vanished without a trace.

No messages were sent back—not even a single magic communication worm was released. Such silence only came from a sudden, devastating strike.

The other squads quickly withdrew, not lingering even fifteen minutes.

Their decision was sound. If Solderin’s main force could be annihilated in an instant, the weaker squads had no chance continuing the mission. Retreating preserved some living strength and allowed them to bring back the intelligence they had gathered. But this did nothing to ease the young wolf general’s mood. In fact, confirming the existence and threat of that frontier territory only made her feel worse.

That land was real. And judging by its strength, Gawain Cecil was real too—even if not a true ancient hero, he was at least a powerful figure cultivated by Ansu, comparable to a third-tier duke. What had once seemed the weakest link in Ansu’s border defenses had now become a thorny problem. The decaying, sluggish Ansu royal family was not as feeble as initially thought—they had recognized the critical vulnerability in their homeland’s defenses and had already begun to address it.

And all this happened just before Typhon’s official assault.

Andersa sent the soldiers to rest and sat at her desk, spreading out a massive map before her.

Based on the hard-won intelligence from the infiltration team, she roughly pinpointed the frontier territory’s location—near the lower reaches of the Whitewater River, close to the eastern extension of the Dark Mountains. It nestled against the mountains, with a river in front and vast open plains and dense forests on either side. It was indeed a fine piece of land. Gawain Cecil’s choice of territory was no mistake.

To Andersa, this mysterious frontier was like a bottomless abyss. She knew it was there, yet she couldn’t probe what lay within. The usually competitive and ambitious wolf general felt deeply unsettled. But as the capable heir of the Wendell family, she quickly suppressed her youthful restlessness. She exhaled softly, picked up pen and paper, and began drafting a letter:

“Report from Winterwolf Fortress… The Dark Mountain Pass indeed has a weak point, allowing bypass of the eastern Ansu defenses… The Cecil frontier territory exists and likely has strong military deployment, but details remain unknown… The rest of the defense line is stable, with no further activity from Ansu recently…”

Suddenly, a commotion outside interrupted her writing. Andersa frowned and looked up sharply. “What’s going on out there?”

The heavy wooden door swung open, and a trusted guard hurried in. “Commander! Strange things are approaching the plains before the fortress!”

“Strange things?” Andersa frowned at the vague description. “Be more specific.”

“Uh… they look like giant humanoid monsters! Coming from the Dark Mountains!”

The deep tolling of the bell rang out, mingled with sharp horns and the shouted commands of officers. Winterwolf Fortress responded swiftly and correctly—its gates slammed shut, soldiers rushed to the walls to prepare defenses, boiling oil and heavy rolling logs were brought to the battlements. On the vast snowy plain before the walls, ominous red clouds began to gather in clusters.

Andersa climbed the battlements. With the keen eyes of a seasoned knight, she made out the shapes of the creatures on the plain. For the first time, the youngest female commander in Winterwolf’s history showed genuine shock. “What… are those things?!”

Massive blood-red humanoid figures swayed across the plain. Like giants from ancient myths, their size dwarfed humans, but they lacked any human facial features or limb details. Their bodies seemed to writhe and flow like blood-colored sludge. Their faceless heads were so terrifying that even Andersa felt her scalp crawl as a horde of these giants advanced toward the fortress.

They were the most blasphemous, twisted, and horrifying nightmares made flesh—and they stood right here, before Winterwolf Fortress!

“Quick! Bring the ballistae up! These monsters are too large for anything but siege weapons!” Andersa shouted. “You two, go summon the mages—get them to the battle mage tower!”

As Andersa rapidly organized the defenses, the giant humanoids on the plain suddenly accelerated. It was as if they had finally “sensed” the presence of living beings and magic. Instantly, their sluggish wandering turned into frenzied excitement. The terrifying creatures roared silently, lowering their heads in a reckless charge toward Winterwolf Fortress. Some of the spellcasting monsters raised their arms high, unleashing bolts of chaotic energy glowing with ominous black and red light. The arrows screamed sharply through the air, tracing long arcs before striking the fortress’s sturdy walls.

The solid stone bricks began to crumble and erode as if they were fragile sand under the corrosive effect of the strange energy!

Even where the energy bolts didn’t hit directly, the walls showed clear signs of weakening.

Andersa immediately noticed the corrosive effect of the chaotic energy arrows and grasped their danger. Though Winterwolf’s walls were thick enough to withstand serious damage for now, the energy was altering the stone’s properties, gradually undermining the fortress’s overall strength.

“Stop them!” Andersa drew her longsword and slashed fiercely, sending out a silver-white shockwave that struck down the lead spellcaster. “Don’t let them near the walls!”

A chaotic and eerie battle erupted before Winterwolf Fortress.

Meanwhile, in the newly built armory of the Cecil territory, Byron solemnly presented a uniquely designed, exquisitely crafted one-handed sword to Gawain.

“My lord, the first prototype of the Melting Blade has passed testing.”

Gawain examined the weapon, which embodied the tireless efforts of technicians and smiths, and a growing joy filled his heart.

It was a beautiful weapon—both elegant and deadly. Its overall tone was deep and dark, almost black, with the blade and hilt reflecting the precise aesthetics of industrial craftsmanship. The sword was single-edged, resembling a hybrid between a warblade and a cleaver. Its spine was straight and sturdy, adorned with runic arrays for heat dissipation and reinforcement. The blade curved slightly near the tip, glowing with a deep blue hue. The hilt was thicker and more complex than a typical one-handed sword. Inside the guard was a subtle trigger mechanism, carefully designed so as not to interfere with swordplay. Next to the trigger was a toggle safety to prevent accidental activation during transport.

Gawain took up the Melting Blade and swung it casually twice. The sword felt slightly light for him but was remarkably balanced and easy to wield. It was clear the designers had taken Byron’s advice seriously.

“I reduced some weight from the blade and adjusted the balance,” Byron explained. “A lighter sword saves soldiers’ stamina. Since the Melting Blade relies on a superheated edge to cut rather than brute force like ordinary swords, the weight reduction doesn’t reduce its lethality.”

Gawain nodded and activated the high-temperature blade.

With a faint click from the hilt, energy stored in the magical capacitor flowed into heating runes embedded in the blade. Originally designed for magical traps, the scorching runes ignited, turning the blade’s pale purple steel a fiery red within seconds. It glowed like a solidified flame of molten gold and crimson.

The heat didn’t radiate outward much, so standing near the blade only felt mildly warm. Gawain pressed the blade against a test iron plate nearby, effortlessly slicing it in two—like cutting through a firm slab of butter.

Without a gauntlet, he carefully felt the hilt’s temperature and asked the mage technician beside him, “How did you solve the heat insulation and stability issues?”

“My lord, the purple steel blade and the sword body aren’t a single piece. We added a heat-insulating layer made of quartz sand and crystal dust between them, connected by purple steel rivets running through the spine. The rivets still conduct some heat, so we surrounded them with high-temperature resistant runes and added heat-dissipating structures along the spine. This way, the heat is quickly channeled away, protecting both the sword and the wielder.”

“Does this reduce the blade’s strength?”

“A little, but purple steel is already a very strong and stable magical material. Plus, our refined steel is tougher than traditional iron. So the sword’s strength remains sufficient—and most of the time, it doesn’t need to rely on brute force.”

Byron added, “Of course, if the energy runs out or in unavoidable situations, soldiers can still fight with it as a normal sword. The purple steel blade is sharp enough for close combat.”

“Excellent,” Gawain said, lightly swinging the Melting Blade. The blazing hot edge left a dazzling trail in the air. “Our territory’s security just got a lot stronger.”

(End of chapter)