Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 455 - 454: Tomb of the Wilder Ancestors

The black-haired maid heard the mistress’s words and widened her eyes with some surprise: ”The tomb of the Cecil Clan? But the Holy Spirit Festival has already...”

”It’s not for ancestor worship,” Victoria sighed, ”Go prepare, Maji.”

Maji quietly glanced at her mistress without further inquiry, then slightly bowed her head: ”Yes, I understand.”

Just as Gawain Cecil was finally laid to rest beneath the southern borders Cecil Ancient Castle, the tombs of the Anzu Four Territories Founding Duke were ultimately established on the lands they protected. The resting place of Snow Wielder, the ”Winter Duke” who protected the northern mountains, was located beneath this Bitter Winter Castle at the peak of the northern mountain range.

Through the lowest cellar of Bitter Winter Castle, past the deepest and most solemn black corridors, lies the oldest and most dignified burial area of the castle. The Wilder Clan, over many generations, built their magnificent fortress atop the mountain, and almost half of the manpower and materials used were devoted to maintaining this tomb deeply embedded in the mountain itself.

Unlike Gawain Cecil, who had once been favored by Elemental Force, the tomb beneath Bitter Winter Castle was entirely solidified over seven centuries by generations of powerful human Mages infusing it with earth Elementals’ blessing, thus preserving it intact.

Victoria Wilder, accompanied by her maid Maji, entered the underground ruins without any additional entourage.

The Magic crystal lamps embedded in the walls were infused with magic power, emitting a dim and steady glow: so as not to disturb the ancestors, the magic crystals within the tomb are specially designed to be only about half as bright as ordinary Magic crystal lamps. Under such slightly dim lighting, the descending slope of the underground ruins extended into the obscure depths of darkness ahead within the Duchess’s view, appearing shadowy and intimidating.

Yet Victoria was unconcerned by this dimness, stepping forward with confidence.

The walls constructed of spirit subduing bricks receded beside her, the solid stone steps echoed hollowly against her boots, resonating throughout the oldest corridor of this entire fortress. Victoria felt as though she were walking against the current of time, returning to the past with each hundred meters traversed: through the Fog Month turmoil, through Anzu’s last period of prosperity, through the dynastic reform, through the years of plenty, and finally... reaching seven hundred years ago, arriving at the original starting point of this kingdom and her clan.

The rectangular main hall of the tomb was reached, and Maji silently approached the stone pillar beside the hall entrance, pressing her hand on a metal disc on the surface of the pillar. As magic power was infused within, the Magic crystal lamps embedded throughout the hall began to light up one by one, casting a layer of light sufficient for visibility over what was originally a darkened hall.

The portraits of the Wilder Clan’s successive heads hung on the walls on either side of the hall, from the first ”Winter Duke Snow Wielder” to Victoria’s father, each bearing the same silver hair and stern face, their eyes slightly lowered as if solemnly observing visitors entering the hall. Victoria Wilder calmly embraced the gaze of these pairs of eyes, her own sight falling upon the line of ancient words inscribed on the wall:

”We are the last barrier of Anzu”

Victoria’s gaze slowly swept across the faces of the ancestors before finally settling on her father’s image. Her eyes lingered on this venerable old Duke for a long time, then she softly spoke: ”Father, it is indeed as you predicted, the hidden danger of the Second Dynasty has finally erupted... but you probably couldn’t have foreseen the greatest variable in this chaotic wave...”

After a brief moment of silence, the Duchess raised her head and instructed her maid beside her: ”You may leave now, I need to be alone.”

The black-haired maid silently exited the hall, while Victoria Wilder stepped forward.

She approached the stone platform at the end of the hall—this platform stood about half a person’s height, resembling a broad table, with esoteric magic symbols and patterns engraved around its perimeter, yet the platform’s surface was smooth like a mirror, devoid of any decorative marks.

After hesitating for a moment, the Duchess placed her hand on the platform, softly reciting an ancient incantation.

The magic power in the air began to stir, the symbols around the platform lit up one by one, and the mirror-like platform surface began to ripple like water. Amid a faint milky white glow, a metal plate approximately one square foot in size, silver-white in color, floated up from the rippling platform surface.

This metal plate was in fact sealed within the densely packed stone blocks.

Victoria picked up the metal plate—it was not heavy and rather thin. At the edge of the metal plate, one could see distinct decorative lines, typical of the Gondor style—she caressed the surface of the metal plate, and words emerged on its surface.

Charlie Moen, guide, leader, protector, founder of the kingdom, whom we honor as King.

Gawain Cecil, Lord of Knights, pioneer, protector, founder of the kingdom, whom we honor as southern guardian.

Snow Wielder, Frost’s Grasp, guardian of knowledge, pioneer, founder of the kingdom, whom we honor as Northern Guard.

Anthony Loren, Master of Warriors...

Even the Northern Duchess, usually aloof and difficult to approach like the Ice Lady, couldn’t help but show a look of reverence upon seeing this metal plate. Her gaze slid over those illustrious names, each one standing like a towering mountain, representing the cornerstone of this kingdom, symbolizing the force that braved the near-destruction of human civilization by natural disaster seven hundred years ago, and also representing... the first foundational law of this country.

This was a list, a register of all the founders at the inception of Anzu, arranged by merit and title, but it was more than just a list.

Victoria turned the metal plate over, and on its back, a passage of text clearly surfaced:

”...In the event of a kingdom-ending catastrophe, or an irreversible man-made calamity leading to the death of the King or incapacitating him from continuing to protect the kingdom, in the absence of a suitable heir, those on this list shall inherit in order and take charge of the kingdom...”

Seven hundred years ago, it was an era fraught with storms.

People living in stable and peaceful times may find it hard to imagine what the scene was like when humanity had just broken through the wastelands and founded a kingdom on a wild land. Even Victoria Wilder could only read about those days from ancient texts or hear fragmented descriptions from the few long-lived races, yet she could not truly understand.

But each time she saw this register, and the words behind it, she could still imagine how precarious the kingdom maintained by the ancestors at the dawn of Anzu was.

The chaotic wave’s aftermath kept assaulting the kingdoms, and until the great walls were completed, monsters emerging from the Gondor wasteland continued their relentless attack on the human world. During the moments when the chaotic wave’s essence was most intense, a large-scale erosion would occur spontaneously in the inner reaches of the Plains of the Holy Spirits. To this day, the inner city district of St. Soniel hosts a section of wall bearing a black, corrupted brick, silently recounting those perilous times.

In that era, the King could die at any moment, the Guardian Duke could die at any moment, everyone could die at any moment.

Thus, there came the list, and behind the list, the ”emergency succession rules.”

But just as no one ever thought that the honorary ”perpetual pioneering rights” would be reactivated someday, it’s likely that those who know of this list never imagined that someone on it might suddenly come back to life...

Victoria Wilder quietly looked at the metal plate in her hand. After a long while, she sighed softly, placing the metal plate solemnly on the stone platform and reversing the spell to seal it again.

After doing all this, she stepped back two steps, away from the stone platform, and turned to look around the entire hall.

The walls on both sides of the hall were lined with many stone doors, behind which were corridors leading to different tomb chambers. One day, she would lie in one of those tomb chambers, and one of her descendants would stand where she was now, also surveying here.

But perhaps pondering different questions.

After standing still for a moment, the duchess seemed to suddenly make a decision. She glanced at the closed main door and sensed from the faint aura that Maji was still guarding outside.

Even if no one was guarding, no one would dare to trespass this place.

Victoria turned around, glanced at the stone platform, and then stepped past it, heading toward the door behind the stone platform.

This door was unique, occupying an entire wall of the hall on its own. Behind it was not a corridor, but a solitary tomb chamber.

In layout, this tomb was indeed no different from that of the tomb of the Cecil Clan.

Accompanied by the creaking sound of magic mechanisms running, the duchess opened the door to the deepest, most peculiar tomb chamber, stepped inside, and lit the magic crystal lamps within.

The lamps illuminated the spacious hall, displaying its furnishings: numerous stone slabs inscribed with esoteric magic symbols, and magic pattern tapestries lined the hall’s perimeter. Other spaces housed bookshelves, planetariums, and miniature mage tower models placed seemingly at random but actually in a deliberate order. At the hall’s very center, a black iron coffin rested silently upon a high platform.

”Ancestor, your descendant has come to visit you.”

Victoria Wilder stated quietly with a solemn expression, then seemed to swallow lightly and stepped toward the iron coffin.

She arrived at the platform, observing the stone slab leaning against the iron coffin, engraved with the last words left by Snow Wielder, the ancestor of the Wilder Clan, to this world:

”My old friends, I’ve outlived you all — how pointless.”

Outsiders might find it hard to imagine that the Wilder ancestor, whose official portraits always bore a frost-like serious expression, would leave such a remark at the end of his life. Victoria was no longer surprised at these words.

She averted her eyes from the stone slab, focusing intently on the dark iron coffin, her face showing a struggle and hesitation.

She hesitated for nearly ten minutes before finally daring to reach out, gently knocking on the coffin lid.

The iron coffin gave no response.

After another moment’s hesitation, she reached out again, tapping lightly on the coffin lid, quickly glancing around.

There was, of course, no one here, so the Northern Duchess took a breath, leaned closer to the iron coffin, ”...Are you here?”

An awkward, unbearable three minutes passed, during which Victoria the Duchess heard only her own breath and heartbeat.

A frosty layer seemed to cover the duchess’s face. She quickly straightened up, stepped back two paces, muttering softly to herself, ”...Damn, what foolishness am I doing...”

She swiftly exited the burial chamber, leaving the hall of the underground ruins. When maid Maji saw her, the Northern Protector had already regained her coldly detached, noble, and composed demeanor.

”Victoria, you were inside for quite a while.”

”To confirm a few things,” Victoria replied lightly, ”Let’s go, Maji, this time, I truly need to return to my room to rest.”

”Alright.”