Knight Lords: Infinite Simulation and the Path of Light

Chapter 231 Loss and Passing Away
If you had investigated more diligently back then, would the situation be different now...?

As Frederick IV finished speaking, Haven fell into deep thought, his gaze sweeping over the ruined scene. Under the protection of the crowd, two elderly people sat blankly beside his cousin Benjamin.

After quickly bandaging the wound, I began to see off my mother, who was attending the wedding today.

Despite being covered in injuries himself, Haven's gaze returned to Benjamin and Eloise, who were lying flat on the ground and covered by a white sheet, after he had looked around the room.

Haven suddenly felt a sense of suffocation, exhaustion, physical pain, and mental torment. This was not what he wanted. He had only wanted to come to the capital to study leisurely, live happily for a few years, and then go back to inherit his title.

"My campus life... I haven't graduated yet! The courses at the Royal Academy..."

Frederick IV chuckled at Haven's current behavior. Having spent a long time with Haven, Frederick IV knew all too well what kind of personality this little white lion had. Whether it was for the sake of the empire's future or for his feelings for his friend Kevin, Frederick IV had to do what an imperial ruler and an elder should do.

"Courses can be postponed, but knowledge can be acquired through practice."

Frederick IV interrupted him, speaking faster and with an undeniable force.

"Is the safety of the empire, the lives of countless innocent people, including the hatred of your maternal family, not worth as much as a few books lying in the library?"

Think of the people who died here today! Think of your cousin Benjamin! Think of the nobles who fell in pools of blood! Think of the guests who died in terror! Isn't their blood enough to rouse your complacent 'student' mentality?

Some will die this time, some will die next time, and you'll only start to regret it when you've seen how many people you know die.

Frederick IV's voice struck Haven's heart like a heavy hammer.

Benjamin's gloomy eyes, Mrs. Windsor's heart-wrenching cries, his own mother's despair in the face of death, and the bloodstains on the floor...

These images instantly overwhelmed him, and a torrent of anger, sadness, and intense guilt swept away the psychological defenses he had been trying to maintain by running away and getting by.

Frederick IV keenly noticed the wavering in Hevent's eyes, softened his tone, and spoke with an almost seductive sincerity:

"I won't let you get caught up in the mess of MI8 and have to scheme against those old foxes."

I'm giving you the title of 'Special Inspector,' independent of the existing MI8 system. You'll be responsible only to me. Gene's intelligence analysis department will fully cooperate with you. Chris's Watchmen, the Construct Swordsmen, and even the Royal Griffin Knights can all be your allies when you need them.

You possess the highest investigative authority, allowing you to access archives at any level within the Empire and request cooperation from any department. Your sole task is to resolve the issue to a level you deem safe; the specifics of how you proceed are entirely up to you.

"Special Inspector..."

Haven murmured the title over and over, his weary mind struggling to weigh the pros and cons: absolute independent authority, accountability only to the emperor, the convenience of mobilizing vast resources…

This is indeed a position that allows him to act freely and without constraints. But it also means that he will be completely thrust from the relatively peaceful (though not entirely peaceful) academy life into the eye of the storm at the forefront of the confrontation between imperial politics and dark forces.

Frederick IV waited quietly, knowing the time was right. He saw the warrior's resentment and anger ignited in Havent's eyes, and he also saw the sense of responsibility and duty as the heir to the North ultimately overwhelm the thought of escape.

Haven took a deep breath, the cold air mixed with the smell of blood filling his lungs, bringing a stinging sensation, but also clearing his chaotic thoughts.

Raising his head, he met Frederick IV's deep gaze. His gray-green eyes were still weary, but deep within them burned a cold and resolute flame.

"it is good."

After giving an affirmative answer, the confusion in Haven's eyes lessened considerably, and he appeared more determined.

A genuine smile finally appeared in Frederick IV's eyes, though the depths of that smile remained as cold as iron.

"very good."

He then took out a dark gold badge from his robes, its design ancient yet radiating a subtle magical aura. At the center of the badge was a griffin with outstretched wings and sharp eyes, surrounded by patterns of thorns and swords.

"Take it, but don't give it back to me too easily this time, Chief Inspector Haven."

Haven reached out his blood-stained and dust-covered hand and accepted the heavy badge. The icy touch spread through his fingertips.

"Alright, I'm leaving now. Right now, it's important for you to quietly lick your wounds. As for the investigation, you can decide when to start it yourself."

After gently patting Havent on the shoulder twice more, Frederick IV turned and walked toward the Marquis of Cavendish. After exchanging a few more pleasantries with the old marquis, he left Cavendish Estate under the guard of the Royal Guard.

He looked down at the silver badge in his hand again, clenched his fist tightly, and then put it into his storage ring.

As the guests gradually left, only the MI8 investigators remained at the inspection site, gathering intelligence.

Feeling utterly exhausted, Haven moved a chair to sit on the ground. As his eyelids grew heavier, Haven fell asleep in the chair.

In his sleep, those recurring images and the voices calling out to him reappeared. This time, Havent clearly saw those images and the people calling out to him.

The next moment, Haven seemed to have arrived in an extremely unfamiliar place...

The cold stone bench hurt Haven painfully; even through his clothes, the chill seemed to seep into his bones.

However, this pain and cold seemed so insignificant compared to the dull, tearing pain deep in my heart and the heavy weariness on my soul.

Almost the instant he sat down, his eyelids felt as heavy as lead. The surrounding noise—the hushed discussions of MI8 personnel, the faint, suppressed sobs in the distance, and the rustling sounds of cleaning up the scene—quickly blurred, receded, and finally faded into silence.

Darkness, pure, suffocating darkness.

But the darkness did not last long. A familiar yet strange dizziness swept over me, as if my soul had been abruptly ripped from my weary body and thrown into a chaotic vortex.

Haven's heart sank—that long-dormant, bizarre dream had returned! And it was more intense, more...real than ever before.

No longer were they blurry fragments of light and shadow, no longer distant and ethereal cries. This time, he felt as if he were truly standing in a place.

Beneath your feet are cold, hard, massive stones, each bearing deep dents left by time and battle, exuding a rusty smell and an indescribable odor of sulfur and decay.

The wind howled shrilly in my ears, whipping up tiny pebbles that lashed my cheeks, causing a real stinging pain.

Raising my head, I saw a colossal city, its magnificence beyond description, standing before me. Its walls soared into the clouds, seemingly carved from a single piece of mountain rock, their surfaces covered with ancient and powerful defensive runes, now shimmering with a faint yet resilient magical glow, resisting the terrifying pressure from the outside world.

The source of the pressure lies beneath the city walls.

In the distance, a colossal, despair-inducing dark purple rift, like a gruesome wound ripped open by the earth and oozing pus and blood, stretched across the giant city's path. Thick, ink-like darkness churned within the rift, not pure black, but emanating a disturbing, soul-devouring dark purple light.

The light flickered like breathing, and with each "breath," indescribable monsters would gush out of the crack as if vomiting.

The monsters were distorted in form, defying Havent's understanding of the laws governing the construction of all living beings.

Some resembled countless wriggling, tooth-covered tentacles intertwined into fleshy clumps, emitting a sickeningly wet, rubbing sound.

Some resemble giant beasts stripped of their skin, leaving only muscles and bones, with their joints twisted in the opposite direction, making a cracking sound of dislocated bones when they run.

Others are simply a rolling shadow emitting corrosive smoke, which makes even hard rocks hiss as it passes by.

Monsters surged forth relentlessly, like a filthy tide, frantically assaulting the rune-shimmering walls of the giant city, gnawing at the defenses with claws, fangs, acid, and pure dark energy.

On the city wall, shadowy figures could be seen.

Countless warriors fought valiantly, clad in armor of varying styles, yet all shimmering with powerful magical light. Wielding a variety of weapons, they unleashed deadly spells, arrows, and blades upon the monstrous torrent below the city.

Explosions, roars, magical booms, and the clash of weapons mingled together, creating a tragic and desperate symphony. The air was thick with the stench of blood, burnt flesh, and the suffocating stench of sulfur and decay emanating from the cracks.

Haven felt like an invisible ghost, floating above the city walls, overlooking the brutal, apocalyptic war. His gaze swept over the figures fighting on the battlefield.

They came from different races—humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, Janna, and even strange life forms he had never seen before.

Every face was etched with exhaustion, determination, and deep despair, yet they continued to fight for the land behind them, which appeared incredibly fragile under the purple light.

Just then, Haven's gaze was drawn to a particularly fierce battle on the city wall.

Several exceptionally tall figures, seemingly commanders or powerful individuals, stood with their backs to Haven, working together to fend off a fierce attack from a group of enormous monsters that resembled a hybrid of giant insects and spiders.

One of the elders, clad in a robe shimmering with starlight, brandished a staff, each swing creating ripples in space that twisted and tore the monster apart.
Another orc, resembling a heavily armed warrior with bulging muscles like a rock, wielded a massive warhammer engulfed in flames; each strike sent tremors through the earth.
Hidden behind the orc was a silver-haired elf, whose movements were elegant and swift as the wind. Her slender twin swords danced in a blur of silver light, precisely slicing through the monster's joints and vital points.

Just as the battle reached a stalemate, and one of the monsters' massive pincers was about to tear apart the figure wielding two swords, the figure clad in a star-patterned robe suddenly jolted, as if sensing something extremely important.

The old man fought back the monster in front of him with all his might, then suddenly turned around! The old mage's face was exceptionally clear in Havent's "sight".

It was an old man, his face etched with wisdom and the marks of time, his gray beard fluttering in the wind, and his deep eyes that seemed to pierce through time and space, now penetrating the chaotic battlefield and the barriers of space, "looking" with unparalleled precision at Haven's location!

His eyes were filled with endless weariness, but deeper still, there was an urgency and plea that Haven knew all too well, as if burning with the very essence of life!
Immediately afterwards, the other two powerful figures who were fighting also seemed to be drawn by invisible threads, and at the same time sensed Havent's presence.

The two men struggled to repel their enemies and turned around together. The orc giant wielding a warhammer had bloodshot eyes, like an enraged lion; the silver-haired elf wielding two swords had a cold face and sharp eyes like an eagle. They both "looked" at Havent!

Three pairs of eyes, transcending the boundaries between dreams and reality, carrying the scent of gunpowder and blood from the battlefield, locked onto Havent, who was in a floating soul state.

An unimaginably vast spiritual force crashed into Havent's consciousness like a tsunami. It was no longer a vague whisper, but a crystal-clear, thunderous roar, each word carrying the power to tear apart the soul.
"Will!!!!!"

"Will—!!!"

The shouts intensified, becoming more urgent and filled with a near-collapse-like despair.

"You're finally here!!! Hurry! Hurry!!!"

The old man in the star-patterned robes didn't move his lips, but the roar of his will was deafening. He stretched out a withered finger, not pointing at the monsters below the city, but at the distant horizon behind the giant city, a direction that appeared blurry under the light of the purple cracks.

"To the Golden City!!!"

The giant wielding the warhammer roared like muffled thunder as he swung the hammer and knocked the monster back once more.

"Go back! Go back and change all of this! Now!!!"

"Only you! Only the Golden City can change all this! Go—Will—!!!"

The three thoughts eventually converged into a desperate and mournful sound, like the final death knell, striking heavily on Haven's soul!
"Ugh—!"

Haven jolted upright in bed, letting out a suppressed cry of pain. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, as if it would burst through his ribs. He gasped for breath, the icy air bringing a sharp, clearing sensation to his lungs, but unable to dispel the terrifying images and those three soul-rending screams that haunted his mind.

"Will?!..."

Haven instinctively clutched his chest, muttering the word under his breath. It was a name he'd just randomly chosen, yet it was being called out so clearly, even though he didn't know them at all…

"Golden City???"

What is that? Feeling a splitting headache, Haven tugged at his hair hard.

Why does that sound so familiar?

Hearing the noise coming from the room, the bedroom door opened, and Lori peeked inside. Seeing that Haven was awake, she exclaimed in surprise:

"Brother Haven, you're awake! You've been asleep for two days."

Haven took the water glass from Lori, drank the water, and felt a little better, then looked at Lori.

"Two days? That long?"

"Yes, yes~ Louise's mother was extremely worried, but the doctor came to check and said that you just had excessive mental energy consumption."

"Oh, I see. How's things at home?"

Upon hearing Haven's question, Lori's previously joyful face immediately lost its smile.

"So many people died in my family, even Ms. Su Lin died in the attack."

As soon as Lori finished speaking, Havent's movements visibly stiffened for a moment, then he let out a long sigh.

"Oh, I see. Let's go, take me to see it..."

(End of this chapter)