Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 459 Is the battle over?

Dickens soon ran out of conversation, mainly because his experience chatting with Linger was really bad. Every answer he made seemed to hit the point, but it also seemed like he said nothing. After listening to him, one could not help but think, "That's it." If the age difference was not too much, Dickens really wanted to ask him if he had spent quite some time in the House of Lords of the Kingdom, otherwise where did he learn such a brilliant conversational skill?
It is said that the officials in the House of Lords can argue for a whole day in the magnificent palace. In addition to fierce verbal confrontations, they sometimes use fistfights to express their strong wishes and opinions. But when they tidy up their messy clothes, lean on their canes, and walk out of the house gracefully, if you ask them what topic they discussed, they will look at you arrogantly and shake their heads reservedly, which means that they didn't discuss anything.

Yes, they argued fiercely and fought fiercely, but they themselves did not know what they were arguing about and why they were fighting. It seemed that the conclusions and opinions were not important, and the "discussing state affairs" itself was the most important thing. They just wanted to let outsiders know that they were working hard for state affairs. To be honest, this kind of thing was incomprehensible and unimaginable to Dickens, who was used to the precise and efficient administrative efficiency within the association.

If we simply apply this principle to this young man, we can understand that the content of the conversation and his answers are not important. What is important is only the "chat". It is enough for him to keep the conversation going.

What a cunning young man.

After figuring this out, Dickens laughed dumbly. When he realized that he couldn't get more information from Lingge, he gave up the idea and turned his attention to the girls beside the young man. After noticing his gaze, Saint Xia Liya's first reaction was to step forward, blocking Olvera and Leticia behind her, and looking up at him, with a firm look in her silent eyes.

Dickens was stunned for a moment, then he looked thoughtful: he probably guessed which one of the seven saints of the Creation Goddess Cult in the past this blue-haired girl was.

After all, memories will be washed away by the river of time, but the essence of the soul will not change.

Olvera hid behind Saint Shalia, next to Metien and Leticia, and Alice, who was studying the game console with a frown on her face. She noticed that her sister's shoulders seemed to be shaking, so she raised the lantern in her hand to shine a little. The dim light shone through the foggy glass lamp wall, revealing a few drops of sweat dripping down her graceful neck, as pale as snowflakes. The princess asked worriedly, "Saint Shalia, are you... okay?"

Saint Xia Liya pursed her thin lips and felt her throat dry, like a cracked riverbed after drying. She was afraid that her voice would be too hoarse and would scare her sister, so she did not speak, but just shook her head silently, so lightly that it even made people feel that her smooth curved profile had hardly moved.

Olvera felt that there must be something wrong. Was she worried or pretending to be strong? Maybe she was observing the threads of fate that she couldn't see at all, trying to find a way for everyone to escape safely? But she couldn't do anything. The only thing she could do was to move the lantern closer, hoping that the weak flame could bring her some tangible warmth and make her face less pale.

If this happens again next time, should I stay on Sky Island and not go on adventures with everyone else? Although I said I was here to help, it seems that I was not able to help at all.

Olvera thought with some disappointment.

……

Dickens had no intention of chatting with him anymore, and Linger naturally would not take the initiative to bring up the topic, and the scene fell into an eerie silence. The night was as silent as death, and any subtle noises around could be easily captured by the ears, from the sound of the first yellow leaf on the branch slowly falling in the bleak wind, to the trivial gnawing of an unknown insect gnawing at the edge of the leaf in the bushes... all of them were clearer and more piercing than the heartbeat and breathing, and even set off an indescribable sense of gloom. Strangely, the sound of falling leaves and insects eating nearby would seem noisy, but the rumbling artillery fire in the swamp was so illusory and incredibly distant, as if it was not a war happening in front of them, but happening in a place that could not be seen or touched, a country that was extremely far away from everyone. The muffled bombardment like thunder, the dense volleys like a rainstorm, the sour sound of sharp blades cutting through flesh and bones, the harsh sound of claws falling on metal armor, the magic knights advancing in unison, the aliens fleeing in panic and wailing, and the huge wolf opening its bloody mouth that was cracked to the ear roots and letting out a long and ancient howl, wanting to devour all visible and invisible things and awaken the ancestral memories sleeping in the blood vessels... These sounds related to war are blocked in another world, where a brutal massacre is taking place that has nothing to do with anyone, but is closely related to the fate of the entire world.

Saint Shalia found that the uneasy feeling was getting stronger.

"Space is collapsing." Christian looked up and saw dark cracks tearing through space everywhere in the night sky. Endless and ethereal power surged through them, making people feel heavy breathing and slow heartbeats just by looking at them. She couldn't help but feel panic and scream in her mind. She immediately retracted her gaze and lowered her voice, saying, "Lord Fei'er's power is beginning to get out of control. There are still thirty seconds left before the five-minute deadline."

"It seems that Gundaruf's resistance is a little more stubborn than expected." Dickens paused, and then said: "But there is no need to worry, there is plenty of time, and I believe Your Majesty will also..."

Before he finished speaking, a long and shrill howl suddenly came from the direction of the swamp, like the howling of a stray wolf. The boiling sound spread throughout the peninsula in an instant, making the dark world tremble. In the Harbor of Rain, the citizens who had long been sleeping were awakened from their dreams by the wolf howl. They lit oil lamps and walked out of their homes, looking at the sparse stars that appeared and disappeared between the steel domes. Feelings of uneasiness and panic gradually spread; as far as the cold lantern city of Martial on the edge of the peninsula, the night crows cried on the oldest lighthouse, flapped their wings and flew away, condensing into a large heavy black cloud on the turbulent sea. In the most surging tide sound, it seemed that the wolf's mumbling was still echoing all the time.

This reminds people of the time more than a hundred years ago, when darkness was brighter than any other time. The city was like a prison in the quiet night. Robbers, thieves and killers roamed in the dark corners of the alleys. Rats gnawed at people's bones, greedily eating the remaining warmth in their blood vessels. The pedestrians on the street were all haggard, like dried-up zombies. There was no trace of human spirit in their eyes, and they just lived numbly. The taciturn mafia, with a pistol hidden in the pocket of his suit, stood under the withered branches like a silent statue. When he saw the target getting off the carriage with the golden lion and silver shield emblem, he raised his hand and sent a bullet to his heart.

At the same time, there are many figures in the strange stories of the countryside of the Shiqilia Peninsula: werewolves leaping under the moon, vampires with black bat wings, deer-headed spirits feeding on human brains, eagle-headed monsters that descend from the sky to abduct children, and brutal lions that can tear people in half... They emerge one by one and gradually become clearer. Their memories exist with this dark time and always follow them.

Human society has been destroyed, conquered, and ruled, but in the end, the fire of civilization still burns brightly, burning every inch of ashes in the darkness. Those who light the fire also declare a silent judgment on these aliens.

Thus, this shrill wolf howl lasted only a very short moment. Almost at the same moment when the eardrums of people just started to swell and produce a stinging feeling, a sharp cracking sound suddenly rang out from the distant and desolate howl, as if a sword broke in the bones, or armor broke in the flames. The wolf's howl stopped abruptly, like the interlude of a piece of music being cut off by someone, and the next moment, there was no sound at all.

The people of the peninsula have been shrouded in darkness since the Middle Ages, and the painful memories of history since the birth of civilization will never be repeated a second time, because the ancient families destined to rule this peninsula will not have a second chance to be reborn from the ashes of blood and fire.

Dickens looked up and said to Christian and Ronning, "It looks like the battle is over."

Christian stared at his pocket watch and nodded silently. The time shown on it showed that there were still... fifteen seconds left before the agreed five minutes.

　Give me some meow
　　
　
(End of this chapter)