Chapter 3225 The Fourth Warrior

Months before, the Oracle of Thetis had issued a summons to the rulers and champions of the peaceful kingdom.

Soon enough, they gathered in the inner sanctum of the Temple of Fate, where three priestesses sat behind the veil.

One of them was a young girl, one was a mature woman, and one so old that she seemed like a crumbling statue made of sand.

All three were blind, and yet they saw more than any mortal could.

They were the voices of the Oracle, after all.

The king — a man with wise eyes who had the bearing of a scholar — bowed reverently before the priestesses, and then knelt.

“We have received the summons. What message does the Oracle have?"

Behind him were the most prominent people of Thetis — warriors, ship-builders, philosophers, artisans, and more.

The priestesses spoke, their voices effortlessly intertwining to create a peculiar, melodious sound — as though it was fate itself speaking, not merely three mortal women.

“The Oracle has shared two truths."

“The Oracle is leaving."

"Prepare for war."

The king froze, shocked by the two revelations. He did not know which one had shocked him most — the fact that the Oracle, who had been the Supreme patron of Thetis since the day of its creation, was leaving... or that they had to steel themselves for war.

Behind him, the sanctum exploded with a hum of voices.

Glancing over his shoulder, the king frowned.

"Silence!"

The the rest obeyed his command, allowing silence to return.

Exhaling slowly, he turned around to the thin veil that obscured the figures of the three priestesses.

He had never been a fearful man, but now, he felt the need to gather his courage before asking the next question:

“What... what does it mean? What war?"

After a long pause, a childish voice spoke:

"It is the war against War."

The king flinched.

‘War... against War?’

His expression turned ugly.

One did not need to guess in order to understand the meaning of this revelation. It meant that the Empire of War, which had been devouring realm after realm somewhere far away, had finally set its sights on Thetis. The king was dismayed, since no one had expected that to happen so soon — at the current rate of expansion, the Empire was not poised to reach them until centuries later.

Even then, most believed either that the war would never happen or that they would be able to reach a peaceful resolution. Fate had other plans, it seemed.

But if that was true, then didn't they need the Oracle more desperately than ever before?

The king closed his eyes for a moment.

“Then why did the Oracle leave?"

A mature voice responded him a moment later:

"She left to ensure that we win."

An old, feeble voice added:

"She left to gather allies that will save Thetis."

The king was a pious man. How could he not be? The Oracle, despite her nebulous nature, had been the guardian of Thetis for centuries — in fact, numerous believed that Thetis would not have existed without her, since this land used to be tainted by a harrowing plague of spreading Corruption once. Therefore, the Oracle was beloved and revered by her people.

And yet, for the first time in his life, he could not help but doubt her words.

The king believed that the Oracle had left in search of help, hoping to enlist the aid of powerful allies.

But he doubted that there were beings powerful enough to repel the Empire of War anywhere in the mortal realms. Trembling, he gritted his teeth and asked:

“What allies does the Oracle seek? Who can save Thetis from the clutches of the Empire, and how vast an army would they need to assemble in order to face the endless legions of War?"

Once again, the three priestesses responded.

“The Oracle does not seek an army."

"The Oracle seeks champions."

“She only seeks four."

There was a hum of voices behind the king. This time, he did not silence his people. Instead, confused and wary, he asked:

“Only four champions? How can this be?! Who are these four heroes then, those who can defeat War?"

There was a long stretch of silence.

Then, the childish voice spoke:

“One Who Brings Light, the Tyrant of Compassion, the Eternal Flame, the First Ruler... the nephilim, White Abyss."

The mature voice continued:

"The Shattered One, He Who Observes, the Companion of Hope... the mirror wraith, King of Nothing.”

The old voice was next.

“The Blessed of Dread, the Truth Keeper, the Lady of Sin... the gorgeous monster, Jade Queen."

And finally, all three voices resounded together, sending shivers running down the king's spine.

“The Rightful Heir of Death, the Bastard Son of Fate, the Apostle of Ruin... the shadow, Lost from Light!"

***

“By the Moon..."

On a cloudless night, a startled voice resounded on the upper floor of the Ivory Tower.

The full moon was traveling across the velvet sky, and its silver light spilled into the spacious chamber. The figure of a man was outlined by the light, his long hair tied carelessly by a ribbon. There was a miserable expression on his face.

The man was miserable because he was wearing black, and he had been forced to wear black because, tonight, his mission was to sneak into the Ivory Tower.

No matter how he loathed his current garment, none of his usual clothes were suitable for creeping in the darkness of the night.

Hence, the black attire.

At the moment, however, Noctis all but forgot about his misery.

‘I know that I am mad — the maddest man in all of the Kingdom of Hope, no less! — but am I that mad?'

No, his eyes were not deceiving him.

“So there's indeed someone living in the Ivory Tower..."

The traces of a person inhabiting the chamber were subtle, but unmistakable. Noctis glanced around in bewilderment, then walked over to the stairs and descended to the floor below.

There, the traces were not even subtle anymore.

Everywhere he glanced, peculiar things were scattered on the floor. Sheets of paper covered with peculiar letters he did not know; shards of broken mirrors and mysterious instruments. There were even broken dolls the size of adult humans and intricate porcelain limbs, as well as numerous items he would struggle to describe, let alone identify.

Looking at the mess, Noctis was dismayed. He felt like his title as the maddest man in all of the Kingdom of Hope was under threat.

“Is anyone here?"

He did not bother lowering his voice, so it echoed wildly between the stone walls. There were a few seconds of silence. Then, an ominous voice resounded from behind him.

“What if nobody is here?"

Noctis spun around, staring at the man in front of him.

Then, he grinned.

"My, my! Greetings, friend. Oh, but I must say — I like you a lot!"

In fact, even though they had just met, Noctis had to admit that he liked this man more than almost anyone he had seen before.

That was because the man had peculiar, mirror-like eyes. When Noctis glanced at him, he saw his own reflection. Two of them, no less!

What was there not to like?

“Allow me to introduce myself, friend. I am Noctis, the Crimson Beast of Twilight — the greatest sorcerer and handsomest man in all of the Kingdom of Hope."

The man studied him with an indifferent expression.

"You are one of the Chain Lords."

As he said that, a dreadful malice flashed in his mirror-like eyes.

Noctis grinned.

“Indeed, I am. Therefore... you know what that means, don't you? I am immortal, so trying to kill me would be a tiring and senseless feat."

The man tilted his head a little.

"Well, I don't know... there are fates far worse than death, after all. Being immortal won't save you from those."

Noctis's grin turned a little forced.

“Why are we talking about such unpleasant things? In any case, I have already introduced myself. Won't you return the favor, friend? I feel like I am at a disadvantage."

The man remained silent, studying him emotionlessly.

Noctis coughed.

"On second thought, no need! I already know who you are. You are the King of Nothing, aren't you?"

Finally, the man showed a reaction. The mask of indifference slipped from his face, and he pierced Noctis with an intense gaze.

“How do you know that?"

Exposed to his eerie presence, Noctis let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, it's actually a funny story...”

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

“I have this friend, you see. Her name is Nem — although most people know her simply as the One in the North. Nem fares from a faraway land, where she was a priestess once. That land always has three priestesses — a girl, a woman, and an old hag. Once the girl matures, she replaces the woman, who takes the place of the old hag after the old hag dies."

The King of Nothing blinked, confused.

“Can you get to the point?"

Noctis gave him a resentful glance.

“l am getting there! Anyway, all three priestesses serve the Oracle, and Nem was the Oracle's personal disciple — she was rescued by her and raised as her own. But, for whatever reason, Nem did not replace the older priestess when time came. Instead, she left the temple to wander the mortal realms, slaying Creatures of Corruption until her fame was almost — but not quite, naturally — as immense as mine. That was when Sun God got us both, and we became immortal."

The King of Nothing frowned.

“You don't sound very fond of Sun God, and neither do you seem to enjoy your immortality. Why did you agree to become a Chain Lord, then?"

Noctis laughed.

"Me? Well, that is because I am the most agreeable man in the world, naturally!"

But then, he glanced at the King of Nothing with a hint of wistfulness.

“To tell you the truth, a friend once warned me against doing such stupid things. But when push came to shove... I figured that if I didn't agree, some other fool would. And that poor fool would not be nearly as radiant or gorgeous as me, so how would they endure the weight of eternity that had been meant for me?"

There was a dark depth to his voice, as if he was not telling everything. However, a moment later, Noctis was smiling again.

“Well, anyway! We seem to have steered away from the core of this riveting conversation. The point is... recently, Nem received a message from her beloved teacher and mother figure, the Oracle. The Oracle asked her to pass you a message, and since I had some gambling debt... I mean, since I am known for being very generous — the most generous man in all of the Kingdom of Hope, no less! — she asked me to do it in her stead. So, here I am."

His smile grew into a grin, and Noctis glanced at the King of Nothing with contentment.

The King of Nothing sighed.

"The Oracle, you say. So, what does she want this time?"

Noctis cleared his throat.

"To tell you the truth, friend, I don't quite understand the message myself. It is this — come and pay respect to the Queen."

The King of Nothing frowned, then turned and glanced west.

“Ravenheart..."

Then, he chuckled chillingly.

“l am sorry to disappoint you, but I am quite comfortable right here. So, tell your friend that I refuse."

Noctis blinked a couple of times.

"Amazing. She truly is the Oracle!"

Mordret's frown returned.

“What do you mean?"

Noctis shook his head.

"No, it's just that I wasn't entirely honest. The message was actually a bit longer — the Oracle knew exactly how you would respond, so she instructed Nem to deliver the second part of the message after you refused the first."

The King of Nothing sighed and fell silent. Eventually, he said:

“Go on, then. Tell me the second part."

Noctis shrugged.

“She said to tell you that she knows how to end the nightmare."

He paused for a moment, then said compassionately:

“Are you having trouble with sleep, friend? Have you tried... drinking? I find that getting lethally drunk helps one fall asleep splendidly!"

The King of Nothing did not answer, but turned to look west once more.

His expression was grim.

After remaining silent for a long while, he cursed.

“Damn it... why can't I ever say no to her?"