The warships bustled out of the Hesmir bay, quickly entering the Eldloss Sea. On the largest battleship, Voga stood shoulder to shoulder with Coeur, both of them jointly commanding this campaign. Although there were many conflicts, Voga could not disobey Aster’s orders. He still had a whole family behind him; besides, Voga also had to fight for his country. He could hate Aster, but he could not hate Hesmor.
This time the force totaled fifty thousand soldiers, more than twenty warships and ten transport ships. Although more than half of the army were rabble, there were still over twenty thousand elite soldiers. Voga could not understand why Coeur had to recruit such useless men, only wasting food and transportation costs. But it was not his money anyway, and when the number reached a certain level, it still had its own usefulness.
Before long, the fleet had traveled a long distance. The scenery gradually changed, the deep blue sea turned pitch-black, cold winds blew by carrying the stench of corpses. The soldiers began to see illusions; they saw ghosts flying across the sky, with whispering voices echoing around their ears.
Voga frowned, realizing that the fleet’s direction was wrong. Shouldn’t they avoid the Black Sea?
“Looks like we are going the wrong way! Coeur! Ahead of us is the Black Sea! Quickly send the order to move out of this area!” Voga spoke urgently.
The legend of the Black Sea had haunted the people of Hesmir since ancient times; it was not a place for the living to pass through. Although Voga was strong, he admitted that if he entered that area, there would be only one path "Death". Humans could not defeat the gods.
Coeur, however, was unusually calm, something completely opposite to his cowardly nature. The order had come from him. The fleet was moving exactly as Coeur intended. The legend was true, but not without loopholes. Jacor had told him that there was indeed a way to cross the Black Sea though the price to pay was rather high.
“Calm down, Voga. Our target is the Black Sea itself. We will pass through the Valley of Death and strike straight into Allblack, taking what they call the ‘Black Ask.’ Everything has already been planned. Don’t worry, I’m even more afraid of dying than you are, Voga.”
Coeur greedily thought of the profit of Dark Despair, a weapon that had made Golden rise to power. If he could seize it, not to mention the Medit or Fogger Houses, even all Hesmor would have to bow before him.
“Plan? You’re saying there’s a way to cross the Black Sea?”
Coeur did not answer but simply pointed toward the distance, where a strange, cloaked sorcerer floated in midair.
“That is our plan. He will help us cross the sea.”
Voga was half-believing, half-doubtful. He truly could not figure out anything, only silently watching the coming events. He could only hope that his death, if it came, would be a glorious one in battle, not the death of foolishness.
Valen floated above the sea like a lonely phantom, waiting for something or someone to emerge from the thick mist. Suddenly, the strange sound of dragging iron chains echoed through the silence. A figure slowly stepped out of the fog, halting when he saw Valen. Moments later, he burst into a strange, twisted laughter. His laughter was a horrifying echo that made countless soldiers tremble in fear, pressing their hands tightly over their ears.
“Look, an old friend. Isn’t this the mighty sorcerer Valen himself? Tell me, my dear mage, what brings you to the Black Sea? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind already.”
“Don’t mock me, Kathas. We are not the same. My loyalty can never be shaken. Unlike you, a weakling who leans on a pretender.”
Kathas, the chained Lich, fell silent. He hated being called weak. The air suddenly turned as cold as an ice cavern; the sea froze over, and a powerful Will pressed upon everyone, suffocating them.
“Enough, Kathas. I came here to make a deal. We both know the laws of Vel’Haen. You’re nothing but a prisoner. You should know your place and let the one who truly holds power speak.”
Kathas was taken aback. The laws of Vel’Haen were not something just anyone could know only those who had returned from death could possibly understand them.
“How do you know of that?”
The voice came suddenly from an old ferryman woman. Her decayed black boat drifted lightly over the frozen sea, as if it were not made of matter at all. Her profound gaze pierced through everyone and rested upon a boy sitting calmly in a small corner. The boy smiled politely in return, as though greeting her. The old woman withdrew her gaze, fixing it on Valen. Her voice was cold and soft, yet it echoed clearly in everyone’s ears.
“The law of Vel’Haen is simple: to cross the Black Sea, one soul must be traded for one life.”
Valen nodded slowly, just as his master had said. The rule was indeed simple.
The Lich raised his hand and pointed behind him, toward the ships packed with the ragged soldiers. His words came out soft but mad, a sentence of death for the weak and lowly for those whose fates were held in the hands of others.
“I offer you thirty thousand souls. Let us pass.”
"Pop."
In that instant, time seemed to stop. The soldiers crowded within the narrow holds fell silent. They understood everything now why the recruitment standards had been so absurdly low, why the compensation had been so high. But in truth, it was not high at all. Two silver coins for a life. All of them were nothing but offerings for sacrifice. Exitus stayed silent. He gently stroked the tattoo of a rat on his shoulder. This was reality. In this world, there is no freedom. We are all slaves bound by the rules created by the strong. Perhaps one day, he would break free from all these chains and reach true freedom.
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“No! No! I don’t want to die like this!” The cramped ships descended into chaos. They tried desperately to flee, but where could they go when beneath them lay the pitch-black sea? Fear and despair swallowed everything, until in the end, only a deathly silence remained.
The old ferryman woman stared deeply at Exitus, what an interesting boy he was. Her thin, bony fingers trembled slightly as the surface of the sea began to stir. From it emerged countless pale souls, the SoulKeepers. They drifted through the hulls of the ships, weaving back and forth among the sacrificed. With every touch, a soul was torn from its flesh, becoming tiny glowing motes that the SoulKeepers carefully placed into a small jar.
The old woman smiled faintly; her slow, echoing voice spread across the frozen sea.
“The deal… accepted.”
The mist cleared, and the warships carrying over twenty thousand soldiers landed at the Valley of Death. The army moved while avoiding the hordes of the undead; they ogled the troops like savory cuts of meat but could not touch them.
Voga, clad in shining armor engraved with the insignia of the Lion, silently led the army toward the DarkWood. His eyes glowed red with fury. Over thirty thousand soldiers, over thirty thousand lives, had been lost just to pay the passage fee. Thinking of the transport ships filled with soulless corpses wandering the sea forever without seeing the sun, Voga clenched his teeth to suppress his rage. If he could, he would end Coeur with a single stroke right now but he knew Coeur was only a pawn in this scheme. Simply put, the fat man was here too, trapped with him in the same situation.
“General, you are far too sentimental! They are nothing but the poor and lowly. Once they signed the contract, their lives belonged to Hesmor. In any case, they were already doomed. Instead of mourning them, let them become something made the enemy surprised"
Voga looked at Coeur as if he were a fool, then suddenly asked a question that made the fat man uneasy.
“I know you came here for Dark Despair, but have you ever considered that we might have to return the same way we came? If this campaign fails, we’ll be forced to retreat. What then, if only the two of us remain?” Voga slit his eyes with murderous intent, his voice each word forced out.
“Then, ‘one soul for one life,’ I will not hesitate to leave you here forever, in this Valley of Death.”
Coeur panicked; sweat ran down his chubby, pudgy face. He smiled, smoothing things over with flattery.
“Do not worry, we will not fail. I have brought here a secret weapon. Something that will let us pass through Elf territory easily without ever having to come back here.”
Coeur snapped his fingers, and from among the escorting soldiers three stunned slaves were brought forward. They were three beautiful female Elves, bound hand and foot. Among them, the one standing in the center was extraordinarily different: her aura was cold and frigid. Though restrained, she could not hide the noble bearing in her gaze. Her white hair and sea-blue eyes glittered, making her stand out from the other female Elves.
“My gods! That is a High Elf. Coeur, you are f*cking mad, daring to enslave a High Elf could lead to a racial war.” Voga was horrified; only noble Elves blessed by the elemental spirits have colored irises. Ordinary Elves have pitch-black pupils. The woman before them had sea-blue irises and an extraordinary aura. There was no doubt, she was a High Elf, bearing royal noble blood.
“Do not worry! We rescued her from the Red Orcs in Noland. Though sealed, I have not done anything vile to her.” Coeur smiled innocently; simply, he had not yet had time to do anything before things turned out like this. A sold slave is gone anyway. But a weapon blueprint for destruction could make him money for life.
Voga rubbed his forehead, trying to suppress his annoyance. What had he gotten himself into? He felt as if Hesmor were being drawn into an invisible whirl by some mysterious hand. He had once underestimated Rumi, but now he began to understand the man’s feelings from that time.
“Aster! Please do not let Hesmor be ruined by your hands.”
Thane carried a massive sword on his back, fumbling with the bearskin map in his hand as he searched for the road to Seabloom. That’s right! He hadn’t joined the war. Exitus had bought his freedom for the price of three silver coins.
Exitus had told him to find a woman named Xevia, a powerful mage capable of lifting the seal placed on his body. Moreover, the Seabloom Academy was said to be an excellent place for young beginners like him. Exitus had also handed Thane a letter written by his own hand, instructing him to deliver it to a man named Renes, who would help him enter the academy without having to go through the examination. In just two short weeks spent with Exitus, Thane had changed greatly, no longer the innocent boy he once was. After witnessing countless nights filled with dreadful nightmares, he had grown stronger, braver, more resolute. Ever since their separation, those nightmares had finally left him.
Thane moved quietly along a narrow trail through the thick forest when suddenly, a terrified scream echoed from deep within the woods. He immediately ran toward the sound and saw a group of Goblins surrounding a small, beautiful girl with wide round eyes, thick eyebrows, and brown hair. The girl swung her arms, summoning magic water orbs that burst against the Goblins. Each impact carried great force, leaving several of them crippled and unable to rise again. But their numbers were overwhelming. One of them seized an opening and slashed its crude blade across her thigh, making her cry out in pain as she collapsed to the ground.
She clutched her bleeding leg, desperately trying to stop the blood while continuing to attack, keeping the Goblins at bay. Though she was brave, she knew her mana would soon run out. When that happened, she’d become easy prey for those bloodthirsty creatures. She had to retreat before being surrounded.
Slash !
Suddenly, a tall figure stepped in front of her. The strange boy wielded an enormous sword, each swing severed a Goblin in half, their bodies crushed and torn apart under his sheer power. Thane moved with fluid grace, his breathing steady. Despite the weapon’s weight, his strikes were effortless. His face was expressionless as he slaughtered them one by one, ruthlessly efficient. Though Goblins were considered low-level monsters, harmless to most, Thane had seen their horrifying nature in his nightmares. Killing them felt no different from taking out the trash, utterly emotionless.
Before long, the clearing was littered with mangled corpses. Blood covered Thane’s face as he breathed heavily, then turned toward the girl. He extended a hand, smiling in what he believed to be a friendly manner but the blood smeared across his face made the smile look terrifying.
“Hello there! I’m Thane! Are you all right?”
Mira stared at Thane’s blood-streaked face, and for a moment, it reminded her of someone familiar. She smiled politely, took his hand, and stood up, blood dripping down her thigh, soaking through her tight white trousers.
“I’m Mira! I’m a student from Seabloom, out here on a field mission! I didn’t expect this Goblin nest to be so large. The intel must have been wrong. If it weren’t for you, I’m not sure I’d have made it out alive. You saved my life, Thane. Thank you.”
Thane, of course, didn’t believe her so easily. Her situation wasn’t that bad. But what caught his attention were the two words she mentioned “Seabloom.”
“Seabloom? You’re a student there? That’s great! My teacher told me to go to that academy. He said I should look for someone named Renes to enroll.”
“Renes? You’re looking for our Headmaster?”
Mira’s eyes widened in surprise when she heard Thane mention that name. That drunkard actually had acquaintances? Could it be… A sudden thought flashed through her mind. No wonder his fighting style seemed familiar, so similar to his. Just how strong had that boy become already?
Mira’s attitude changed in an instant. She looked at Thane with gentle eyes, her smile warm and radiant. This was the lively, youthful Mira she had always been.
“All right then, Thane! Come with me! I’ll take you to meet your teacher’s teacher! He he he!”

