The black sun hangs high

Chapter 226 Saint Steel's Letter
Time flies, and sometimes it drags.

For the soldiers who had finally been rotated out from the brutal front lines, the peaceful and relaxing rest time passed in the blink of an eye.

For those lives struggling to survive on the battlefield amidst the raging gunfire, every minute, every whistling of a crystal bullet, every breath mixed with the stench of blood and earth, could lead to an eternal slumber.

In the two months following the full-scale outbreak of war, the loss of life became the second most important topic of conversation, after the changing nature of the war.

All participants in the war, whether they are the major kingdoms or the duchies that depend on the kingdoms, now clearly feel the true intensity of the war.

Like a plant seedling that has been suffocating under the soil for a long time, people's understanding of magic, steam, weaponry, and tactics, after being nourished by blood, broke through the soil with an extremely fierce momentum and grew towards the dark sky above.

As the war progressed, the magic and steam technology that both sides relied on inevitably began to merge and exchange. Of course, these passive changes ultimately led to even more tragic deaths.

The first batch of replica steam-powered firearms, spearheaded by the Black River Duchy's weapons workshop, has been deployed to the battlefield and will undergo field testing on the front lines. Meanwhile, the replication of the Karvan heavy machine gun is nearing completion. These magical firearms, which use steam mechanics as an aid and magic crystals and rituals as their primary power source, will soon completely close the gap between the weapons on the plateau and the plains.

Meanwhile, with the continued advance of the ground front of the Kingdom of Votel and the continued progress of the fleet of the Kingdom of Hein, the Highland Alliance finally gained the upper hand in this war.

The successful raid by the Fifth Regiment opened a crucial gap in the Voltel army, and the successful control of the Black Forest transportation hub became an important cornerstone for the Voltel to control several large crystal mines in the surrounding area. As the previously scarce crystal mines began to be replenished, many previously shelved arms research and development projects also resumed operation.

The new anti-air crystal cannon, designed to counter the magic airships of the Kingdom of Delan, has already made its mark on the main battlefield, while a large weapon that Shug had previously fantasized about countless times has also made its debut on the Silver Corridor front.

"The evil Voltel war machine is advancing!"

"Metal vehicles spewing thick smoke are destroying poor Delan soldiers!"

"Can agile magic be defeated by clumsy machinery?"

As a member of the Legal Committee stationed near Seren, Valery felt that every day was extremely painful.

The battle lines near Seren were also changing dramatically. Although both sides avoided Seren, this troublesome "reef" standing on the plain, the continuous shelling and large-scale battles around it had a severe impact on the already fragile transportation routes.

He anxiously flipped through the newspapers distributed by Mehringer, glancing occasionally at the shadows of the city of Seren in the distance.

He had done his best to do what Hugh had instructed Valery to do, and he had been constantly monitoring the relevant developments. However, the form and intensity of the war continued to change these days, but the things he was concerned about had not yet appeared.

Logically speaking, he shouldn't be in such a hurry. However, in recent days, some unexpected "new changes" have occurred at another location near Seren.

The origin of the great earthquake, or rather, the site of the magical disturbance that triggered it, has not been stable in the past few days.

According to information reported by the Legal Affairs Commission's monitoring station, an unusual "magical tremor" is occurring at the junction of rugged hills and plains. According to the members of the monitoring station, they can sense slight fluctuations in the magical realm through a secret instrument.

"It's like a heart hidden underground beating slightly... on average once every few hours, very slowly, but very regularly, and its source is deeper than the detection range of the secret instrument."

"Preparations are underway for a deep investigation into the source of the magical anomaly. The installation of the secret ritual is expected to be completed within five days, and a volunteer team will be organized to descend underground through surface fissures to conduct further investigations..."

Valery folded the newspaper in his hand with some irritation. It was a cloudy day. Although it wasn't snowing, there was a hint of moisture in the air, which made it feel even colder.

He walked out of his room and paced back and forth in the open space twice.

Not far away, a batch of supplies that had been painstakingly transported by sea were being counted and reloaded. These supplies would then be taken to the sports monitoring station to help the Legal Committee investigate the source of the magical anomaly.

Logically, Valery should be happy that Merlinle was willing to take on such a responsibility; however, he also knew that information about these magical anomalies had already been communicated to the warring nations in recent days.

As a result, apart from the responses from the Delan royal family and the Highland Council, no one else responded to the matter.

The Highland Mage Council's attitude toward this matter was equally ambiguous. They agreed to cooperate temporarily with Merlinle while ignoring the premise of war, but they had their own ideas regarding overall command and the sharing of the final exploration results.

"If nothing unexpected happens, the two sides will have to hold another meeting to negotiate... I wonder if there will be a result. These things can't be delayed, can they?"

Valery let out a long sigh.

He reached out and pinched the pendant he had been wearing since he became a mage. The pendant was carved from a blue magic crystal that had lost its magic power. It was a very classic statue of the goddess Mel. Although it was not very exquisite, it could well express the temperament of this goddess who symbolized wisdom and love.

Perhaps because it has been worn for too long, it has become somewhat worn, and even the goddess's face has become a little blurry.

Valery's faith in the goddess Mel never wavered, neither before he became a mage nor after he joined the Magic Council. His faith in Mel was not merely because he yearned for the miracles called magic, nor because of his identity as a spellcaster.

He simply identifies with and pursues the ideals under this belief.

He endorsed the "law of magic" and genuinely believed that everything in Vaan was interconnected, especially intelligent races, nations, and individuals.

In the distant sky, a dozen prototype magical airships painted with the image of a giant eagle of the plateau were slowly moving forward. Valery knew without a doubt that these transport vehicles, which had been modified by the Votel people not long ago, must be equipped with light crystal cannons and carried those terrifying rapid-fire guns.

"Magic or machinery... shouldn't they only be used in these kinds of places?"

Valery sighed with deep sorrow.

"Master Valery! Here's a letter for you, from Saint Steel!" An apprentice rushed over and placed a heavy letter, which he had just retrieved from the Eye of Mel's Ritual, in Valery's hand before hurrying off again. Today was the day for private mail delivery, and he had many letters to deliver.

Valery held the letter up to his eyes. In the light, a very beautiful and neat snowflake pattern was faintly visible on the envelope, with a small paw print of an ice bear on the edge of the snowflake.

Valery pressed his face against the envelope, trying to feel the familiar chill emanating from his distant homeland.

However, after this long journey, the letter would naturally no longer retain any trace of snowflakes or the chill of winter.

So he opened the envelope and began to read it with trepidation.

……

“Dear brother,”

“We received your letter. Mom was very happy. She ate an extra meal to celebrate the day the letter arrived, and we even had a little bit of sweet wine, just a tiny bit.”

“Before that, my family was terrified. We all thought you would be sent to the front lines to fight against our own army, which would be too cruel... No one wants to see the people of Saint Steel killing each other. Followers of the Goddess of Life and the Goddess of Magic should not do such things!”

"Many of our neighbors received obituaries... including Uncle Ivan, whose youngest son, Sasha, who was your former card-playing buddy, has died in battle. It is said that he and a dozen of his comrades were hit directly by a high-explosive crystal shell and did not recover anything that could symbolize their identity."

"Sasha wrote a will before going to the battlefield, saying that all the dragon tooth cards he collected would eventually belong to you... Uncle Ivan sent them all over, saying that he didn't want to see these pieces of paper again. Mom thought that the things of the dead would bring you bad luck, while Dad thought that they were the last blessings left by your friends, so he put them away for you and even tidied them up, saying that when you come back, you can use them to play a couple of games, and maybe you can win some money."

In the cold, damp wind, Valery silently licked his lips, wiping away the trace of salty, bitter taste that had slipped from the corner of his mouth.

Everyone was pessimistic about the war… because our offensive was far too aggressive, as if the lives of our soldiers were completely unimportant… General Sonosky kept trying to advance, so we suffered heavy losses, and supplies couldn't keep up. Dad complained that if this continued, even an old man like him would be taken to the front lines.”

"This is the third wave of conscription, and we don't know when it will end."

“I’ve thought about going to the front lines to work as a medical worker, but my mom won’t let me. We had a fight, and I gave in.”

……

……

“Brother, you probably don’t know this, but just yesterday, there was a riot at the royal mine that’s very close to our house. The overseers sent by the royal family were all killed… It’s said that the overseers forced the miners to keep digging downwards without providing them with any magical protection. The mage who was in charge of this matter had already gone to the front lines, so the mine collapsed and dozens of people were trapped and died down there.”

"I won't go into the specific details, but Dad said that the letters would be easily blocked and wouldn't be able to be sent out... Anyway, we still have a lot of canned food, water, and food at home, and even several weapons, so there's nothing to worry about."

Valery silently etched the rambling words written by his sister onto the letter into his eyes. At this moment, he found a rare peace, and even the occasional sporadic sounds of artillery fire in the distance sounded much more pleasant.

However, the letter was quite thick. After pulling out all the letters, Valery discovered that there was a new newspaper tucked inside the envelope. Although the newspaper was written in Common Tongue, the typeface was printed in a very classic Saint-St. style, with sharp strokes, like ice skates used when walking on the ice field.

He flipped the letter to the end with a puzzled look, only to find a piece of text that had clearly been added at the very bottom corner.

"Oh, by the way, on the way to mail the package, some people were handing out newspapers everywhere... Dad flipped through it and said you'd definitely like the articles, so he sent it along with the package. Remember to read it!"

The humidity in the air grew heavier, so Valery went back inside to protect the letters. He activated a magical ritual in the room, briefly heating the letters over the air before putting them away, intending to read them a couple more times later.

He then unfolded the folded newspaper under the light.

The newspapers were very new, but the magical ink on them had a slightly pungent smell, indicating that their quality was not very good, a common problem with those small newspapers.

The newspaper's content was relatively limited, but when Valery looked closely, he was incredibly surprised to find that the front page featured a very exquisite magical painting. In the picture, he saw a ruined city, standing alone on the plain, its walls riddled with holes, casting an unsettling black shadow.

And on the plains next to this city lay the battlefield that Valery knew all too well.

Magical airships hovered in the sky, artillery fire rained down on the positions and among the crowd, and volleys of bullets relentlessly pierced through the tiny human bodies...

The painting's name is written on it.

"A forgotten land."

Valery murmured its name, then continued to look down, trying to find the creator's name.

He eventually discovered that there were two names in the lower right corner of the painting.

“George Markm”.

Mikhail Gerasimov.

He was familiar with both names. The former was, of course, a highly respected and respected magic scholar, while the latter was very famous throughout St. Steel. His paintings had once hung in the St. Steel royal gallery until someone informed on him that the painter was involved in an assassination attempt against the St. Steel royal family, which forced Gerasimov to leave his homeland and go into exile in other countries.

Valery felt his heart racing.

(End of this chapter)