Chapter 6: Beneath the Twin Moons
Ding-dong, ding-dong—
The sound of bells rang out.
In the main city of the Moldavia County territory, the cathedral struck the evening chime. The melodious toll echoed nine times, announcing to all that night had fallen.
With the bells, the lights in every household began to dim one by one.
Due to the martial law enforced half a month ago, even the commercial districts and the Street of Wandering Songbirds, which once never extinguished their lights even at midnight, had fallen into darkness. Apart from the faint torches carried by patrols moving back and forth through the streets, only a few places in the entire city remained illuminated.
And the brightest among them was the Lord's Mansion.
Beside this building, which stood at the city center and resembled a castle, a tall encircling wall blocked the view of outsiders.
"He's not dead?!"
A roar erupted from within.
In a hall that was not particularly spacious but carried an ancient aura, a robust man who appeared somewhat stout sat on a large chair, his brows furrowed as he shouted at the guard kneeling before him: "How is this possible! Didn't the news a few days ago say he charged alone into the orc enemy lines and couldn't possibly have survived?!"
"My lord, according to intelligence from our spies, not only did that man not die, he also performed a great deed and was granted the Glory Blade. Although he was suspended and sent back for violating military regulations, for us, this is the worst possible news."
The masked guard's expression was unreadable, but one could guess his face was extremely grim.
"...Hmph, even if he's alive, so what? He's merely a Silver-rank warrior. His return is of little use."
Shaking his head, Dania Radcliffe, this tall and sturdy middle-aged man, let out a cold laugh. His expression appeared somewhat ferocious under the candlelight: "The knights loyal to his father are all stationed at the Black Forest Fortress. Those knights are the real enemies to watch, but they cannot return before the Black Tide ends. And after the Black Tide, I will have long since inherited the title and become the new Count of Winterfell!"
Despite saying this, his brows remained tightly knit, his face troubled: "But he is still alive after all. For those knights, he is their pillar of support..."
"Mr. Dania, it seems you've run into trouble." Suddenly, a low and deep male voice echoed in the robust middle-aged man's mind. At the same time, on the other side of the hall, a figure emerged from the shadows—a warrior clad in armor appeared without a sound.
Logically speaking, full-body armor made of metal would produce noticeable footsteps and scraping sounds, but this man clearly defied common sense, moving without any noise. Just then, another psychic transmission came: "If there's anything inconvenient to handle, feel free to tell me."
"Swordsman... the Silent One, what are you doing here?"
Seeing this armor, Dania straightened his sitting posture and replied with a frown: "You should be on patrol right now. Why are you here?"
"I hired you powerful wandering warriors not so you could wander around idly!" As he spoke, a hint of chill crept into his voice.
The Silent One's helmet shook slightly, and he made a helpless gesture with his hands before transmitting psychically: "Nominally, I am employed by you. In reality, without 'their' support, you wouldn't be able to hire me at all. The same goes for the others."
"Besides, I'm not here to argue with you about this, sir. There is a very important piece of news that I think you need to know." At this point, the Silent One grew serious: "You know I have no reason to deceive you."
Dania knew this was no joke. He immediately stood up, his expression solemn: "What news?"
Though he couldn't see the Silent One's expression, it was clearly a matter of great importance.
"'Their' esteemed one has already set out."
"When will he arrive?"
"Tomorrow."
Upon hearing this news, Dania's face instantly turned extremely grim: "I haven't even taken control of this city yet. If that esteemed one comes now..."
"Telling me this is useless." The Silent One interrupted with his telepathic communication: "Better prepare to receive him."
A cold wind swept through the corridor, and another log was added to the fire.
Moldavia was one of the four major human settlement clusters in the Great Aias Mountains of the Northern Lands. It bordered the Aias Mountain Range and the Black Forest. Although half the year was cold winter, due to volcanic ash and geothermal heat, the hills, plains, and forests near the mountains were very suitable for life. Thus, before humans arrived, this place had always been a paradise for magical beasts.
However, after humans came, the Black Forest here was uprooted generation after generation by colonists, completely transformed into a city cluster suitable for human habitation.
During this process, no one knew exactly how great a price humanity paid, but the originally semicircular Black Forest was split in two by a triangular gap. And in the newly built city, many more tombstones had been added to the cemetery.
The lord of Moldavia was the Radcliffe Family, Joshua's family. For generations, they had maintained good relations with the dwarves, jointly developing the precious minerals in the volcanic mountain range. Because of this, manufacturing and processing fine ores and weapons became the Radcliffe Family's main business.
However, due to the Northern climate, normal trade was only possible for half the year. During winter, they could only rely on dragon-cart merchants.
Using boiled snow water, Joshua tore off a strip of jerky and took a bite of hardtack, carefully experiencing the texture like sawdust and dirt, feeling his happiness drop by at least fifty points.
"If the pine trees in the Northern Lands weren't poisonous, I'd gnaw on bark instead—at least it would be fresh."
He knew many things—from the green bear beast in the Forest of Beginnings that even a novice could mindlessly defeat, to the Sky-Collapsing Dragon in the Permafrost Polar Circle that even twenty-four seasoned adventurers might not be able to clear. Even terrifying existences like the Giant Divine Soldiers of the Myriad Realms Sacrificial Ground and the Blue Frost Titan of the Wind-Eroded Summit, Joshua knew the simplest methods to defeat them all. There wasn't a single boss on the Continent of Strife he hadn't beaten.
In terms of combat, Joshua was an undisputed master-level figure. No one dared claim to know more than him—but beyond that, he was completely clueless.
As the overall boss and strongest fighter of the Far South's most powerful battle group, he only needed to charge in and obliterate the toughest enemies when necessary. As for other matters—diplomacy, strategic planning, developing members, dealing with minor enemies from other groups, and so on—Joshua had never paid attention to them, let alone life skills like cooking.
To be fair, in this life, Joshua was the son of a count and a mid-level officer—the kind of person who didn't need to cook for himself. And in reality, in his previous life, when he was still Josh, as the master of a martial arts dojo in a utopian world, although due to various reasons he had no disciples and could only sit alone in the dojo gathering dust, with robots around, it would never have fallen to him, a human, to cook.
In short, that was his excuse for not knowing how to cook!
"Clatter, clatter, clatter."
Suddenly, the sound of hooves came from the main road.
Swallowing the jerky and experiencing the sensation of swallowing sawdust once more, Joshua turned to look and saw a person riding fast, braving the heavy snow, heading toward the main city.
"Riding through the night in such heavy snow—must be in quite a hurry."
After finishing dinner and tidying everything up, Joshua felt his stamina rapidly recovering. He stretched his limbs, made sure the campfire had enough fuel, then leaned against a large tree, closing his eyes to rest.
The recent journey had been extremely arduous. Seventeen days of nonstop trekking had left even Joshua, who had reached the mortal limit of Silver Peak, feeling a hint of fatigue. Now, he emptied his thoughts, cleared his mind, and did his best to recover his energy.
Several hours passed. The snow stopped.
Joshua opened his eyes.
Accompanied by the rustling sound of leaves stirred by the cold wind, the clouds had dispersed at some unknown time. Now, in the night sky, two moons hung side by side—one blue, one white, like gems. A white star ring stretched across the night sky like a straight dividing line, splitting the black firmament in two. Countless stars dotted the night, shining with brilliant light.
"What a beautiful moonlit night."
Unable to help but praise, Joshua sighed with some emotion: "In the third version, when the Abyss was unsealed, the twin moons were corrupted and turned into Eyes of Terror. After that, such beautiful moonlight could never be seen again."
Although the future would be filled with strife, war, and slaughter, the Mycroft Continent was incredibly beautiful during times of peace. Even in the early days of the game, many new players registered accounts just to see the scenery, leveling up only to visit more dangerous places for the views. They were called the Tourism Faction. In the later stages of the game, most of them switched classes to Druid and joined the organization [World Restorers], dedicated to bringing those beautiful scenes back to the world.
Beautiful memories are always fleeting. Time passed, the twin moons set, and the sun rose. It was time to set out again.