Above The Sky -
Chapter 138 - 138 EX Emperor and Knight_2
138: EX Emperor and Knight_2 138: EX Emperor and Knight_2 “I have always been your knight,”
…
“Hiliard, let’s go, take me to a place.”
“All right.
Wait, you want to go to the far south border?
The coastal mountain area of Harrison Bay…
That’s too dangerous!”
“With your protection, where would be dangerous?
Let’s go.”
“…There’s nothing different here, except the sea is light green, very clear, and there are many large coconut trees and redwood trees along the coast, nothing particularly special.”
“What you’ve described is already beautiful, learn to appreciate them.
Hiliard, look, do you see any huge and profound shadowy outlines on the seabed in the distance?
With your strength, you should be able to see them more clearly than I can.”
“Yes, indeed there is, its outline is square and majestic, like a collapsed sky pillar…
wait, is that a man-made object?
Is that a relic from a previous era’s civilization?!”
“Yes, these are the remains of the ‘Orbital Space Elevator’ and the ‘Equatorial Orbital Accelerator’ that the past civilization of Terra built on the Tela Stationary Orbit.
They once marked humanity’s path to Above the Sky, but now they lie submerged in the sea, leaving only rotting wreckage, becoming dens for the creatures of the ocean.”
“Incredible…
humans could actually create such a grand structure, even the high towers of the Imperial Capital are not one ten-thousandth of it…”
“Hiliard.”
“Your Majesty?”
“From here, we must once again expand the frontiers of humankind…
We shall start right here, from this wild land, to return to Above the Sky!”
“…Is this your true wish, Your Majesty?”
“To rebuild the space orbital elevator and accelerator requires a complete advanced industrial system, a whole set of research institutions, the most advanced materials science laboratories, and a government that can coordinate all departments.
It calls for countless well-clothed and well-fed citizens to dedicate their wealth, millions of intellectuals to contribute their intellects, tens of thousands of different manufacturers to supply the best components.”
“It needs too much, too much…
In short, only a great civilization can accomplish it.”
“And only such a great civilization can step into the void!”
“Your Majesty, you are crying.”
“I am just overjoyed…
Hiliard, finally, finally, we…
have finally taken the first step.”
And it was the last step.
“Because we have failed.”
In the Scorched Flame July, the summer night was boiling hot, with a full moon hanging high, but few stars above the firmament; the once-brilliant Milky Way had lost much of its light, obscured by layers of black mist.
But the scorching wind from the Fiery Flame Land’s desert came swiftly, igniting this star-scarce dark night.
Perhaps it was the absence of starlight that made the moon’s glow brighter than ever, almost like another sun.
The knight, covered in dust and blood, emerged from the jungle, gasping as he stepped from the profound darkness into a lake shore bathed in moonlight.
He was utterly exhausted, with black blood crusts on his cracked lips, his scar-covered face almost despairing.
The man with slightly brown eyes appeared strong, his long black hair lush, without a trace of thinning—this was the symbol of a man’s ambition and power.
But he was spiritless, merely forcing himself to keep going, so he did not kneel, ready to be slaughtered.
Fleeing from the heart of The Empire to the southern coastal mountains, enduring countless attacks along the way, even the most robust man could not withstand it, especially since he had been infected with the Ice Prison Calamity Ash, and his life was supposed to be brief.
The breeze skimmed the lake surface, causing the sparkling ripples to sway, and the reflection in the water with its dim eyes gave a despondent smile.
For ten years, we have cleared the wilderness of Magical Beasts with our swords, deterring foreign enemies.
For twenty years, we used the plough to ensure our people were well-fed, hiding wealth among populace.
For thirty years, we unfolded countless documents and textbooks to revive a nation on the brink of collapse, turning the ignorant children of yesteryear into pillars of society.
With this, civilization and order will be restored to the central Terra Continent once more, and we have lit the torch.
If one says this torch that illuminates all creatures requires fuel, then it surely contains our marrow and blood.
To establish order, to rebuild a desolate and decaying land into a revived nation, required many people to give their all, to toil and fight for thirty years.
We have declined, we have suffered, we have exhausted ourselves, squeezing out all of life and passion, offering countless sacrifices.
But in the end, after achieving it, we knew that it was all worth it—finally, we brought peace to the world, and my children could play and laugh without worrying whether their tomorrow’s food would be mixed with sand.
“But we failed,”
the Knight murmured lowly, as if mocking himself.
Such magnificent deeds.
To destroy it only took a moment of bewitchment.
A night without stars.
The Knight would forever remember that day.
During the blood moon, when the firmament was devoid of stars, mist permeated the Imperial Capital, noises flooded the court, and the fluctuations of Spirit Energy shook the Imperial Center, everyone knew that an upheaval that would sweep across the entire Terra Continent was about to erupt from this point.
Enemies of unknown origin were almost everywhere, highly equipped, with astonishing martial prowess, guarding every vital passage of the palace.
The Knight fought a bloody path through almost half of the Imperial Capital to reach the center of the battlefield.
But it was too late.
He only had to close his eyes, and he would still remember the moment that crushed all his dreams and strength—
“Hurry, Hiliard,”
the man upon the throne appeared unscathed, but his originally radiant eyes, brimming with Spirit Energy, were now completely dim, like a night sky without stars, manifesting a mortal wound to a Spirit Energy User.
His voice was weak but extremely firm, and beneath him lay numerous corpses with blood oozing from their mouths and noses, many of which bore faces familiar to the Knight, even the Empire’s Crown Prince…
was among them.
Upon seeing the Knight burst into the hall, the man mustered his last strength to stand up and bellowed, “Leave this place!”
The Knight stood tall, his sword held in front of his Lord, like a towering mountain: “I’m not going anywhere, Your Majesty.”
“I’ve been struck by the Ice Prison Calamity Ash, my death is certain, and now is the time to die for righteousness.”
“Hiliard…” The man on the throne hesitated slightly, but still insisted, “You can live, take this with you.”
As he finished speaking, he took out a tiny silver chip from his chest, gazing into his palm, the man’s gaze was like staring at hope, “You must have always been curious, how I came to possess so much extraordinary knowledge, and how I could rise from an illegitimate son, a nobody, to become the Emperor that stands before you now…”
“This is the source.
Hiliard, whether you use it yourself or hide it away, it would be best to find a successor for it, but don’t let it fall into the hands of these madmen…
Go!”
A pale blue ripple surged from his fingertips, flowing into the Knight’s forehead, and in just an instant, the terrifying epidemic that ravaged his body was suppressed.
But before the Knight could feel elated and astonished, the man’s head on the throne drooped down, only his outstretched hand remaining straight.
The Silver Chip was glowing.
And the Emperor was dead.
He didn’t have the chance to recount more; the immense pressure of the Spirit Energy battle, enough to shatter one’s spirit, had completely crushed his mind.
The body on the throne was still breathing, but it was no more than a walking corpse.
…
Opening his eyes, the man broke free from the distant memories.
Atop Sigh Cliff, leaning against the damp rock, the aged man lifted his right arm, gazing down with a drooping gaze at the small silver chip in his own hand.
And a young man from the White Folks who was slowly regaining his senses, his breathing gradually becoming steady.
The lightless dark night seemed to envelop everything, as if shrouding the starless and moonless night, echoing only with the lonely winds, everything was all too similar.
Yet there was one difference…
This time, he had no regrets.
Space-time seemed interwoven, the old man’s gaze steadfast upon them, as if looking upon hope.
“Your Majesty, you have indeed departed,”
the Knight known as Hiliard Lesi murmured softly, his fist clenched tight, holding hope within his grasp: “But I am your Knight.”
“And always will be.”
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