II

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Arc II Chapter 13

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18^th of Anima Lunar 753 AAC

The horses stopped and the cart halted. Deeper and deeper, they had ventured into the heart of the forest, abandoning the light of civilisation. Trails and trampled paths guided them, leading them into the wilderness, further and further into the darkness.

Ancient trees watched their steps. The centuries made them reach for the sky, yet single, lost rays of light still succeeded in piercing their impenetrable canopies, causing the shadows to flicker along their way in a surreal dance of light and shadow, but even the darkest forest was bound to end. The night passed, and the sun reclaimed her rightful place, as the trees grew sparser, replaced by grass and lush vegetation. Few human souls set foot upon this land, a land long since forgotten by the sands of time, a land cursed by history, a land stained with blood.  

A gentle breeze caressed Aurora's s, as wide open grassland of lustrous meadows and pastures welcomed her. A river traversed the grassland. Nourished by the cold water of the mountains, the stream vitalised the land along its banks. 

Her gaze swept across the ruins occupying these vast plains, the remains of a once glorious nation, of a once proud metropolis destined to never return. Where once spread a pulsating city, there was now a desolated desert of crumbling stone and decay devoid of life and joy, ruled by silence and death. An ominous aura haunted the ruins, an aura of fear, terror, pain, misery, death. The dark elements were strong. The taint of corruption was everywhere, as darkness thrived in the shadows throughout the centuries. This was truly a cursed place, forsaken by the living, a sentiment seemingly shared by the rest of the party.

The ruins unsettled them all. Lambert, Iris, Rudolf, Michael, their discomfort was palpable, written all across their faces. Even their Elven companions declined to comment.

Aurora turned to her companions with a single question. “What is this place?”

“This, ...”, Arwing took the word. “This is the ancient city of Valentia.”

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Lambert hated this place. In fact, everyone hated this place. The nobles hated this place. The church hated this place. The scholars hated this place. The mages hated this place. The knights hated this place. The soldiers hated this place. The guild hated this place. The adventurers hated this place. Even the local wildlife hated this place. The hatred for this place was universal. It was the long shadow of Valentia, the darkness hiding amidst these malicious ruins, that unsettled them all. Valentia was a blight upon the land, a curse born of the sins committed by their ancestors.

Yet it was his party that advanced through said cursed ruins. Fortunately, without encountering significant opposition so far, and he hoped it would stay this way.

The streets were empty, but Lambert distrusted the apparent peace and maintained his guard. His gloved hand reached for the hilt of his sword. The beasts were hiding. They were avoiding direct contact during broad daylight, lurking instead among the shadows, waiting for the night to emerge.

Most likely because the nobility and the guild were regularly purging the area. Recently, a detachment of Schwarzean Knights even slew the infamous dread wyvern along with her brood. The draconian monstrosity and her ruinous kin terrorised the land after seeking shelter in the withered ruins of Valentia.

Yet despite all human efforts, repeated campaigns bore little fruit. They all failed in their attempt to reclaim Valentia. The beast population didn't decline, with their numbers being seemingly endless. Their threat never ceased, but their stable population made Valentia an excellent hunting ground. The ruins provided the world with a constant supply of rare ingredients and materials, such as leather, fur, sinews, talons, horns, fangs, blood, and high grade mana cores, all of which Valentia had aplenty. They were goods in high demand and merchants paid well for them, as alchemists and artisans alike craved for them in their insatiable hunger for resources. Reckless and competent adventurers were only too happy to oblige in exchange for adequate coin. Driven by profit and what could be considered genuine business acumen, their parties scavenged the ruins in search of materials or ancient artefacts. Generations of looters tried their utmost since the destruction of Valentia to divest her of all of her treasures, yet they failed in their efforts, unable to take everything. 

From time to time, expeditions were still uncovering priceless relics from the distant past. The knowledge and techniques as to their creation were long since lost to time, yet their reputation survived. The durability and ductility of Valentian steel was legendary, such was its reputation. Not to mention, the ruins were one of the few remaining sources of true Adamanthril, an alloy of extraordinary properties, highly sought after for the purpose of forging weapons and armour.

Ever cautious, Lambert peeked around a corner, his eyes scanning the area. There was no enemy in sight. Only rubble. The area was safe and the ancient citadel of Valentia already looming on the horizon. A massive structure resided at the highest point of the city, throning above the ruins. The sheer might of the abandoned citadel never failed to impress, even after centuries of neglect. It was a fortress of stone and granite dug deeply into a hill, with a vast subterranean complex of descending floors and tunnels beneath. Even to this day, the deepest levels of the arsenal remained largely unexplored.

Lambert turned to their client. “Lady Arwing, the citadel is in sight. How shall we proceed?”

The elf returned a polite smile. “We trust in your judgement, Lambert. We leave the decision to your experienced hands.”

“I understand.” Lambert scrutinised his party with a keen eye. He had Rudolf. He had Michael. He had Iris. He had two elven scholars with dubious combat capabilities. And he had a defenceless amnesiac girl. His options were thus limited.

Lambert eventually made his decision. His eyes turned to his, clapping Michael on his shoulder. “Michael, you come with me. We will together scout the citadel. Our recent reports say that the area should be clear, but better safe than sorry. I don't want to experience any nasty surprises when we all head underground. Rudolf, Iris, in the meanwhile, you stay here with our girl and our clients. You prepare the camp until we return, understood?”

Everyone nodded, signalling their agreement.

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