Chapter 1184 Remaining Legacies
Chapter 1184 Remaining Legacies
Mister White led the group through the ruins, the echoes of ancient lives still palpable in the crumbling stone. He paused at the entrance of a grand temple; its facade eroded but still whispering of past glory.
"Here lies a memory," he said, his voice tinged with unusual melancholy. "A memory of love and sorrow, intertwined with the very history of the Yalen Kingdom itself."
As they stepped into the dim interior, Arthur felt a prickle along his spine. The air felt different, charged with a sense of longing and regret. He approached the pedestal at the temple's heart, and as instructed, laid his hand upon it.
The coolness of the stone was replaced by a gentle warmth, and then a flicker of images overwhelmed his senses. Instead of the decaying ruin, he saw a resplendent palace, its halls abuzz with the preparations for a royal wedding.
At the center of it all stood a young prince, his eyes filled with joyous anticipation. His bride-to-be, however, was not a regal princess, but a woman of common birth. Her beauty was not that of finery or noble blood, but in the radiant smile she wore and the quiet determination in her eyes.
The scene shifted. The joyous celebration dissolved into chaos. Angry shouts pierced the air, and the king – the prince's own father – stood in bitter opposition to the union. He scoffed at the woman, declaring her unworthy of his son, of their royal lineage.
Arthur watched as the prince fought for his love, his pleas falling on deaf ears. The king's decree was absolute; the wedding was annulled, the lovers torn apart. Yet, even as the woman was banished from the kingdom, her eyes met the prince's in silent defiance, a promise held in their depths.
The years shifted, becoming a blur of fleeting images. The prince, though surrounded by opulence, was trapped in a palace that felt more like a prison. He withdrew, his once bright eyes shadowed with loss. Yet, there was a flicker of defiance in them as well.
Arthur saw the prince surrounded by ancient texts, his fingers tracing intricate patterns in the air. He was a descendant of a lineage of seers, and he used their forgotten knowledge, not for power, but for a glimpse of the woman he'd never forgotten.
The vision flickered. He saw the woman in a simple cottage, her hands worn with labor, her attire plain. Yet, her spirit remained unbroken. She tended her modest garden, a quiet strength in her movements. And always, at a specific hour, she would pause and gaze towards the direction of the palace, as if sensing the prince's own invisible watch.
The memory faded, leaving Arthur with an unshakeable feeling of bittersweet sorrow. The prince and his common love were separated by circumstance, bound by a devotion that transcended power and status.
"As I suspected, you have a sincere heart as well," said Mister White when Arthur returned, looking at the palace with mixed emotions. "I thought I was the chosen one to carry her memory, but I might have been chosen to bring you here."
With practiced ease, he began weaving a complex series of runes. The air shimmered around Joe, Razor, and a few others, their figures suffused with a faint blue glow. He poured mana into the constructs, strengthening their bodies and enhancing their agility.
The smugglers reacted with surprise and exhilaration. Joe, seasoned veteran that he was, let out a low whistle. "My lord, this power…" he murmured, flexing his now-bulging muscles.
Bolstered by Arthur's gift, the skirmish transformed. Joe dashed forward with uncanny speed, dodging a blast of fire from the Eggy Knight with a dancer's grace. His rifle roared, sending mana-infused bullets that cracked the egg's armored shell.
Razor was a blur of motion, his enhanced agility turning him into a whirling dervish. His twin blades pierced the knight's defenses, leaving glowing gashes in their wake. The other empowered smugglers moved with similar coordination, their attacks landing with renewed ferocity.
The Eggy Knight, outmatched and overwhelmed, flailed its arms. Its elemental attacks grew erratic, a desperate bid against the onslaught. Arthur watched, a faint smile on his lips. He wasn't merely boosting his team – he was bearing witness to the camaraderie and skill that made these men such an effective force.
With a final, earth-shaking blow from Sarohan, empowered by Arthur's rune, the Eggy Knight shattered. It collapsed into a heap of shell fragments, revealing a cluster of Gravity Fruits nestled in a thorny bush.
"Marvelous!" Mister White exclaimed, his eyes widening in delight. "Such power, and so generously shared!"
The smugglers gathered around the fruits, basking in the adrenaline rush of victory. Sarohan slung an arm around Arthur's shoulder, booming laughter echoing through the ruins.
"Let's get to the next island!" Mister White announced after the excitement died down. "Perhaps we'll find even more surprises!"
Energized and buoyed by their success, the group took to the skies once more. Below them, the egg-shaped island with its memories faded into the distance. Ahead lay a new horizon – and Arthur found himself anticipating the next challenge. This dungeon was more than just a stepping stone; it was an adventure, a tapestry of strange encounters and unexpected wonders.
As they reached the next island, Arthur's senses tingled. Nestled among the crumbling walls was a simple cottage, a wisp of smoke curling from its chimney. It seemed oddly out of place, yet a familiar feeling resonated from it. "Inside that cottage lies another memory," Mister White said, his gaze fixed on the humble structure. He turned to his men. "Be warned. This one is far more protected than the last."
The smugglers immediately grew serious, checking their weapons. A sense of foreboding hung over the island, and the sight of dozens of egg-shaped creatures swarming around the cottage confirmed this wasn't going to be a simple treasure hunt.
Arthur watched the armies patrolling the island, protecting the cottage with such zeal that brought a realization to his mind. This dungeon seemed to resolve around the story of the woman and her lover, but would that mean the dungeon itself was constructed by one of them?
The smugglers raised their mana rifles, prepared to land. Arthur once again used his runes to strengthen them and their guns. Oriole was waiting for him, so he could not waste time fighting eggs.