Chapter Sixty-Four: The Situation in the Upper District (Part Three)

War...

The Glorious One mulled over this word, which was far from unfamiliar, with a complex heart.

Yes—

It was not unfamiliar at all.

Although, ever since the Ancients faded away, the vast dominion of Order had only one Throne, the flames and smoke of war between Order and Chaos had never truly ceased. From the construction of the Wall of Eternal Night, to the invasions from the Mist of the Nameless, and then to the blind, maddened surges of the Sea of Chaos.

War was the eternal theme of the world.

Compared to the lands of Order shrouded in endless night, compared to the grand river of history, the battles waged in Hemtica between the cults of Chaos, the Orders, and the Glorious Ones seemed insignificant—so small as to barely feel real, so small that the records of history might not even bother to mention them, passing by with only a few scant lines.

But—

Hemtica was ultimately different; it was the place that had nurtured him, the place he called home.

He simply could not let go...

He let out a deep sigh and turned his gaze to the youth beside him. After a brief pause, he finally spoke. “From what you’re saying, it seems the situation is rather dire.”

“That’s right,” the handsome youth from the Dice House made no attempt to withhold information now, laying out all that he knew. “Dire is putting it mildly; if you want to be bleak about it, you could call it… rotten.”

“Even the combined forces of the Glorious Ones and the Order can’t eradicate the cult of Chaos?” Amy Ulysses raised his brows in disbelief—no matter how many dark nobles had come to reinforce them from elsewhere, how could the cult of Chaos, suppressed by the Council for hundreds of years, suddenly rise to rival the two greatest powers of Hemtica? It was neither possible nor realistic.

The girl at his side didn’t speak, but simply fixed her emerald eyes on the golden-haired, blue-eyed youth, waiting for his answer as well.

“I’m just a lowly informant from the lower district. How could I know so much?” Under the weight of their gazes, Dick scratched his head. “But… word has it that some sort of biological weapon has appeared on the battlefield in the upper district—something so fearsome that even multiple Swordbearers working with Glorious Ones can’t overcome it.”

“Is it an artificial fiend?” Amy immediately thought of this possibility.

“I wouldn’t know,” Dick shook his head. “All I’ve heard is that the big shots in the upper district call them… Incarnations of Calamity.”

“Pandora.” The name, unfamiliar to the Glorious One, struck a chord with the Swordbearer of the Order. She pressed her lips together, pale from blood loss, and her always-cool voice now carried an uncharacteristic quiver.

“What is that?” Amy asked.

“The true leadership of the cult of Chaos,” after a brief pause, Mia’s voice returned to its usual calm. “A witch capable of overturning a city single-handedly.”

After a long silence, the young Glorious One finally spoke, his voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s a rather straightforward introduction.”

Such power was somewhat beyond his comprehension—the Glorious Ones had no clear hierarchy. Though they possessed extraordinary physiques and had received the most orthodox combat training from childhood, victory or defeat was rarely determined by such “dead” things. What mattered most was the exploitation and application of one’s abilities. Sometimes, even when there was a vast difference in physique or skill, with keen use of one’s abilities and the advantage of asymmetric information, it was entirely possible for the weak to defeat the strong.

Take himself, for example: the Omen of Death was an incredibly practical ability. Even faced with a paragon of strength like one of the dark nobles, he was confident he could at least survive. But if he were up against a high-level fiend from the underworld, one capable of spawning an endless tide of monsters, he could think of nothing but running for his life.

To annihilate a city single-handedly.

In other words… a dark noble known as “Pandora” not only possessed terrifying raw power, but more frightening still, she probably had no weaknesses at all.

It was a strength as overwhelming as the collapse of the heavens.

Even thinking of such a possibility gave the Glorious One the feeling of an ant gazing up at a towering mountain.

The chasm did not merely inspire a sense of insignificance, but also—unexpectedly—a yearning to surpass and conquer it. When such a mountain stood as one’s foe, this feeling became especially pronounced; his entire being, body and soul, was suffused with a burning heat, as if a blazing fire had been kindled within, shining and searing of its own accord.

How I wish I could return to the upper district...

His emotions surged like a volcano on the verge of eruption, yet his reason remained as cold and still as a northern lake in winter—battle was no child’s game, but a walk on a tightrope over an abyss with his life at stake. One misstep and the shadow of death would descend as surely as night.

And “Pandora” was, by any measure, not an enemy he could face now.

Yet he too had reasons he could not simply run away.

—Yulia Ulysses.

He had anticipated the war in the upper district might become a stalemate, but he had never expected that monsters capable of destroying a city alone would join the fray. If things truly deteriorated… he could hardly feel at ease leaving his sister in the Tower Supreme—even if, should the Tower Supreme itself become unsafe, there might be nowhere in all Hemtica left to shelter them. Still, he felt that keeping her by his side was perhaps best.

Though the power of an individual was insignificant before the vast sweep of fate, he couldn’t help but have such thoughts—perhaps it was a kind of mysterious self-confidence.

He shook his head.

This gesture, however, was interpreted by the Swordbearer as a sign of timidity. She explained earnestly, “There’s no need to worry too much. Hemtica is not as fragile as you imagine.”

“Mm.” Amy nodded. He didn’t hide his intentions. “But after I finish business here, I still plan to return to the upper district.”

In truth, since he had decided to return, whether he involved himself in the affairs of the lower district made little difference. From the start, his goal had merely been to muddy the waters and carve out a place for himself. The only reason he hadn’t already left was the thought, “The rest are just minor rabble,” “It’s nearly over, and abandoning Mia now would be rather rude.”

“Though it may not be the best time,” Dick of the Dice House interjected suddenly, “I must remind you, the passage between the upper and lower districts has been closed—as of three days ago.”

“The reason?” The Swordbearer from the Order immediately asked.

“The big shots in the upper district felt things had gotten out of control and decided to use physical means to contain the spread of chaos—something like that.” The golden-haired, blue-eyed youth paused and added, none too responsibly, “Of course, that’s just my guess.”

“By ‘physical means,’ you mean?” Amy began to suspect the worst.

“The city gate’s drive system was deliberately sabotaged. Until the repair crew fixes it, unless you grow wings, no one can cross the ‘Wall of Sighs,’” Dick sighed. “Steam power was never reliable, and no one’s going to risk repairs before the war ends. In other words, unless the upper district’s war is decided, there’ll be no contact at all between the two areas.”

“What about food?” As far as the Glorious One knew, the upper district had very little farmland and limited reserves; they were always dependent on supplies from below. “At the rate the upper district produces grain, in three to five days they’d be facing a food crisis.”

“Food won’t be a problem.” Dick’s answer was a cold one. “Production might not drop much, perhaps even shrink considerably, but those who need food… are few.”

“How few?” Amy felt a chill of foreboding.

“About a tenth—or less.” The golden-haired youth paused. “The Throne of Order collapsed entirely soon after the war began. In a matter of days, the whole world descended into chaos; desire, unshackled, gave way to looting, murder… Atrocities that suddenly needed no excuse. The first thing the marauders did was turn their blades on their own people.”

“That’s far too quick, isn’t it?” The Glorious One raised his brows, unable to accept Dick’s explanation. “Order wasn’t built in a day. Under Duke’s iron rule, the social framework of morals and law shouldn’t have collapsed so easily, so quickly.”

“Perhaps.” Dick spread his hands. “But any deeper reason, I can’t provide. After all, I’m just a peddler of information from the lower district.”

“The whispers of the Evil God.” Mia gave an unexpected answer at that moment. “It’s one of Pandora’s innate abilities—she can beguile and manipulate hearts. Not just ordinary folk; even many ascetics can’t fully resist her psychic influence.”

“Psychic interference?” The Glorious One was well aware of how troublesome such powers could be, but to affect at least half the upper district at once… That was almost beyond belief. “No wonder. But surely the Council should have countermeasures for this sort of thing.”

Psychic abilities were rare—classified as ‘special’—but in all Hemtica, though those capable of rewriting minds were few and far between, they were certainly not “unique” or “unprecedented.” Yet none of them could do anything about Pandora’s mind control—the order in the upper district was left to rot.

It was not an optimistic outlook.

He thought this, and narrowed his eyes.