Chapter 35 - Chapter 35: Chapter 34 Inviting the Lord of the Lost (1/2)
Chapter 35: Chapter 34 Inviting the Lord of the Lost
The members of the Fischer family pressed on through the jungle, each deeply questioning in their hearts the most important matter.
Can we survive?
Byrne’s body trembled slightly, feeling extremely tense, not only for himself but also because his father had not returned.
The great Lord of the Lost conveyed His will, devoid of sadness or joy, as if it were destined.
He said, the father had led away a portion of the enemies.
Byrne had never felt so tense while fighting alongside his father or when facing danger alone; yet now, deep within, he was consumed by fear and worry.
He won’t die, he definitely won’t. That old man will always find a way to survive until the end, hasn’t it always been like that?
Byrne shuddered, the fear within growing ever more immense and unshakable.
The group strained to stealthily make their way out of the jungle, hoping to avoid detection by the Cyart people. Finally, they emerged from the woods to find themselves on a vast expanse of snow.
The snowfield reflected the sunlight, like a pristine stairway to heaven, and there was no sign of the Cyart people around. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.
Have we survived?
However, they soon saw quivering shadows in the distance.
Everyone’s face turned pale, Cyart cavalry was approaching, and they instinctively wanted to run back into the jungle.
Irene shook her head, saying, “No, there are more Cyarts behind us. We have no chance to go back now, no matter what.”
As the situation became desperate, the group prepared to fight to the death.
Among the remaining seventy or so people, only thirteen guards were capable of combat, and even including Irene and Byrne, there were only fifteen people who could be considered fighters.
The approaching cavalry numbered over fifty, with the black armored knight leading them riding a pitch-black warhorse with magic beast lineage, undoubtedly very powerful.
The people almost succumbed to the deepest despair, crying, screaming, and wailing, as the battle was lost from the start, without even the need for a token resistance.
“Is everything going to end here?”
As she watched the cavalry coming closer across the snowfield, Irene knelt down, taking a deep breath of the bitterly cold air.
No, it won’t end.
She closed her eyes, as if she was transported back to over five years ago.
Back then, Irene was as helpless as she was now, facing sudden malice and about to share the most terrible fate with her loved ones, where a single misstep could lead to an unmarked grave.
Yes, everything was so similar!
A look of nostalgia and devotion appeared on Irene’s face.
But there was also a difference, for she was no longer as fearful as before, and she would not pray to the so-called gods!
Whether Cyart or Rhea people, both worshipped their gods. Why then do they still slaughter each other? What else would those high and mighty deities do besides watch indifferently?
The transparent sacred object was wrapped in cloth in her arms, sheltering the great existence that could bring an end to all things and protect the Fischer family as they moved forward.
Irene had long understood that only by praying to Him could she reach the destiny the Fischer family hoped for.
The Cyart cavalry drew ever closer, finally coming to a slow halt just tens of meters in front of them.
The slaughter did not begin immediately. Baron Bourette Meyer, the leader and the black armored knight spurred his black warhorse, stirring up small sparks of electricity in the snow.
He approached alone to within a dozen meters of the group and said in an eerily calm voice, “Grasping at what should not be obtained is the shortcut to death for the weak.”