Chapter 415: Solan
Even if we don’t count the need for a young mage’s help to enter the One-Line Sky Gorge, retracing our steps without one is almost impossible…
It’s not that they want to cling to Leon, it’s just that there’s no other way.
It’s not just Dalson who’s anxious—Dean and Rolf are even more so. But what good does worrying do…
"Employer?"
Hearing this, Leon couldn’t help but laugh: "Was it someone from the Caucasus who hired you to come to the Turin Mountains, or is it a royal descendant of the Third Dynasty?"
Before Leon even finished speaking, Dalson and the others stared at him in disbelief, their faces full of shock.
"The Caucasus has been destitute ever since it broke away from the Black Tower three hundred years ago. They couldn’t possibly afford to hire the three major mercenary companies! That only leaves the royal descendants of the Third Dynasty. Most of them are now concentrated in the Adela Kingdom and the Odin Kingdom. So, tell me—was your employer from Adela, or Odin?" Leon ignored their stunned expressions and casually laid out his deduction.
"Archmage Merlin, you—you… how did you know?"
If they were just surprised before, now Dalson and the others looked like cats whose tails had just been stepped on. Dalson, especially, was pale as a ghost as he stared at Leon.
The secret they were desperately trying to hide was casually exposed by Leon—how could they not be shocked?
"As for how I know all this, I don’t owe you a full report, do I? Just answer my question: Adela or Odin?" Leon frowned, clearly impatient.
Figuring all this out wasn’t difficult for him at all.
Dalson and the others hemmed and hawed, afraid to reveal their true purpose in the Turin Mountains—a glaring red flag in itself. Never mind anything else, Leon had saved the mercenary company twice now, which was a huge favor. Even if the secret involved their interests, the three major mercenary companies should’ve at least let something slip.
Most people in this era only know that the King of the Caucasus and the Long-Legged Emperor fought deep in the Turin Mountains. But few realize their duel was settled in Skyline Gorge—only the Caucasus and the royal descendants of the Third Dynasty are privy to that.
And right now, the Caucasus is flat broke—there’s no way they could afford to hire the three major mercenary companies.
So, that only leaves the royal descendants of the Third Dynasty.
Relations between the Odin Kingdom, Adela Kingdom, and Andalusia Kingdom are anything but friendly. Especially Odin, which borders Andalusia—their conflicts never end, and in the past decade, war could break out at any moment.
If the ones who hired the three mercenary companies really were from Odin or Adela, then their actions could practically be called treason…
"Odin…"
Those two short syllables seemed to drain every ounce of strength from Dalson. As soon as he spoke, he buried his head. "A mysterious man, wrapped head to toe in black cloth, suddenly approached our captain and claimed to be a royal descendant of the Third Dynasty—he’s from the Odin Kingdom. He gave our captain a fragment of a map and sent us deep into the Turin Mountains to retrieve something, promising a price we simply couldn’t refuse…"
"Archmage Merlin, we truly didn’t mean to keep this from you. You know as well as anyone that relations between Odin and Andalusia have been getting worse, and for something this shady, the fewer people know, the better." Dalson took a deep breath, meeting Leon’s gaze earnestly. "Archmage Merlin, if you think this is too risky, you’re welcome to withdraw. The Apocalypse Mercenary Company will never forget your kindness…"
So it really was Odin…
The branch of the Third Dynasty’s royal descendants in Odin now wields astonishing influence—they’ve already seized the throne. Offering a price the three major mercenary companies couldn’t refuse makes perfect sense. At this, Leon smiled faintly, eyes locked on Dalson. "A fragment of a map? Let me see…"
Dalson quickly fished a palm-sized map fragment from his pocket and slapped it onto the table. Then his gaze shifted to Dean and Rolf, as if hinting at something.
"We have one too…"
Embarrassed by Dalson’s pointed look, Dean and Rolf finally hung their heads and each produced a fragment of a map, placing them on the table. Rolf glanced at Leon and explained, "That mysterious man Dalson mentioned actually came to Dean and me as well, and gave us map fragments too. It wasn’t until the night we were attacked by wyverns that we realized how dangerous the Turin Mountains are. A single mercenary company could never survive here, so not long after, we decided to join forces…"
Leon said nothing, just stared intently at the three map fragments in the center of the table. After a while, to everyone’s surprise, he pulled out two more fragments from his coat and laid them down. As the pieces joined, every eye was drawn to the table—they formed a complete map!
Huh?
Once the map was complete, Leon’s attention was immediately drawn to a small blank area, about the size of a fingernail. There was no damage, no markings, but oddly enough, nothing was recorded there. After a few glances, he looked away, offering no explanation for the source of his two fragments. He simply said, "We leave at dawn!"
Before this, if the three major mercenary companies had tried to drag him along to Skyline Gorge, he would’ve flipped out without hesitation—damn it, if you want to die, why bring me along?
But now, he had no choice but to go…
Because that blank spot on the map was exactly where Skyline Gorge was located. And Skyline Gorge, of course, was where the King of the Caucasus and the Long-Legged Emperor settled their score—there’s a good chance something the King left behind is hidden there…
The Sixfold Meditation Codex—its importance can’t be overstated. Words don’t do it justice.
(This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Please click next page to continue reading!)
Even if it was just a guess, not yet confirmed, he had to investigate for himself.
Early the next morning, the three major mercenary companies set out in full force for Skyline Gorge. They quickly covered several kilometers and formally entered the canyon—only to be immediately swarmed by packs of magical beasts. The monsters weren’t too high-level, around seventeen or eighteen, and there were nearly a hundred of them.
After more than half an hour of bloody fighting, they cleared the battlefield and began to rest where they stood.
But just then, a black figure descended from the sky.
"Who are you?"
The unexpected visitor’s arrival startled many. Archers nocked their arrows, mages and swordsmen tensed, ready to unleash a brutal assault at the slightest threat.
The newcomer said nothing, his gaze icy as he swept the crowd. He cleared his throat, and a raspy voice rang out: "Bring your captain and vice-captain to see me."
Just one look from him sent a chill down the mercenaries’ spines—like being stared down by a venomous snake.
Dalson and the others had been discussing something when they got the report. They hurried over, caught a distant glimpse, and were instantly shocked—they recognized the man.
"Lord Solan, what a coincidence—you’re here too? May I ask what you need from us?" Dalson strolled up, his tone relaxed, sizing up Solan as he spoke. He’d heard plenty about Solan Monty, the Black Tower’s famous prodigy, now returned from the Azure Plane as a Title Archmage.
"Quite the coincidence…" Solan Monty shot Dalson a cold look, forcing a dry laugh. "Nothing urgent, really. It’s just, Skyline Gorge is crawling with danger. I’m worried your three mercenary companies might get wiped out, so I’m here to invite you to join the Black Tower’s team. What do you say?"
"Not interested…" Dalson’s expression darkened. Of course he understood what Solan Monty was really saying. It was polite enough, but the meaning was clear: he wanted the three mercenary companies as cannon fodder.
Otherwise, why would he bother inviting them to join the Black Tower’s team out of the goodness of his heart? That’s not how it works…
The Black Tower and Cloudspire Tower are two of Andalusia’s greatest mage factions—their power is beyond words. Sure, the three mercenary companies are top-tier, but compared to the Black Tower, they’re in a whole different league…
On a normal day, swallowing their pride and putting up with it wouldn’t be a big deal… but right now, the three mercenary companies have no choice but to refuse the Black Tower. If they went along, how would they ever find what they owe their employer?
"Lord Monty, sorry, but our three mercenary companies have urgent business to handle—we really can’t join the Black Tower’s team. Apologies, but thanks for the offer." Dean had been standing nearby, and he immediately stepped forward, face cold, to reject Solan Monty.
"Dean’s right…" Rolf came up as well.
"I told you—Skyline Gorge is full of danger. If you don’t join the Black Tower’s team, you risk total annihilation…" Solan Monty sneered, his words now openly threatening.
To him, compared to the Black Tower, the three mercenary companies are nobodies. He figured being a little polite would have them jumping at the chance to agree, but things didn’t go as he expected…
"Whether we get wiped out or not is our business, not the Black Tower’s…" Dalson’s smile was long gone. Sure, he feared the Black Tower’s power, but having a mere second-tier Title Archmage boss him around was too much to swallow…
The Black Tower is strong, sure—but you’re just a second-tier Title Archmage, hiding behind their name to throw your weight around! Who do you think you are? You don’t speak for the Black Tower!
Dalson was already cursing him out in his heart.