The Looming Crisis and Ancient Histories

Ursula had been entirely engrossed in her rice research. The festive commotion and the stirrings of external events had yet to penetrate her mind, which was brimming with aspirations for the future. Researchers, too, possessed their own distinct pride, a small but firm conviction she held. Once she began a task, everything else was set aside until she achieved some tangible results. She had fully expected her research to continue as usual after the Consecration Festival.

As she made her way down the corridor towards the cultivation room, following her routine, the Duke’s eldest son suddenly called out to her. “You are Miss Ursula, aren’t you?”

“I am Chris; you should recognize me.”

“Ah, yes.” “Young Master Chris, how may I help you?”

“It’s like this,” he paused.

“Something has come up in the ducal territory recently, and I need you to leave Lanburg County temporarily, as soon as possible.”

“Wait, have I done something wrong, or offended someone important?”

“No, not at all.” Chris denied her assumption, then seemed to deliberate over his words, carefully selecting a few permissible phrases from a multitude of unspoken truths.

“These are grave political matters, potentially involving external forces, and the Ducal Estate requires a collective meeting to address them.” “For your safety, madam, I urge you to leave Lanburg County as swiftly as possible today.”

“Is that so…” Ursula’s eyes betrayed clear disappointment.

“Please grant me a little more time. Miss Audrey and I still have many documents and research samples to organize, but I can depart by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Chris’s expression remained unreadable. He nodded, his brow still furrowed with concern, and then swiftly departed. Ursula, standing rooted to the spot, her hands empty, felt as if struck by a paralysis spell. Only when the sunlight streaming through the window stung her eyes did she slowly regain her senses. For some reason, a pang of sorrow pierced her heart.

****

“I’ve already informed the servants that they need to return early.”

“For those who couldn’t make it back today, I’ve arranged for them to stay at their homes for now.” Chris reported to Philip.

“Father and Sir Marin issued an order this morning for a three-day city-wide lockdown and curfew, beginning this evening.”

“The official explanation is a beast tide drill, and they demand that all citizens of Auetland treat it with the utmost seriousness.”

“And what do they require of me?”

“They hope you… if, if a beast tide truly occurs, they wish for you and the Archbishop to protect the populace and evacuate them through the North Gate.” “This is the best arrangement to minimize casualties…”

“I understand.” Philip’s tone suggested he had anticipated this.

“Even if it means abandoning all of Auetland, as long as its people are protected, Lanburg County will endure.”

“Father, he…” Chris felt a lump in his throat, unable to speak further. Hassan had led his team deep into the Ancient Zhi Forest alone, early that morning.”

“He will be fine; he is the current Duke, after all.” Philip offered reassurance.”

“I understand.” The eighteen-year-old eldest son’s voice regained its composure. At least he still had people he could rely on by his side… Yet, a sudden, fleeting fear of the future assailed his heart—

‘When Father is gone, and Marin and Philip have both departed, will I truly be able to uphold Cavendish on my own?’

‘Could I truly bear this responsibility, this weighty legacy of the family name?’

“Go and gather Daniel and the others.”

“Tell them everything, so they can be mentally prepared.”

“Understood, Uncle.” He left the office, his footsteps swift and urgent.

****

The younger generation of Cavendish was assembled there: Chris, Audrey, Daniel, and Colette. Rhine was also present, along with a tall, blue-haired maid.

The maid, with her plain features and a scattering of freckles on her cheeks, stood quietly half a step behind Colette.

“This is my maid, Lora; she’s not an outsider.” Colette introduced her.

Chris nodded, then succinctly outlined the looming crisis.

“That’s how things stand.” Silence permeated the room, a chilling undercurrent rising from their very souls that made them oblivious to the early summer heat.

“This means a crisis is highly probable, and we must be fully prepared.”

“My younger siblings, even if you are not yet adults, you are still part of the House of Cavendish, and you have a duty to know.”

Chris spoke with righteous solemnity, embodying the role of a true elder brother in that moment.

“—Even if this means abandoning Lanburg County, even if it means forsaking this manor where we grew up, even if it means leaving behind our past lives, I want you all to be resolute and prepare for the worst.”

“I have no objections.” Daniel was the first to speak, his gaze firm, already appearing to have made up his mind.

“Nor do I.” Colette replied, having not grown up in the ducal territory, she harbored little emotional attachment to it.

Only the eldest daughter remained silent, her gaze deep and thoughtful, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

“King Duran, you say?” Audrey mused, “I know a thing or two about history.”

She rose, gazing distantly out the window towards the southern direction.

“Before the establishment of Norman, the most powerful nation standing on the Western Continent was Morien, a realm still ruled by sorcerers.”

“It is widely known that Morien, in its heyday, was no less glorious than Norman is today, and the monarch of that nation, Zachariah, also bore a renowned title.” “The world knew him as the ‘Sorcerer King’.”

“With his absolute power, he subjugated the four great lords, enslaved elves to forge four magic rings, and used these rings to force them into submission, compelling them to pledge their souls in loyalty.”

“These four lords were—King Duran of the South, King Maian of the Northern Reaches, King of the Lonely Mountain in the East, and King of the River Valley in the West.”

“Whether loyal followers or forced into submission, none could escape the fate of wearing the magic rings and being controlled by the Sorcerer King.” “As long as the Sorcerer King lived, the Four Kings would be immortal.”

“However, the Sorcerer King’s dark rule was exceedingly tyrannical, which eventually led to the legend of Norman’s First Holy Emperor raising the banner of rebellion and establishing the nation.”

“King Duran, a master of beast-taming, had all of the South under his sway and was a devout follower of the Sorcerer King; among the Four Kings, his direct combat ability was also the strongest.”

“In the last century, during a war with the First Cavendish, he was cut down by their sword, his departed soul sealed within the deep forest—what is now the Ancient Zhi Forest.”

“However, the Cavendish of that era also paid a heavy price.”

“Later, concerning the allocation of fiefdoms, the Cavendish family accepted the immense duty of guarding the Ancient Zhi Forest, thereby establishing their roots in Auetland…”

As Audrey recounted the tale, a long-buried segment of history slowly resurfaced. Rhine, not well-versed in history, was utterly astonished to hear this ancient account.

“The Four Kings, the Four Kings… Wait, King Maian of the Northern Reaches?”

“I’ve heard that name before…”

The Gate of Memory’ swung open once more, his expression grave as the blizzards of the Northern Reaches vividly reappeared before him. At the time, he had believed it was merely the guardian of the snow mountain, a lost soul from Mount Chione.

Hollow, unseeing eye sockets had stared at him, the druidic power of nature twisted into terrifying malevolence, and black snow had churned into a storm, unleashing immense malice upon him and his companions.

“So that was King Maian.”

“Heh, and now we’ve encountered another one; it seems our karmic ties are truly profound.”