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墨書 Inktalez
On this day, a heavy rain fell across the Godeyas Continent.
Such widespread precipitation covering the entire continent was unprecedented in history. This phenomenon piqued the interest of many scholars, who set aside their work to conduct investigations in various locations. Some claimed that the rain was a warning from the gods due to years of war on the Godeyas Continent, while others suggested it was a result of unchecked pollution from the forces of darkness leading to climate deterioration. In any case, numerous scholars shared their theories, spreading many rumors throughout the towns.
Years later, all these claims would be proven false and entirely unfounded. However, those who observed closely would notice that from that day onward, the fires of war on the continent truly diminished! The most significant change came from the Fallen Dragon Clan, which surprisingly took the initiative to clear away food remains and established several guidelines regarding the issue of "invading towns." One of these rules stated: no plundering in towns still suffering from poverty, and during any plundering process, one must maintain politeness.
This led to a strange scenario years later where towns provided food to the black dragons in exchange for protection.
Of course, that was all a matter for the future.
The heavy rain lasted a full week. On the morning after it ended, Yasthia sat by her bedroom window, gazing at the imperial capital, which looked refreshed after being washed clean by the rain. Since last night, ministers had been reporting back on their work one after another with enthusiasm far exceeding that of previous times; even His Majesty Philip was busier than ever.
However, Yasthia felt differently. To be precise, since this morning, she had canceled all her appointments and even refused to meet with Newbies. She sat there by the window, her thoughts drifting from the first candy her elder brother had given her when she was five to the time he hired Solomon to hunt her down for the throne.
Forty minutes ago, the Second Prince had come here personally but was denied an audience. He left behind a letter. Yasthia skimmed through it briefly and then fell into deep contemplation.
It was an apology letter.
Yasthia found it hard to understand; could it be that last night her elder brother dreamt of all their shared memories just like she did? Wasn't that just a coincidence?
Then how should she interpret her other dream?
Did that person really die just like that?
After leaving the palace, the Newbies sat side by side on the stone steps.
Everyone fell into silence.
This morning, they had simply wanted to find Your Highness, but on their way, they encountered their companions. As they walked, the elite Rookie Class of the Knight Training Camp unexpectedly gathered in this manner. However, throughout the entire process, no one spoke; they silently maintained a tacit understanding and left together after Your Highness declined to meet them.
If they couldn't see the person, then there was no point in trying. Their instructor had never taught them to linger.
"I'll head back first." One Novice stood up and slowly walked toward the dormitory building.
Another Novice got up.
"I'm leaving too; I still have homework."
"I have four sets of Muscle Training left."
...
The Newbies gradually departed, plunging into the rain curtain. The raindrops struck their armor with a crisp sound. They did not choose the same direction but instead tacitly opted for different paths, dispersing in all directions.
The silhouettes were quite lonely, revealing an underlying sadness.
This brought to mind their youthful appearances when they used to cry out in various situations, contrasting sharply with their tall, silent figures now.
In the end, only three people remained on the steps.
“I'm dreaming that the mentor is dead,” Layton said, his eyes red.
At that moment, Dostodoro and Rody, who had just stood up, froze and exchanged glances.
“In my dream, the mentor was in a very dark place. I don't know what he wanted to do... His enemy was terrifying; I couldn't see it, but I could feel it...” Layton's voice began to tremble. “The mentor's soul was glowing, just like the burning mentioned in Magic Theory…”
“Shut your crow's mouth,” Dostodoro interrupted coldly, frowning.
“But the mentor…” Layton looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably.
After arriving in the imperial capital, Dostodoro and Rody had both emerged as prominent figures. Although they still gathered with the Rookie Class from time to time, they no longer needed to take orders from Layton due to their differing statuses. Moreover, through several experiences, the aloof Dostodoro and the mature Rody had formed an exceptionally successful partnership that earned them the trust and admiration of the residents of the capital.
“Don't worry; it's just a dream,” Rody said as he handed over a handkerchief. After a moment's thought, he added, “The mentor has his own things to accomplish. Regardless, we have each accompanied one another in our respective worlds... Hmm, you might just be missing the mentor too much.”
“I…” Layton bit his lip tightly, but that dream felt too real.
“What about you? Do you even realize how ugly you look when you're crying?” Dostodoro sneered coldly. “I remember the mentor never taught you to be weak or to cry!”
“With someone like you, all you've done is show off in the preparatory camp! Rookie Squad Leader?”
Layton's eyes blazed with anger. Everyone knew that witnessing Mayor Tutulu plunge into flames had dealt a significant blow to Dostodoro, so they usually understood when he mocked others. But at this moment, Layton could no longer tolerate it; last night's dream had already left him extremely agitated.
In this critical moment, it was the more composed Rody who extinguished their anger.
"I’m going back," Layton said, taking a deep breath as he stood up and walked toward the dormitory building.
The bond of the Rookie Class was forged through countless trials and would not be easily broken by differences in status or a few sarcastic remarks.
But just a few steps away, Layton heard an unexpected voice.
Dostodoro looked up at the rain falling from the sky and said softly, "I'm sorry for being harsh."
"Yeah, me too."
...
Once Layton had walked far enough away, only Dostodoro and Rody remained on the steps.
Their partnership had gone through many adjustments, and in some ways, they were as in sync as left and right hands, often able to guess what the other was thinking without needing to speak.
The rain soaked their hair.
Rody remained silent for a long time before asking, "So... you had the same dream too?"
"No," Dostodoro frowned. "Do you really believe that fool's words?"
"It's not about believing or not. If I told you I had a similar dream last night, would you believe me?" Rody said with a serious look.
"No." Dostodoro fell silent for a few seconds before standing up and walking toward the dormitory building.
A voice came from behind Rody.
"We were supposed to go to the Carlo Mountains this afternoon, what do we say now?"
"Let's postpone it."
Only Rody remained on the steps.
To be honest, Rody had always been afraid of getting caught in the rain, and the last time he was drenched was back in Blackstone Town.
At that time, he had snuck out of the estate in the middle of the night to avoid Uncle Dachi's punishment and ran through the rain to the second floor of a small building on Roland Street.
At that moment, Dostodoro returned to the room.
He stood by the window, gazing at the curtain of rain, lost in thought. Last night, he had actually dreamt as well; in his dream, he relived his childhood, and many buried memories awakened within him, more vivid than before.
Especially when Volikov had tempted him to tease Garen. Every time he recalled those moments, Dostodoro would find himself laughing at his past absurdities, completely unlike his usual cold demeanor.
Then, as he laughed,
Tears began to flow down his cheeks.
That fool Layton had described that dream...
Damn it.
I really don't want to admit it.
...
The Godeyas Continent remains the same, yet it seems to be undergoing some unknown changes.
For instance, Mokfande, who smoothly became the eighth Progenitor, surprisingly did not follow the usual practice of dealing with the former Revernon Clan. Nor did he ignite wars like Rebia did in the past to solidify his position and assert his power.
The major Clans rarely engaged in scheming against each other, as if they were exhausted elders deciding to take a good rest. After their break, they found that this peaceful life seemed quite enjoyable.
Of course, the struggle for interests continued. However, everyone tacitly adopted a nearly negotiable approach, leading to the bloodline's upper echelons covering their ears whenever meetings were held nearby.
A group of Third Tier old-timers shouted hoarsely... The level of harm was no less than facing the Dragon Clan directly!
Since morning, the Solomon Clan had been in a state of paralysis. Many speculated that His Highness Su Ye had encountered some difficulties. Fortunately, a rare appearance by the suddenly conscientious upper echelons of the Solomon Clan managed to address many issues within the Clan.
Only Bai knew that Su Ye had locked himself in his room.
Last night, Beryl Mountain committed suicide in the Abyss.
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