Chapter 295: Kindred Spirits?

The sudden news completely threw Sordelin (Lin) off balance. His first thought wasn’t just about how the border lockdown would complicate his crossing—it was about the ripple effects this would have on the tense situation between Typhon and Ansu.

Typhon and Ansu were at their coldest point in history. But even at this freezing stage, there was still a thin line between icy peace and all-out war. The two nations hadn’t yet clashed—not just because the timing wasn’t right, but because their highest leaders were still finalizing their preparations and consolidations. Ansu’s internal situation remained uncertain, but on Typhon’s side, the hawks had gained the upper hand. The last remaining obstacles before their visionary emperor were the dwindling anti-war and neutral factions.

Though weakened, the anti-war camp still held some influence, with a few powerful nobles trying to delay the looming conflict. The decisive factor was Grant Duke Ferdinand, who had once been a staunch advocate for war but had gradually shifted toward neutrality in recent years. His stance would determine whether the anti-war faction could continue to stall the war.

Currently stationed at Winterwolf Fortress was “The Wolf General,” Andersa Wendel—Grant Duke Ferdinand Wendel’s granddaughter.

Battle reports from Winterwolf Fortress would be relayed back to the Typhon Empire at lightning speed. Detailed accounts would reach Grant Duke Ferdinand himself. Soon after, news of monster attacks on Ansu’s southern border would follow the same path to Typhon—and vice versa. The Lorren family, stationed on Ansu’s border, would have already received word of the Winterwolf assault. Before long, Francis II of Ansu would see these reports.

Though information traveled slowly and unreliably in this era, those in power had the means to obtain critical intelligence immediately, no matter the cost. So what impact would these reports have?

Any leader with a shred of sense and vigilance would recognize the threat of the Gondor Wastelands.

Seven centuries had indeed made human kingdoms complacent and sluggish. Yet, with the vast Gondor Wastelands sprawling just beyond their borders, with countless histories of the ancient empire’s fall gathering dust in their libraries, and with portraits of heroes who fought the Wasteland’s magical tides hanging on their walls (not to mention one who had risen from the dead after seven centuries), any king or minister not completely lost to folly would immediately grasp the gravity of the news about aberrations spilling out of the Wastelands: a common enemy.

Right now, Sordelin just wanted to know how severe the attack on Winterwolf Fortress had been, and what losses they’d suffered. Adventurers tended to exaggerate, especially when talking to him in his female guise—male adventurers, in particular, were only half trustworthy in their words. Though he didn’t fully understand why, he knew he had to sift through the information carefully.

The aberrations attacking the Cecile territory numbered over three thousand, including large creatures capable of devastating magical bombardments—enough to destroy a small to medium-sized human city. Yet they were all stopped outside Cecile’s southern walls. Cecile’s forces were absurdly powerful, incomparable to regular troops… But how would Winterwolf’s garrison fare against the same number of aberrations?

Moreover, Cecile had specialists trained to fight aberrations, while Winterwolf’s human troops had never faced such foes before. That was another factor to consider.

Sordelin frowned. There was too little information to draw conclusions. But if Winterwolf had indeed suffered heavy losses, it would surely affect the Typhon Empire’s leadership’s appetite for war. Of course, once the war machine was in motion, it wasn’t easy to halt. Still, the anti-war faction might regain crucial influence afterward.

The war might be delayed. And if, during that delay, the aberrations launched another major assault, peace might even become possible.

Sordelin shook his head and took a long gulp of beer. Maybe he was being too optimistic. He always tended to see the best in humans, but after seven centuries of wandering, he’d witnessed too many foolish human blunders. This short-lived species, despite its remarkable creativity and capacity to learn, was maddeningly shortsighted. Visionaries like Gawain Cecile were rare among them. So perhaps the rulers of Typhon and Ansu wouldn’t care about these threats at all—and the war would break out anyway.

Just then, an adventurer’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Beautiful lady, you look troubled—can I help you with something?”

Sordelin mentally noted the adventurer’s attempt at refined manners despite his burly frame. He returned a polite smile. “I want to pass through the checkpoint to Typhon. Can you help me?”

The adventurer’s expression stiffened slightly but he forced himself to ask, “What business do you have crossing the border at a time like this?”

“I’m heading to the elven monitoring station on the Typhon side,” Sordelin said calmly. He wasn’t worried about revealing his destination here. “I haven’t been in touch with my homeland for years—didn’t expect human conflicts to cause such trouble for the elves.”

“Uh… passes are only issued to Typhon citizens, or foreigners and outsiders with guarantors inside Winterwolf,” the adventurer scratched his head. “I have a pass myself, but I can’t vouch for anyone else…”

“Who’s your guarantor?”

“A knight stationed at Winterwolf, but he returned to the rear for rotation a few days ago.”

Sordelin waved his hand dismissively. “Then I don’t need you.”

He knew such passes usually required a guarantor, especially for someone like him, a foreigner. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem—he had plenty of acquaintances in Winterwolf. But now, the last thing he wanted was to deal with “familiar faces” there.

Blocking out the adventurer’s further words, the elven ranger began considering alternatives. The heightened border security was unexpected but not insurmountable for an experienced ranger like him. What truly unsettled him was the news of the attack on East Wolf Fortress.

As for crossing the border, he had plenty of options—sneaking around the blockade with ranger skills, charging straight through the no-man’s land, or finding some local bigwig to forge a fake pass. Even if all else failed…

He could always bite the bullet, ditch the wig, and report to Winterwolf as “Master Delin, the warrior monk.” Honestly, that was his last resort. He’d rather not go down that dark path unless absolutely necessary. If it weren’t for that summer decades ago when cheap glue made his wig fall off… never mind, he didn’t want to think about it.

Lost in painful memories, Sordelin’s troubled expression made him look like a deeply worried elven huntress. His golden hair shimmered dreamily in the firelight, casting a soft shadow over his face—like a perfect painting. The adventurer and a few mercenaries who had been pushed aside immediately tried to approach again, eager to strike up a conversation.

But before they could move, a graceful figure slipped in beside Sordelin.

“Well, sister, looks like you’re in a bit of trouble, huh?”

A clear, pleasant voice startled Sordelin—he hadn’t even noticed someone approaching.

Another Amber?

Warily, he turned to see a female silver elf sitting next to him—an unfamiliar kin, but clearly someone who had also traveled the human world for years.

She had pale golden hair much like his own (damn, it must be real), but was smaller in stature. She wore a thick, warm druid’s tunic, a necklace of oak and jade beads around her neck, and carried a protective short sword and a hardwood staff at her waist. The sword was of human design, so Sordelin guessed she’d also spent a long time among humans.

Young elves fresh from their homelands often struggled with the rough human weapons, but after a few years, they adapted—mostly because they couldn’t find anyone to repair their elven gear.

As Sordelin studied the stranger, she greeted him warmly. “It’s so good to see a fellow elf here. I’m Berna Lightwind, from the Lightwind family of Whitestone City. And you?”

“Sord,” he replied casually, using his alias. “Family names aren’t convenient during trials, by tradition. What can I do for you?”

“Huh? Not me helping you—it’s the other way around,” the lively elf girl laughed. “I overheard you say you’re heading to the monitoring station but worried about getting through the checkpoint, right?”

“That’s right,” Sordelin nodded. “I was out on business elsewhere, and when I came back, the checkpoint was already on lockdown. I didn’t have time to get the proper documents… If I try to find a guarantor now, it’ll take forever.”

“Yeah, the Typhon people are really on edge. It’s like they think the attackers aren’t monsters but humans and elves,” Berna frowned, then smiled. “But don’t worry—I have a pass, and I can bring one person with me. Want to come along?”

“You have a pass? And you can bring someone else?” Sordelin’s brow furrowed. “How did you get it?”

“I came from Typhon on business. The lockdown started just as I arrived, so I got the pass then—it’s easier to get one from the Typhon side than here,” Berna explained. “As for bringing someone else… I originally came with a friend. My pass covers two people, but she had to go to Ansu unexpectedly. She won’t be back before the pass expires. I was ready to go alone, but then I saw a fellow elf struggling with the pass. So, what do you say? Shall we go together?”

(End of chapter)