Pillars of Ita

Before the temple of Tririel, the blood that had mingled with the soil suddenly began to gather, and the shattered limbs seemed to be drawn together by an invisible force, forming a writhing mass of flesh and blood.

The writhing flesh gradually grew taller, sprouting limbs and a head. A blurry face appeared on the head, and eyebrows, a nose, teeth, and ears gradually grew on that face, eventually forming complete facial features—a pale, gloomy face.

Alter appeared extremely weak after his resurrection, but a glint of triumphant gleam remained in his ambitious eyes. "If they could defeat Amatus in the War of the Grays, they can defeat Lifgard, as expected." His somber gaze swept across the dilapidated city, where the millennia-old power of time was dissipating, revealing the true face of the fortress beneath the mist.

The star trails that descended from the sky have long since disappeared, as if they had sunk into the vast heavens. No one knows where they fell. There were three starlights in total, leaving only a fleeting memory in people's minds.

Art turned his gaze in that direction. "The final game has begun, yet you are still dwelling on the past. Perhaps that is the reason for your defeat, once a cunning and meticulous king."

“Ever since I first fought Idus, I have realized that someone has forcibly altered fate, and there are at least four eyes watching him, one of which comes from Marlan.”

"In addition to that mysterious and unpredictable goddess of fate, but what's quite strange is that she disappeared from my memory for a period of time. I can't be sure if my memories have been tampered with."

"As for the other two, it could be Olli, Milella, or Aimee, or even the business goddess Roman, who is a staunch ally of fate."

"The fact that the gods have intervened in the game of mortals proves that the fate of this world has come to an end. Whether it is destruction or hope is not important, because I must become one of them before that happens."

“This is where I am different from you, my esteemed king,” he murmured to himself, turning to look at the towering temple, his gaze lingering on the weathered archway.
No matter how powerful a chess piece is, it is still just a chess piece, while no matter how weak a chess player is, he can decide the fate of mortals with a single word.

The wanderer from Rogers walked unsteadily toward the gate, the past seemingly replaying in his mind, the past and present intertwined.

Friends, relatives, and lovers were all left behind in his footsteps, leaving only the churning conspiracy—Lifgard's daughter was also here, and they would soon extract its soul and seal its power in the past.

“What a waste! All forces in this world are predetermined. One day they will regret their recklessness today, and I must obey the will of fate and correct this mistake.”

"What they didn't expect was that I also had the soul imprint of Livgard. The star tracker was in my hands for so long, until I lost it, and it wasn't all for nothing."

"And now, it is time to reclaim it. It is a treasure that should rightfully belong to me, to the Rogers family, to Winterhold and the Valley of Ashes."

He stood before the gate, placing his hands on the cold, heavy door panels, soaked by the rain. Behind the gate, in the hall, lay a star tracker from the past, overlooked by everyone, originating from one of the most important moments of that bygone era.

By using that point, he can remain in the past and, out of everyone's sight, retrieve the sealed power.

Livegard's entire plan ultimately failed because he failed to see the forces beyond the game, but because he saw the game clearly from the beginning, he was able to become the ultimate beneficiary of this game.

Fate had begun to flow as usual, and he knew that the supreme beings did not care about the 'details' of the story.

However, he could use this power to find the weakness of the devil's master, defeat him, seize his position, and rise to become one of the dark saints.

Finally, he became one of the chess players.

This is his plan.

Everything should have been as it was, but when Art pushed open the door, he was shocked to see a familiar face in the hall.

To be precise, the other party was a member of the retinue of Bishop Baldoma of the Oath of the Flame, a young man known as the fool of the Brandbald family.

However, the other party was no longer young. He seemed to have grown taller and become more robust. Under his short silver-gray hair, his eyes no longer seemed to be only honest and clear, but also sharp like a hawk.

Only on that face did some traces of youth remain. If Fang Zheng were here, he would definitely recognize that the middle-aged man in front of him had many similarities to the Loren he remembered.

However, time and hardship have etched their marks on him, making the man appear cold and melancholic.

The man wasn't wearing any magical equipment, just ordinary clothes. The sword in his hand was just casually placed on the ground, but his mere presence made Alt feel like he had a thorn in his side and couldn't move.

"The Sword of the Rock... Serwyn..."

Art called out the other person's name immediately.

He is the Knight of the Sword of the Rock—Loren Stoneskel, one of the four dragon knights who have risen through the ranks in the past three hundred years of the Twelve Paths, and one of the two strongest in the Temple of Miro.

Serwyn did not answer, but raised his sword and pointed it at Alter in front of him: "Sir Corbelflick, or should I call you Alter the Wanderer of Idus, or Maryland Rogers of Winterhold?"

Art remained silent.

He looked at the other person; the star tracker was right beneath Serwin's feet, the pervasive power of time was fading, the swaying copper rails were covered in rust, and the whole thing was becoming transparent, as if it would disappear from the world at any moment.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but Art stood frozen in place, knowing that if he made a single mistake, the sword in his opponent's hand would mercilessly pierce his chest.

He wisely chose to give up in an instant.

Although watching the star tracker disappear filled Alte with regret and a sense of failure, he never expected that it would happen to him so soon.

He suppressed the strong urge in his heart, looked up at the other person, and asked that bitter question: "Why are you here?"

He chose Baldoma because the bishop's faction was a political adversary of the knight of the Rock and the Twelve Oaths behind him.

Their reasons for heading to this gray sea were the curse spreading through the bay region, the conflict with the Empire, and the message sent back by the saintess.

Theoretically, Serwin was underground at the time of the Twelve Pillars of the Stars, so he shouldn't have alerted Beryl. Even if the two of them belatedly realized something, it would have been too late to cross the sky sea between the Hill of the Giant Tree and Rotao.

However, the other party used the alias "the fool of the Brandbald family" and joined the team from the beginning. In other words, at least before they formulated their plan, this knight of the Bad Rock Sword had already received the news.

But if that's the case, why didn't they just leave him in Rotao?

“Someone tipped us off,” Serwin said, not one to lie, “but she didn’t tell me your real purpose, only that this illusion was mentioned.”

He was a witness to the great war three hundred years ago, so he knew exactly what was sealed within this fortress. The war ended in a crushing defeat for the Flamebringer, but for the past three hundred years—or since he was promoted to Dragon Knight—he had never forgotten what happened here.

Art's mind raced as he considered all the suspects, but he was shocked to discover that he seemed to have been outmaneuvered by someone who had never even entered his field of vision.

Who is it?
He was completely baffled, but Serwyn seemed unwilling to give him any more time to reminisce. "Come with me. The underground of the Twelve Pillars of the Stars will be your final resting place."

“But before that, you can talk to me about your deal with your master, the Demon Lord Andro, and what their so-called ‘final game’ really is.”

As I left the temple, the last rain was still falling lightly, but the gale had gradually subsided, and the clouds once again covered the sky of Vor-Salasti.

Serwin looked up at the gray sky, then looked in another direction, lingering thoughtfully on the square there.

Three hundred years ago, they suffered a crushing defeat here.

But three hundred years later, someone rewrote its ending.

Looking back at the past at the end of time, he had never imagined such a scene, but he just silently looked in that direction—as if he could see the shadow behind it through the mist.

Two young people.

"That Gonzalez guy..."

Serwin shook his head, then led his men down the mountain.

……

Loren sighed softly.

He looked in the direction of Leonard, where the young man from the Gulmod family had completely faded into nothingness. The latter looked serious, having already learned the rest of the story from Fang Zheng.

Shortly after he returned to Rotaor, the previous Sword of the Holy Commandment died of a serious illness, and he thus inherited the title of Sword of the Holy Commandment.

Soon after, he was promoted for his outstanding achievements in the war against the Dragon Cultists, and later became one of the Twelve Holy Oaths and was selected to lead the Ancient Order of Knights.

His descendants will also benefit from this name, making the Gulmod family one of the most illustrious families in Rotao.

However, Leonard Gulmod himself never became a dragon knight, passing away at the age of eighty-six in the city of Jenamin—his birthplace. Leonard, however, showed no emotion upon hearing this; this young man, like Loren, or rather, like all the ancient knights, seemed to possess an innate calmness.

He had heard that his descendant had once again become the Grand Master of the Ancient Order of Knights centuries later. Hearing the legend of the other party, he felt as if he were listening to the story of a stranger.

Perhaps it's because ordinary people simply cannot imagine that span of hundreds of years.

For Leonard at this moment, he was just a young man who had not yet inherited the Holy Sword, and he even smiled shyly.

He will remain in this moment, and everything that follows will no longer concern him.

But the young man showed little regret or fear. He looked around the square, where a mist was sweeping in, marking the end of this time.

He solemnly bid farewell to Fang Heng and the others, thanking them for all their efforts in the war and for rewriting its proper ending, before Leonard turned and walked into the mist.

Before stepping into the mist, the future heir to the Holy Sword turned around, waved to them, and then his figure completely disappeared into the mist.

A group of knights were with him.

“I don’t want to hear anything about myself,” the boy said, watching the scene unfold before turning back. “Let what hasn’t happened yet remain a mystery. That’s not what I’m regretting…”

Fang Zheng looked at the other person.

Perhaps because he had gained the power of Lifgard, Loren's body was more materialized than anyone else's, even making Belial, who was present, almost translucent.

"My regret is that I didn't get to know you in real history, Ed."

"Our story is destined to be buried in these ruins, sealed in history, and will not be sung by anyone, nor will anyone remember it."

"It's like a bubble in the ocean, a legend in the pages of a book. Once this illusion completely disappears, people will no longer be able to tell if it's real or not."

“But at least some people still remember,” Beryl began, her gaze sweeping over Fang Zheng and the others. “Although we were trapped by this illusion, it influenced the true ending of this world—”

"One day in the future, if the history of Aetaria is able to emerge from its predicament, and mortals survive that true catastrophe, when they look back to explore the origins of this story—"

She let out a soft sigh. "They will eventually find out what really happened in this story."

Fang Zheng and Luo Hao behind him, the big cat-man nodded slightly.

“Will we ever meet again, Ed?” Loren asked, “in that world?”

Fang Zheng looked at the other person and nodded. He already knew Loren's future identity, but would the knight with the Sword of the Rock still be the same person as the boy before him three hundred years later?
To be honest, he wasn't sure, but he couldn't bear to disappoint the other person at this time. He felt a little disappointed; although the experience was brief, he had already considered the other person a friend.

But now, it's time for my friend to say goodbye.

“Yes,” he replied, “maybe.”

After hearing his answer, Loren wasn't dissatisfied. He simply nodded silently and stood back down.

He then turned his gaze to Beryl, who stepped forward and said, "Everyone, it's time to say goodbye." But then she looked at Fang Zheng, "Ed, do you have any questions for me?"

Fang Zheng then nodded.

What he actually wanted to ask was about the origins of the Flame of the Pivot.

As Beryl had previously stated, when the Wildlings and the Lightbringers parted ways, a split also occurred within the Oathkeepers of the Gulf region.

Some remained steadfast in their faith at the Hill of the Great Trees, while others crossed the ocean to Rotaor, and those were the precursors to the Firelink Shrine.

The blood and curse of Lifgard transcend time and distance, affecting two lineages descended from the same bloodline.

However, for various reasons, this curse and this gift were dealt with differently.

In the Flamebringer's Court, people extract another power from their own bloodline—blood magic, which is actually the power of the oath-keeper, originating from dragon blood—a power of shared origin between friend and foe.

Over the long course of time, the Oath Court has forgotten the origin of this power. Moreover, as they continue to recruit believers from all directions, the number of true descendants of the Oath Keepers has actually decreased, and the power in their bloodline has become weaker and weaker.

This is why the curse upon the Oathcrow was far less severe than that upon the Children of the Gulf. Their repeated returns to Vol-Salasti were actually to mend the increasingly waning path of Bloodborne magic and the Flame of the Pit.

“But as far as I know,” Fang Zheng asked, “the twelve paths are all related to the prophecy about the third calamity. The twelve stars fall to the earth, and the Holy Grail of the Spirits will appear where they gather. In fact, each of these twelve stars points to the twelve divine powers of the Saints of Orin.”

He paused for a moment, "But how could it be related to dragon blood and curses?"

“Because the path that the Flamebringer’s Oath Cult adheres to is not ‘Bloodborne,’” Beryl replied calmly, as if she had anticipated his question. “It is—Golden Flame.”

……

The wind and snow gradually subsided.

Olivia looked at the pool of black blood on the ground and the nearly depleted heart that originally belonged to the evil dragon, stuck in the boy's sword.

The purplish-black heart had long since stopped beating. The moment the box pulled the demon sword Gwendes away, it turned into a piece of sand and vanished in the wind, like a weathered, dry shell.

Elisa and Eleusis walked silently to the side, watching this scene. As for the phantom from history, it had long since vanished. Maryland Rogers, who had been stabbed in the chest—this ambitious young man still called himself by that name—was lying crookedly on the snow.

His body was already cold, and no starlight emanated from his body; he simply became translucent and then gradually faded away.

The scholar then looked up at the three of them and said, "Alright, the power of Livegard has completely disappeared. It seems that Ed has successfully completed his mission."

“This is truly a remarkable feat,” she exclaimed, “but now is not the time to celebrate. We must leave this place immediately to avoid getting trapped.”

Her gaze lingered on Miss Nightingale. "I'll see you off first."

"And what about you?" Elisa asked.

“I also want to stay and retrieve the nodes,” Olivia said, looking at the orbiter, “and record this history.”

Elisa nodded. She had no interest in history. Now that Livegard was dead, the last obstacle in their way had been removed.

Next, they will take over the fortress. What they need to do now is to grasp the core of the real history. She is only worried that the pirate lady will go back on her word.

As for the rest, she didn't care much.

Seeing that the three did not object, Olivia waved her hand, sending them away from this illusion.

But after Elisa and the others disappeared, the scholar didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. Instead, she leisurely walked over and picked up the star tracker.

The moment the fragment of the Holy Grail was in her hand, it immediately stabilized. Olivia held it in her palm, then found a place to sit down, as if waiting for something.

After a long while, a young man emerged from the mist.

The other person seemed to have been wandering in that fog for quite some time, and when he emerged from the fog, his expression still looked somewhat bewildered.

But Olivia seemed to recognize him, tilting her head back in the snow to look at his young face, and softly said:

"Loren Stoneskel".

"Now, they need your help."

"Please give it to me..."

...(End of chapter)