Night Journey

Chapter 61 United Triangle
"Forged personally by the Heavenly Craftsman Iron Father?"

Cillian never imagined that the origin of the Boiling Sword was directly related to the Heavenly Craftsman Iron Father.

Before he could recover from his shock, Rolf continued.

"That was back in the Age of Rejuvenation. The Conqueror was forming a legion, preparing to launch an expedition into the dark world, but he discovered that most of the standard weapons were insufficient to support the Torchbearer's power."

Rolf polished the Boiling Sword until it gleamed and placed it horizontally on the dining table, like a dividing line separating the two.

"The torchbearer's fire is too bright and too hot. Many blades will melt into molten iron in the extreme burning. Therefore, the explorers commissioned the Iron Master to forge a batch of blades that are not afraid of fire and high temperature for the torchbearers."

Rolf rang the dining bell, and the wind-up servant filled him with a glass of fine wine.

"Tiangong Tiefu collected the damaged swords and armor of the torchbearers, threw them, still stained with blood, into the furnace, and smelted a pot of boiling molten iron. He then personally cut open his own wrist and injected his blood into it."

Rolf downed the wine in one gulp, his tone slightly tipsy, and his words tinged with a hazy quality.

"With supreme power, the Heavenly Craft Iron Father transformed the smelted metals, endowing them with power that defies the laws of reality."

This metal can only disintegrate at extremely low temperatures, and it becomes increasingly hard and sharp as the temperature rises.

"In other words, as long as the torchbearer's blood is still burning, it will never disintegrate or become dull."

Rolf picked up the knife and gently tapped the boiling sword, producing a crisp sound.

"At the same time, this metal also has extremely good conductivity, both for heat and energy..."

Rolf didn't continue speaking; a faint arc of electricity flashed across the knife, leaving a burning crimson glow.

He gently pierced the heated knife into the roasted chicken leg, making a sizzling sound.

"When the metal-forged blade is pierced into the enemy's body by the torchbearer's hands, the extreme temperature will instantly burn the enemy's flesh and blood to ashes, or even vaporize it, emitting a sizzling boiling sound."

Therefore, this metal was called a boiling metal, and the sword blades forged from it were simply named boiling swords.

The past events slowly unfolded before Cillian's eyes.

"All the Boiling Swords were forged during the first expedition, and then went through several expeditions and the upheavals of changing times."

Today, the vast majority of the Boiling Swords have been broken or lost in the dark world. The remaining Boiling Swords are no longer considered weapons, but rather sacred relics that record honor, hidden away by various clans in the deepest recesses of their collections, never to see the light of day.

Rolf laughed helplessly, "It seems you really don't know the history of the Boiling Sword, that you're using such a precious thing to slash and kill at will."

Cillian said something similar to Nunn's: "The purpose of the Boiling Sword is to slay enemies. If it is sealed in a display case, what difference is there between it and rusting away?"

"Not a bad answer."

Rolf examined the emblem on the hilt of the sword, the burning sunflower.

"If I'm not mistaken, your full name should be Cillian Yangkui."

Cillian's expression tightened, but he quickly regained his composure and responded.

"Sovrovia".

Cillian further explained, "Sovlowa means sunflower in an old language, so my full name should be Cillian Sovlowa."

“Oh, is that so?” Rolf nodded. “I also happened to come across the existence of the Yangkui Clan in a book and learned about your clan’s emblem.”

"It's hard to imagine that, as a clan of the ten Holy Blood members, the world has almost completely forgotten you after only a few hundred years."

Rolf added, "That's true. Since the Legion split, the Fire Keeper has controlled the civilized world. It's only natural that they would want to weaken the influence of the remnants of the Ember Army and make the world forget you."

Cillian did not respond, while Rolf remained silent for quite some time.

As the roast chicken on the plate gradually cooled and lost its heat, Rolf finally got ready and asked.

"Decades ago, I heard a rumor from the Holy City of the Sun that... the Yangkui Clan was completely wiped out."

But I'm right in front of you.

Cillian said firmly, "Cillian Soflowa is right in front of you."

Rolf nervously interlaced his fingers, and finally let out a long sigh.

"To be honest, I have some connection with your Yangkui clan."

Cillian asked in surprise, "What?"

“My teacher participated in that final, twelfth expedition, and the clan he accompanied was the Yangkui clan. It was for this reason that I learned of your existence in his journal.”

Rolf said slowly, "The teacher rarely talked about that expedition, and it wasn't mentioned in his journal. I asked him about it, but he wouldn't say a word, only saying that those memories should remain buried in his mind."

Cillian chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Is that so? Perhaps you know more about the Yangkui Clan than I do."

This time, Rolf was surprised. "Then your teacher is far too incompetent."

Cillian shook his head and said sadly.

"The teacher was very competent; he just... didn't have time."

Rolf sensed the sadness in Cillian's words, and then he thought of his noble bloodline, powerful enough to stop the spirit world from sinking, and the Boiling Sword, which was practically a sacred artifact...

He asked, "A lot has happened, hasn't it?"

“Yes, so many, it’s suffocating.” Cillian mimicked Rolf’s action, pressing the dining bell, and the clockwork servant poured him a glass of wine.

Do you have milk?

The clockwork servant understood his words and brought him another glass of milk.

Rolf laughed, "It's milk? I thought you'd get completely drunk."

"I'm not used to drinking alcohol."

Cillian shook his head, retrieved the Boiling Sword, and rubbed the sunflower emblem with his fingertips.

Suddenly, he thought of something, turned the Boiling Sword to the other side, revealing the equilateral triangle emblem formed by many kneeling figures.

"Since you know so much, do you know what this emblem represents?"

Rolf glanced at the equilateral triangle emblem, his expression turning serious, and asked in return.

"Are you teasing me?"

Cillian remained silent, his expression sincere.

Rolf said helplessly, "Don't you really understand?"

"I had a guess about what it represented, and I tried to look up relevant information, but it seemed to have become a taboo, only mentioned briefly in writing without any in-depth introduction... just like those evil things."

Having gone through so much, Ciri knew that what could be engraved on the Boiling Sword, besides the clan emblem of the Torchbearers, was the legion to which they served.

But this legion that saved the civilized world no longer even has a name in this day and age.

"For the evils of chaos, language has a magical power. Even if you just softly recite those cursed names or passages, it will attract the attention of the evils of chaos and even bring disaster."

Rolf murmured, “In this endless conflict, more and more taboos emerge, history becomes riddled with holes, and the world falls apart.”

As Ciri recalled the Legion's oath recited by Nunn, the chaos of the world stirred, like a pack of wolves ready to devour their prey.

He asked with lingering fear, "Did the failure of the twelfth expedition and the outbreak of the rebellion turn the legion itself into a taboo?"

Rolf snapped his fingers, and layers of iron walls rose up, clinging to the glass curtain wall, enveloping the bright dining room and turning the residence into a true fortress.

A dim light shone above their heads.

Having witnessed numerous clockwork servants, Cillian wouldn't be surprised if Rolf's residence stood up and transformed into a walking mechanical creation the next second.

“The Chaos Evils were driven to the brink of destruction by the Legion. If the twelfth expedition had succeeded, the world would be completely different now,” Rolf said regretfully. “But failure is failure. The Chaos Evils will never allow the civilized world to reunite and rebuild the Legion.”

Cillian thought of the Legion's division, "And at the same time, the civilized world is resisting yet another reunion, isn't it?"

"Who knows?"

Rolf did not give a clear answer, but simply repeated the phrase that Cillian was tired of hearing.

"This is an era of isolation."

The answer is obvious.

"As for the name of the legion."

Rolf spoke of names long forgotten by books and by the world.

"Oath of Allegiance".

He lowered his voice.

"The Oath-Taking Legion".

The moment the name of the Oath was uttered, a chill swept through him, as if a venomous snake had coiled around Cirion's throat, its cold scales scraping against his skin.

"This most stable triangle, formed by numerous figures, is the symbol of the Legion."

It is called the United Triangle.

Ciri stared at the Union triangle on the hilt of his sword, and the banner that Núnn had treasured came to mind.

That is the banner of the Oath-Taking Legion.

Cillian asked instinctively, "What exactly happened during the twelfth expedition?"

“My teacher knew something, but unfortunately, he died a long time ago.”

Rolf made a terrible joke, "Even with all the extracorporeal circulation and even mechanizing part of his brain, he still couldn't beat time."

“He didn’t reveal a single word until he connected himself to the brain of the Forging Court.”

"Later, I came to Hel City with the Forging Court."

Rolf snapped his fingers, the iron wall descended, sunlight streamed in, and the room was filled with a foul, fishy stench.

"Let's stop here for now, Cillian. We should get ourselves ready."

(End of this chapter)