Chapter 859: Two-Pronged Attack
“Your Majesty — Your Majesty?” Nightingale’s voice drew him back from wherever he’d drifted. “The City Hall Director is still waiting for your reply.”
He blinked. Barov stood near the door, patient in the particular way of men who have learned patience through long service. “I have it,” Roland said, passing the report across. “Proceed as you’ve outlined.”
“Yes.” Barov took the document, saluted, and added at the threshold: “Please take care of your health, Your Majesty.” Then he was gone.
The door closed. Roland looked at Nightingale. “Is it that obvious?”
“Your color is fine,” she said, considering him. “It’s more that you’ve been drifting more often lately. Is this connected to the Erosion in the Dream World?”
“The Dreamland doesn’t affect me. Not directly.” He shook his head. “There are things I saw there that I’m still turning over. Nothing urgent.”
“Good.” She pursed her lips as though she didn’t quite believe him, but chose not to press.
This was the fourth day since he’d returned from the Dream World. Faldi had successfully located the Martialist Association’s headquarters — the beetle had done its work — but Ling had been unable to infiltrate. She had reported it with the particular despair of someone cataloguing a failure she did not understand: there had been no concealment available anywhere in the facility, and some kind of luminous band had covered her constantly, glowing no matter how long she waited. Afterward, she had asked him formally to assign her a punishment, which he had refused.
The plan to bring the Taquila witches into the Dreamland had continued smoothly otherwise. But the things he had seen and heard in the Martialist Association’s underground hall had not settled.
Three things kept working at him.
First: the membrane theory. He had always understood the Dream World as a synthesis of his own memories and Zero’s — a self-consistent space built from their combined knowledge, following rules his mind could supply. Every anomaly in it had an explanation rooted in that framework. But what Lan had said exceeded anything in his knowledge. He knew the membrane theory existed; he had encountered the name in a popular context, enough to recognize it. He had never studied it. Unlike quantum mechanics, where he’d read at least a layperson’s account, the superstring derivations behind membrane theory were entirely outside what he could have generated from his own understanding.
And yet the screens in that hall had shown derivations that were internally consistent, complex, and clearly reasoned.
A high school student who dreams the Grand Unification Theory. That was what it had felt like.
As though something in the Dreamland was growing in directions he had not specified and could not follow.
Second: the Chief Disciple herself. After Garcia’s reminder about martialist senses, Roland had reviewed the interaction. Lan had appeared to speak directly to him, in a normal conversational register — not a whisper. If she had spoken at that volume, the defenders on either side of the platform would have heard. The front rows would have heard. In that hall, with enhanced perception everywhere, a conversation at that level would have drawn attention. And yet not one person had looked over, not one head had turned.
Garcia, who could count his beard hairs from her seat in the back, had seen nothing.
Third: Listen carefully to what I’m going to say next — it might help you.
How would knowledge of membrane theory and the origin of the Erosion help him specifically? He was not planning to become a crusading martialist. Even if he devoted himself entirely to the Association’s purpose, the foundational physics wouldn’t grant him any advantage. The warning was directional in a way that made no sense unless Lan knew something particular about who he was and what he was dealing with.
All of it added up to a single unpleasant conclusion: the Dream World had changed. Something was operating in it that he had not put there.
He intended to suspend his visits once all the God’s Punishment Witches had had their turn. The Battle of Divine Will was approaching. Carelessness now would cost more than caution would.
“Your Majesty?” Nightingale again, with urgency this time. “You’re drifting.”
“Sorry.” He shook himself. “I’ve had more to think about lately. I’m just tired.”
She looked at him from her perch on the edge of the table. “I feel like there’s something behind that.”
“There isn’t.”
“The Dream World witches…” She tipped her head. “You and those twenty-odd women — I can’t follow you in there. Can’t watch over you. They’ve been conscious for the first time in hundreds of years, and they’d naturally want to recover all the feelings they missed. How do you manage when they all press toward you at once?”
He stared at her. “Where do you get these ideas?”
“I’m just asking.” She covered her mouth, barely concealing her amusement. “Someone else asked me to bring it up.”
“Who —”
A knock at the office door. He swallowed the question. “Come in.”
The door opened. A tall man walked through it with the unhurried economy of someone who has spent his life being efficient about the use of his body — closed the door, snapped his heels together, raised his hand in salute.
“Your Majesty, Iron Axe reporting.”
The journey from Port of Clearwater to Neverwinter ran four or five days by boat. It was not an easy journey. Nothing on Iron Axe’s face suggested he had taken it — his eyes held the fixed clarity of someone who has not slept because he has been thinking, not because he has been suffering.
“Good.” Roland nodded. “You’ve been briefed on the campaign plan?”
“Brian outlined it.” Iron Axe lowered his hand. “The First Army divides into two columns — eastern and western — to reclaim Graycastle, then cross the border and strike Kingdom of Dawn’s Glow City.” A pause. “What I don’t understand: if Brian is assuming my garrison duties and protecting Miss Echo at Port of Clearwater, who commands the Eastern Front?”
He had apparently already decided he was commanding the Western Front. Roland found that he was smiling without meaning to.
“Brian lacks experience for an independent command in the field. Garrisoning is within his ability. Leading an entire army in active campaign — there’s too much room for error.” Roland met his eyes. “The Eastern Front Army is yours.”
Iron Axe was briefly still. “Then the Western Front —”
“I’ll lead it personally,” Roland said.
Chapter 859: Two-Pronged Attack
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
…
“Your Majesty… Your Majesty?” Nightingale’s voice woke Roland from his daze. “The City Hall Director is still waiting for your reply.”
“Ah, I already know about this,” said Roland as he blinked his eyes, trying to concentrate. He handed over the report in his hand to Barov and said, “Let’s proceed according to what you said.”
“Yes,” said Barov. As he saluted Roland, he also solemnly added a sentence before leaving. “Please take care of your health, Your Majesty.”
After the chief left the office, Roland asked Nightingale, “Does my face really look that bad?”
“Well, you look okay,” said the latter after some deliberation, “it’s just that you’ve been daydreaming more recently. Could this be related to the Erosion of the Dream World?”
Roland shook his head. “The changes in Dreamland can’t really affect me. It’s just a few strange things in retrospect that have been bothering me. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“That’s good to know,” said Nightingale while she pursed her lips.
This was already the fourth day since he had left the Dreamland. Although Faldi had succeeded in locating the headquarter of the association, Ling had failed to sneak into it—according to her, there had never been a place like that one. It was built underground, but it had been impossible for her to find
any hiding spot there and some shiny “light band” had covered her head. It had just kept glowing, no matter how long she had waited.
Afterward, Ling had even despondently requested for Roland to punish her for failing her task, but naturally, Roland had refused to do so.
The next play plan had been executed smoothly, and Roland had brought more Taquila witches into his Dreamland, but what he had seen and heard in the headquarters that day still troubled him immensely.
The whole incident had so many strange factors that could not be explained.
The first was the conclusion about the membrane world.
He had always believed that the Dream World would present a modern society filled with the Force of Nature in order to integrate both his and Zero’s memories and keep his internal government self-consistent. In other words, no matter how many weird phenomena there were, they were all rules based on the needs of being self-consistent—most of these rules came from his consciousness, which he understood and was able to accept.
However, those words spoken by the Chief Disciple Lan completely exceeded the scope of his knowledge reserve.
The only thing Roland knew about the membrane theory was that it evolved from the superstring theory. These two theories were particularly profound and he had never carried out in-depth reading on them. Unlike Quantum mechanics, he had at least read through one or two popular books about it. In the Dream World, these theories should have been hidden as if they were invisible, just like those blank books that only had covers.
However, both Lan’s explanation and the derivation formulas and evidence displayed in the lobby screens seemed to be logical—this was the first time he saw something totally unintelligible in the Dreamland, as if a High school student had dreamed about the Grand Unification Theory in physics which was absurd and incredible.
This even made him think that the Dream World today was completely different from the world when he had first entered.
As if something was growing wildly out of his sight.
Another weird thing was the Chief Disciple herself.
After Garcia had reminded Roland, he had recalled that the vision, hearing and reaction of the martialists was better than ordinary people. If Lan had spoken to him on the stage, not only would the defenders, but even the first two rows of new people in the lobby have been able to hear something. But the fact was that no one at that time had shifted their attention to them. It had not sounded like a whisper to him, yet, surprisingly, it had not attracted any attention. At that time, he had not paid any attention to this point. But later on, when he thought about it, he questioned why a newcomer who was shown special attention by the Chief Disciple did not cause public concern?
The things Lan said also left him scratching his head.
“Listen carefully to what I’m going to say next as it might help you!”
How would the knowledge about the origin of the Erosion, the relationship between the martialists and the Fallen Evils help him? Even if he wholeheartedly wanted to join the association and become a savior of the world, knowing these would still not be important to him, right?
All these weird signs made Roland form some resistance toward the Dream World. He intended to temporarily stop the connection with Dreamland, once all the God’s Punishment Witches had gone in once to enjoy themselves.
It would be better to behave cautiously whilst the Battle of Divine Will was approaching.
“Your Majesty?” Nightingale’s voice once again could be heard, but this time with some urgency. “You look like you’re in a daze again.”
“Ahem, I’m fine,” Roland shook his head and threw his distractions behind him. “It’s just that I’ve got a little more things to consider lately and so I’m a
little sleepy.”
“But why do I feel that you’re hiding something behind those words,” Nightingale sat on the table, propped her feet up and said, “don’t tell me that in the Dream World, you and the witches…”
“That’s impossible!” He suddenly felt dumbfounded. “I just took them to experience the taste of different flavors only!”
“Well… that’s true,” Nightingale blinked and revealed a cunning smile. “I’m a bit worried about that world that I can’t enter. There’s no way to protect you at all times, and in case they suddenly make trouble, that would be problematic. After all, they’ve passed hundreds of years of unconscious days. And now that they’ve finally recovered their senses, I’m sure they would try to revisit all their past feelings. But that’s more than 20 women. How could you cope if they all swarmed towards you?”
“You’re getting more ridiculous.” Roland glared at her and said, “Who did you get these ideas from? Can’t you spend more energy on studying?”
Nightingale covered her mouth and said, “I was just joking.”
“If I had your ability, it’d surely remind me loudly that you were lying,” Roland snorted and said, “from the very beginning, you wanted to ask this, right?”
“Well, I admit it… But this was not just my own opinion,” Nightingale stuck her tongue out. “I was also asked by someone else to raise this question.”
“Asked by someone else?” Roland did not have the time to ask who it was as there was knocking on the office door.
He had to temporarily withdraw his questions and said, “Come in.”
The door opened and a tall man quickly walked in, neatly closed his legs and then raised his hands to salute Roland. “Your Majesty, Iron Axe is here to report to you!”
From Port of Clearwater to Neverwinter took almost four or five days, and by boat it was a rather laborious thing. But on the face of this foreign officer, he could not see a trace of exhaustion. His eyes reflected an energy that was full of war spirit.
“Fine,” Roland nodded reassuringly. “I think you already know about Neverwinter’s combat plans?”
“I’ve heard Brian talking about it,” said Iron Axe. “The First Corps will be divided into two roads from east and west to regain Graycastle before crossing the border, and striking Kingdom of Dawn’s Glow City. But there’s something that I don’t understand. If you asked Brian to take over my task and stay in the Port of Clearwater to protect Miss Echo, who’s responsible for the Eastern Front?”
It seems that even before the task had been assigned, Iron Axe had already placed the responsibility of leading the Western Front attack on his shoulders. Roland could not help but smile. “Brian is still lacking in experience. Leading a garrison isn’t a problem, but he could still be prone to accidents if he had to lead an entire army alone, so Eastern Front Army will be your responsibility.”
Iron Axe was slightly stunned and replied, “Then what about the Western Front…”
“I’ll lead it personally,” said Roland slowly.