Embers of the Deep Chapter 557 Trekking to the Apocalypse2

However, she now asked this question.

"We must indeed march forward," the warrior said gruffly, his heavy visor masking his expression, yet his tone was still resolute. "We must save our kingdom, stave off the spreading apocalypse."

"By trekking toward the apocalypse, can we truly halt the apocalypse itself? At that deep crimson end, does there really exist an enemy waiting for us to defeat? If we defeat it, will the problem be resolved? Just like the Prophet said?"

"The Prophet has never been wrong," the warrior stubbornly said.

After a mont of standoff, the Fla Warlock nodded. "I understand."

Three days later, as the team crossed an unnad forest, the Groska woman collapsed in a clearing by the river.

There was no enemy, no trap; she was consud by her own flas–uncontrolled arcane energy suddenly surged from within her, like countless living evil spirits, instantly tearing her apart and burning her to ashes. Her scream was brief, the pain perhaps montary.

The good news was that the uncontrolled fire burned thoroughly, eliminating the need for additional handling of her body—from those ashes, not a bone fragnt larger than a fingernail could be found.

Now, only two people were left in the team.

The Paladin, even more reticent than the previously deceased mage, and the warrior himself, ever clad in heavy armor, grew increasingly silent as the journey continued.

After fully entering the barbarian lands, they still moved straightforwardly without worrying about losing their way, for the deep crimson of the apocalypse forever pointed them in the direction of travel.

How long would this trek last? Where exactly was its endpoint? And what awaited those who trekked toward the apocalypse to confront their own fate?

In the eyes of the ever-marching warrior, under the red light, the world seed a bit more bizarre each day.

The tis of sunrise and sunset shifted significantly, and each day they shifted slightly towards a certain direction; the sun no longer set in the exact west, but had visibly shifted towards the north.

The sky was gradually stained an eerie purple-red, with occasional strange shadows erging deep within the clouds, and sotis, it seed as if living things moved among those shadows.

The distant mountains seed to start warping; cliffs that were once straight now appeared as if bent and wrinkled like damp wood. The horizon in the distance was rising like the whole land... was undergoing slight deformation.

Or perhaps, it was the Observer’s eyes that were failing.

And with these many visible strange phenona, changes that were invisible to the eye were also occurring—

The Arcane Energy between heaven and earth was undergoing eerie changes. Magic Power that was previously hard to perceive was now as active as a rushing stream. Mages had complained that it was hard to gather Arcane Energy outside the civilized world, but now, the morning breeze seed to carry dense Magic Power—this energy would induce minuscule glow and sparks on the surface of tal armors, which after accumulating to a certain extent, would snap with a sound.

The warrior felt that these changes might be signs that their journey was nearing its endpoint—they were close enough to the place where the red light fell, although it still looked so distant, yet hope... seed just before them.

However, in front of an unnad river, the Paladin stopped.

This tall, taciturn woman took off her helt, abruptly saying, "This is far enough."

The warrior calmly gazed at his last companion. "Why?"

"Aren’t you surprised?"

"I just want to know why," the warrior said, as ever, in a sowhat stubborn tone.

The Paladin paused for a second, pulling out a shattered Ruby from her bosom and placing it on the grass beside her.

"The kingdom is destroyed," she said. "Fire and magma surged from the depths of the earth, covering the entire kingdom within an hour. The Prophet’s soul held out to the last mont, confirming the end of everything."

Listening to this dreadful news, the warrior still stood quietly in place, calmly gazing into the Paladin’s eyes.

"This journey is aningless," the Paladin continued. "It was aningless from the start."

"The Prophet deceived us," the warrior slowly said.

"No, the Prophet deceived those who stayed in the kingdom," the Paladin softly began. "He made those who remained believe the kingdom had dispatched an elite team to resolve this anomaly, just like a hundred years ago when we sealed the awaken Eriphus from beneath the earth, just like seven hundred years ago when we ended the rule of the Frost Giants—the world would be saved by warriors, and if one warrior wasn’t enough, an army was ford of them."

"...The Prophet doesn’t make mistakes."

"Yes, just like you said, the Prophet doesn’t make mistakes—thus, he was the first person to know how the apocalypse would arrive."

The Paladin said this, extending her hand towards the ground beside her.

"Sit down, we’ve walked a long way."

The warrior didn’t move.

Unperturbed, the Paladin’s silence from the journey finally ended, and in this final tranquil dusk, she began to smile gently. "You, and many among us, realized all of this halfway through the journey."