Chapter 662 513 Son of Mencius (Part 1)

The journey from Lothern back to the Kingdom of Caledor was a difficult one. In order to continue on the steep mountain road, the team had to move forward carefully. Even so, some horses were injured and the squires were forced to stay behind, but as the Dragon Prince, Rashil Morwen had no intention of caring about these.

He was still burning with anger, and the shame in his heart was tormenting him more and more as he got farther and farther away from Lothern. He hardly noticed the surrounding scenery, those abrupt mountains, and the vegetation-covered mountains leaning towards the shining dream sea. He didn't speak to the squires, and the squires didn't dare to speak to him.

The contradictions in his heart were fighting fiercely, and the deep sense of shame gnawed at his heart. The meeting was not glorious at all, and it crushed the only pride left in his heart. On the other hand, the emotion of revenge troubled him. He was humiliated, and this required a response. He also tried to let himself let go, but he couldn't let go. Every step away from Lothern, his emotions became stronger.

"Why do I feel this way? Why now?"

"Something is changing, something is awakening."

Still immersed in his own thoughts, Lasir stopped, stopped in front of the stone gate that only served a decorative purpose. This was the dividing line between the weak Kingdom of Itain and the rugged Kingdom of Caledor. To his left, the huge mountain of the crater rose from the ground, bending to the northwest, shining with snow. To his right, the terrain fell steeply layer by layer until it reached the narrow coastline below. Ahead, the road passed the top of the ridge, and the land of Caledor looked particularly gloomy under the sun.

Five days further ahead, the broken spire of Tal Morwen on the side of Mount Karel overlooked the dry valley while waiting for his return. That was his home, full of wealth, but that was the past, the past. After the death of his father Menthus, the home had less than half of its residents, so embarrassed that it could not even repair the spire.

In his homeland, there was his mother. As long as he could remember, his mother had always been at the top of the spire, pale and proud.

Even from a hundred miles away, he could see his mother's tense face, her gray hair combed back into a knot, and her eagle-like expectation, eager to hear the good news he brought back. His mother was always there, pacing back and forth in the room of the spire, her hands clenched, her thin lips tightly closed because of the upcoming judgment.

Hval rode his horse side by side to Lasir, and the two were silent for a long time, and neither of them planned to say the first word.

"My lord, we can think of other ways. You still have support in the Kingdom of Caledor, your father..." After a long time, Hval finally spoke, and he lowered his voice to prevent the surrounding followers from hearing. Among the 19 followers, only he, as the captain, knew what Lasir had experienced in Lothern.

(No money was borrowed...)

"Caldor." Rahil shook his head bitterly. The name already disgusted him. He repeated, "Caldor has nothing left, nothing left."

"We have become weak, Haval! We! We were once kings! Now even those merchants dare to stop us!" Rahil turned to his captain and cast a contemptuous look. Then, his emotions got out of control at that moment. He roared and shouted.

"Maybe so, but we can still think of other ways." Haval understood Rahil. He didn't react to Rahil's roar. He responded and comforted him calmly.

Rahil wanted to respond, but he stopped. There was a strange smell in the air. The wind blowing from the top of the mountain was sharper than it should be, the sun was stronger, and even the rocks under his feet seemed to vibrate in a low, almost imperceptible rhythm.

Everything was more vivid, the outlines were clearer, and more real.

"You're right. We can think of other ways. One door closes and the other opens." Rahil looked thoughtful, staring at the stone and the sky. After a moment, he agreed.

"I don't..." Haval looked at Rahil doubtfully. His previous words were just comfort. To be honest, he couldn't think of any other way. He didn't think the families in the Kingdom of Caledor would be affected.

"That was many years ago..." Rahil stopped talking halfway.

"My lord, you speak like a riddle."

Rahil didn't respond to Haval. He looked up at the mountains in the distance. The clouds floated down from the shoulders of the mountains, bursting with dazzling white. It was the light of magic. It had been like this for thousands of years. It was the home of powerful and elegant creatures. He stared at the mountains for a long time, with new thoughts in his mind and a stern expression on his face.

"We're not going home!" After another moment, he made a decision.

Behind him, the accompanying entourage had lined up on the road, and their mounts, the bad-tempered Caledor war horses, were stamping and neighing.

"Sir, we are here. We must either continue on or return to Lothern." Haval was a little worried. He didn't know what new idea Rahil had come up with. He pointed forward.

"Don't you feel it, Haval? Don't you feel the change? There is a force flowing through these mountains, like blood flowing through veins. This madness has a source. It has infected all of us. We must find it." Rahil shook his head.

Haval showed a confused expression. He didn't know what Rahil was talking about.

Rahil ignored Haval. He knew that Haval was an excellent warrior and capable advisor, but not a wizard. After being washed by the wind of magic, there was almost no trace left. But he was different. He was the son of Mencius. His family had a long tradition. He also received ancient training. The change in the balance of the world was obvious to him. The wind of magic became stronger. He could feel that the wind of magic was still growing stronger.

One door closed and another door opened.

"I have danced to the wrong melody for too long. I should have taken other paths."

"I don't understand."

"You will understand. When this is over, you will understand." Rahil smiled, his eyes sparkling like gems. For the first time since leaving Lothern, he was full of confidence.

——

High in the crater, the wind picked up, bringing waves of sleet, gray and biting.

Haval climbed the steep slope with difficulty, letting the warhorse find its own way. The snow melted into water and flowed down the smooth curve of his helmet and dripped into the gaps in his armor. He shuddered and looked back. The other followers lowered their heads, looked at their feet, turned their backs to the cold rain, and moved slowly forward like him, forming a long irregular line on the slope.

He knew that the followers could not see the meaning and value of crossing the mountains, and he understood this because he could not see any meaning either. In the past few days, Rachel's mood has been changing rapidly, from extreme despair to reckless optimism. Optimism is dangerous and despair is terrible.

Perhaps Rachel's mind has collapsed. He served the Morwen family when Rachel was a child, and he has been watching the changes in the Morwen family for many years. He understands Rachel. The witch's oppression of Rachel may have destroyed Rachel long ago.

The witch has always been eager to restore the honor of the family and restore the Morwen family to the strength when Mencius was still alive. For this reason, the witch forced Rachel to do things that Rachel did not like to do, and even to do things that were beyond Rachel's ability.

He knew that in order to please the witch, Lahill chose to study in the White Tower of Hos and immersed himself in the knowledge of fire. In order to thoroughly master this skill, Lahill almost gave up everything.

He knew that Lahill spent most of the remaining wealth of the family on making friends, entertaining and bribing princes, and a small part on training warriors. The investment in home construction was zero, causing the wealth of the Mowen family to be insufficient.

This also caused Lahill to be forced to borrow money from the Emerald Sea Family for the third time. The head of the Emerald Sea family took the initiative to give up the interest on the first two loans and extended the loan period, but rejected the proposal for the third loan.

He suggested more than once to dissuade Lahill from spending money on communicating with those princes. In his opinion, this is meaningless, and we should develop ourselves and strengthen our home. Only when we are strong can we communicate with those princes. Instead of now, those princes would maintain a relationship with Lahill for the sake of Mencius, but now...

He knew that Lahill didn't want to do something. When he was in the White Tower of Hos, Lahill preferred to stay in the room and read various books written by Mencius on military tactics and the art of war. However, more than once, the witch seemed to be lying on Rahil's back thousands of miles away and could see what Rahil was doing, and kept writing letters to remind Rahil of Mencius' great deeds.

The water flowing on his skin woke Haval up. After looking at his feet, he came to Rahil's side regardless of the rain seeping through the gaps in his armor. Rahil still moved forward firmly, his shoulders tightened against the weather, his head lowered.

"Magic!" Rahil suddenly stopped and looked straight ahead with a bright look.

"What?"

"I should believe in magic, I was wrong, I shouldn't give up my father's skills." Rahil's expression was elusive, mixed with determination and despair, as if these two emotions were fighting in his heart, and his tone was bitter.

"Maybe..." Haval tried to find the right words to respond.

"I was destined to be a warrior, a commander. I should have mastered these mysteries, not danced to the laughter of those princes. They should have submitted to me and obeyed me!"

Havaer chose not to speak anymore. He was not even sure if Rahil was really talking to him. He could feel the contradiction in Rahil's words.

"Now! I can feel it. I can feel the power of the world surging. A storm is coming. It will ignite the sleeping flame of Ulthuan. It will give me the strength to do what I need to do. It will give me the strength to do what I should have done many years ago."

Havaer's eyes became alert. In his opinion, Rahil was completely crazy.

"What is that, my lord? I need to tell them. They... still don't know what we are doing."

"This is the Dragon Spine Mountains. The glory of Caledor lies in the dragons!" Rahil looked directly at Havaer, his eyes flashing with determination.

"They will not wake up. Their time has passed." Havaer denied.

"No! They will wake up. Deathfang of Asarnil and Minathnir of Imrik are examples. The dragons are awakening. Also, can't you feel the magic burning?" Lasir laughed, and his expression was so strong that it made Havar feel uneasy.

"If that's the case, other creatures will be attracted too."

"What are you afraid of?" Lasir looked at Havar with contempt.

As if in response to his question, a roar echoed from the cliff ahead. The horses stopped their difficult movement, stamped their feet and raised their hooves anxiously, and the warriors became alert, drawing their weapons and forming a formation with their companions around them.

Haval felt a fear pierce his heart. The roar was low and guttural, coming from the stone, as if it came from more than one mouth, like the sound of a bell. He smelled the breath of death in the air, floating down from the heights and polluting the breeze. He drew his weapon and gripped the hilt tightly.

"Everything, everything here." He responded in a voice so weak that it was Rahil.

The behemoth rushed out of its hiding place, and fear followed.

The monster was huge, clumsily and laboriously flapping its bat-like wings into the air, its gray and mottled body like rotting meat, its heavy torso covered with spikes and tufts of coarse hair, covered with black veins and constantly changing patterns. The huge limbs were waving in the air, each claw was as big as an Asur's chest, and the long and winding tail was swinging behind it, exuding endless malice.

"Chimera!" The shout of a squire intensified the panic in the air.

The squires knew how terrible the Chimera was, and how little chance they had of winning. Their faces turned pale, and their hands holding weapons became unstable, but fortunately they did not abandon Rahil and turn around and run.

"Warriors of Caledor! Do not fear the darkness! Remember your oath!" Rahil waved his sword, trying to get rid of the sudden fear in his heart. He shouted loudly, ready to meet the challenge.

The squires responded, they abandoned the war horses that had become uncontrollable, raised their shields, and moved forward with their swords. At this time, the Chimera also came down and smashed into the team.

Rahil gritted his teeth, overcame his inner fear and charged with the squires. When the monster fell down, he controlled his body and did not get knocked down. At the same time, he swung his sword directly at the monster's hairy neck. When the monster's wings flapped again, bringing a disgusting stench, he did not retreat, but rushed straight into the monster's huge mouth.

Beside him, a squire was hit by the monster's front legs and flew away, and another squire was hit by the tail. One of the monster's three heads turned around, and its huge jaws bit the helmet of a squire, and its fangs penetrated the armor and tore the flesh underneath, swallowing the squire's screams.

The fear subsided, replaced by uncontrollable anger. These squires were carefully cultivated by him with his remaining few wealth. Now, just a face-to-face, he lost three. He roared and aimed the blade at the bottom of the central head. In his anger, he didn't even see the chimera's claws swinging at him. The claws were as fast as lightning and hit him from the left side, hitting his left shoulder.

He flew directly out and hit the rock wall heavily. In the impact, his head tilted back and the sword fell from his hand.

For a moment, the world became confused and chaotic.

The sounds on the battlefield were mixed together, the clash of swords, the sound of rain, the shouts of warriors, and the roar of Chimera intertwined into a chaotic movement.

Through his blurred vision, he saw Chimera step on the body of one of his followers, crushing the follower's body carelessly, and the follower's body was flattened like a rag bag, bloody and mangled, and then turned to fight the followers who were rushing in.

Chimera walked on four legs like a huge white lion, but it could also raise its front legs and swing violently. When it did so, huge wings spread above it, fanning the stench of death, causing the followers to retch and choke. Each of its swings carried deadly power, and the warriors seemed so small in front of it.

In such a narrow terrain, without the support of long-range heavy firepower, it was the king, and it repelled the attacks of the Asur again and again, crushing any attempt of the Asur to get close. Its claws cut through the air, bringing a sharp sound of breaking through the air, and each attack was accurate and deadly.

The arrows fired by Havar and the other two followers were useless. The rain made the arrows soft and powerless. The arrows lost their power when flying in the air, and when they hit the skin of the chimera, it was like hitting a stone. And with every huge claw strike or tail flick, a follower fell. Its tail was like a steel whip, sweeping through the followers' bodies and taking their lives. Each strike was carried with great force, and the followers were helpless in front of it.

Rahil staggered to his feet, shaking his head to try to wake himself up. When he picked up the sword, he saw the monster biting one of his followers with its jaws, while its front claws tore the chest of another follower. The follower's body was torn apart, and blood gushed out, staining the ground red. The open jaws of the middle head of the chimera spewed out a column of blazing flames, engulfing the follower directly in front. The heat wave of the flame rushed in front of him, burning everything, and the blazing flames engulfed the follower.

Thanks to the protection of the armor, the squire did not fall down immediately. He grabbed his burning eyes with both hands and rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames like fuel. He screamed in pain, and his voice was particularly shrill on the battlefield. His armor became hot in the flames, but it could not completely block the burning pain.

Despite this, the remaining squire did not flee. They continued to rush towards the monster on foot, trying to pierce the side of the monster with swords and spears. The other two squires, led by Havar, kept adjusting their angles, trying to find a better angle to shoot the monster's thick skin or its weak points that had no movement rules.

It was useless.

Rahil knew clearly that he had read the military tactics compiled by his father, which mentioned that the best way to deal with such monsters was to use ballistae. The attack of the followers was doomed to fail, and the chimera was slaughtering them in batches. The ground under the feet of the chimera was soaked with blood, and the heavy claws crushed the fallen bodies into the gravel.

They were all going to die.

Rahil knew that he had failed, completely failed. Nothing could save him from this failure, and there was no possibility of returning to Caledor.

A deep darkness enveloped him, he clenched his fists and shouted angrily, and fear left him again and was replaced by a terrible, savage anger. His body trembled, he had never felt such primitive anger and frustration. It was as if the magic wind, the strong airflow he had felt for a long time, had penetrated into his soul and filled it with painful frenzy.

He took a step and walked towards the monster. He dropped the sword in his hand and felt the power in his palm, the kind of power he had never felt since learning to master the wind of Aksha in the White Tower of Hoth.

The power continued to fill him, and for the first time he felt how powerful he was.

"Monster!" he roared. (End of this chapter)