Chapter 300: Chapter 61: Legend! Legend! (9)

Another day passed with no further activity from the direction of Eagle’s Beak Peak. The cloud of war that had loomed over the fortress for nearly a month seemed to be slowly scattered by an invisible force.

In the Lower District, the atmosphere within the once crowded, chaotic, and despair-filled stone labyrinth was also quietly changing.

Soldiers began carrying civilians with severe injuries, or those simply too weak to move, to makeshift medical tents with slightly better conditions.

Although the rations still consisted of coarse black bread and watery vegetable soup, the portions seemed to have stabilized. At least it no longer prompted the bloody scrambles for a single bite that had occurred in previous days.

The heavy air, thick with a mixture of despair, fear, and numbness, had lightened just a little.

Under a hovel pieced together from broken planks and tarpaulin, a few sallow-faced refugees, their eyes no longer completely hollow, were gathered and conversing in low voices.

"...Have you heard? Yesterday, those Great Knights who made it back alive from the Deep Red Wilderness all went to that lord’s residence to offer their thanks," a scrawny, middle-aged man said in a hoarse voice.

"Which lord?" a woman holding a child nearby asked, looking up in confusion.

"Who else could it be!" Another young man with a fresh scrape on his face lowered his voice, but his eyes were shining. "The one from the day before yesterday! The Legendary Knight on the eastern ridge who descended like a god from the heavens and slaughtered all those monsters with flashes of thunder! The Governor of Melfield!"

A series of low, awed gasps echoed from beneath the hovel.

"So it was him..." The woman hugged the child in her arms tighter, a complicated look in her eyes. "That day... I think I saw a flash of light from far away... Then, the soldiers overseeing us herded us back... After that, no more monsters came from that direction."

"More than just the eastern ridge!" The scrawny man’s voice grew excited, and though he tried to keep it down, it was still laced with exhilaration. "The fighting at the Central Tower two days ago was earth-shattering! In the end, it was that lord who slew the mountain-sized, fire-breathing insect with a single stroke of his sword! I have a distant nephew who was carrying the wounded at the foot of the wall, and he heard the retreating soldiers shouting with his own ears! They were yelling, ’A Legend!’ and ’Lord Melfield saved everyone’!"

"No wonder... Two days ago, I felt the whole fortress shake, and then the cries of the monsters grew more and more distant..." the young man murmured, glancing at his injured arm. He had been trampled in the chaos of that day.

After a moment of silence, the woman with the child spoke softly, a careful hope in her voice. "So... does that mean that lord... didn’t just save us? He also saved... the fortress...?"

"Of course he did!" The scrawny man nodded emphatically. "If he hadn’t defended the tower, if the monsters had broken through, would any of us still be alive?"

He glanced around at their shabby, filthy surroundings and gave a bitter smile. "Life is still hard, but at least... we’re alive. Besides, haven’t you noticed? The soldier ladling out the soup today—he was still stone-faced, but he didn’t try to snatch the few solid bits out of our bowls."

"I heard," a white-haired old man who had been silent until now suddenly spoke, his voice aged, "that the Cardinal from the Church Court has begun preparing to bestow the honor and rewards of the Holy Protector title upon the Great Knights who returned from the Deep Red Wilderness."

"Holy Protector?" the young man asked, confused.

"It’s one of the Church Court’s highest honors. I hear it comes with countless benefits..." the old man said slowly. "And the reason for the award is that they successfully closed the Plane Passage on Eagle’s Beak Peak—the one that was constantly spewing out monsters!"

Silence fell beneath the hovel.

Closed the passage?

The passage that had been open for so long, a veritable Gate of Hell that had unleashed endless death and terror... had been closed?

Before, they hadn’t understood what a Plane Passage was, but they certainly did now.

"They... they closed it?" the woman’s voice trembled with incredulous hope.

"That’s what the rumors say." The old man nodded. "People like us could never know the details of how it was closed. But look around—the monsters aren’t pouring in like a tide anymore, are they?"

Everyone instinctively looked toward Eagle’s Beak Peak. Although their view was blocked by layers of fortifications and mountain rock, it was true that they hadn’t felt any disturbances for the past two days.

"But..." the scrawny man hesitated, "it was Lord Melfield those Great Knights went to thank. And I heard that the Great Knights who made it back alive were all injured, in a sorry state. When Lord Melfield returned, however..."

He recalled the deep blue figure he had glimpsed from afar—calm and tall, like a mountain. The man was the very opposite of ’in a sorry state.’

"You mean..." The young man seemed to understand something, his eyes widening.

A glint of understanding flashed in the old man’s murky eyes. He lowered his voice, speaking as if it took all his strength. "Think about it. Who was the last to return from that direction? Who went straight to the most dangerous battlefield the moment he was back and slew the most terrifying monster? Why would all those Great Knights go to thank him, and him alone?"

The answer was all but spoken.

A deeper silence fell over the hovel. But this time, the silence was not filled with despair, but with a complex current of shock, gratitude, and an inexplicable sense of pride.

"It must have been Lord Melfield..." The woman hugged her child tighter, her voice choked with emotion. "He must have... done the most important part in there. Otherwise, why would those lofty, high-and-mighty figures... how could they..."

How could they all have shown him such unanimous respect?