The black sun hangs high

Chapter 365 Change of appearance
The special convoy slowly came to a stop outside the gate checkpoint of the Yanhu Mine.

Several Saint Steele soldiers responsible for protecting the Rock Lake Mine stepped down from their post. Facing the convoy, they were no longer the arrogant men they usually were.

Although these soldiers still held weapons in their hands, their every move was extremely restrained. Their expressions were serious, but their lips trembled as they tried to put on a fawning smile.

They all recognized the markings on the vehicles; the black sun was the symbol of the Black Sun Society, and even his own uniform bore the same design.

As ordinary members of the Saint Steel army, they had very limited communication with the official members of the Black Sun Society. Although they were all intelligent people who chose to join the Black Sun Society at the first opportunity, they had never actually seen the "big shots" in the society.

And now, a truly important person has come before them.

The soldiers had already been warned by the mage in the mine that an important figure would be visiting the guild today.

This visitor was not only a formal member of the Black Sun Society, but also had the blood of the Saint Steel royal family flowing through his veins—although everyone knew that the so-called royal bloodline referred to nothing more than a distant kinship, but at the moment, it further confirmed the "favor" and "attention" that the lost gods had for this northern kingdom.

In short, under the influence of these multiple conditions, the guards of the Yanhu Mine demonstrated a level of "military discipline" far exceeding their usual standards.

The convoy that arrived at the checkpoint had completely passed the Black Sun Ritual set up at the intersection. The eerie sculpture that instilled fear in all the soldiers only flickered calmly twice as the convoy passed.

This means that the visitor is absolutely fine; like other Black Sun Society mages, he truly possesses the power to be "recognized" by that ritual.

However, the necessary procedures still need to be followed.

The soldiers approached the military vehicle that was being guarded.

The vehicle was entirely black, with a striking outline of a black sun drawn in gleaming gold lines on the side door. As the soldiers approached, the door was pushed open, and a figure leaning on a black wooden cane stepped out of the vehicle.

This type of cane is quite common among the noble circles of Saint-St., and can be considered one of the essential items for Saint-St. nobles in public, so there is nothing particularly noteworthy about it.

The man leaning on the cane was a rather handsome young man.

He must have been around thirty years old. He had an old scar on his face that slightly marred his handsome features, but also added a touch of sharpness and ruthlessness to the young man's demeanor.

His hair color was the same as that of the Saint Steel royal family, a slightly curly gray-white. For ease of movement, he tied his hair into a ponytail at the back of his head. This gray-white hair contrasted sharply with the black uniform cloak he wore.

A soldier stepped forward and inadvertently made eye contact with the young man. In that instant, he felt as if he were seeing a wolf disguised as a human. The young man's bloodshot eyes were filled with contempt and hostility. His gaze even lingered on the soldier's neck for a moment, as if he were considering the possibility of tearing it apart.

That fierce gaze was truly intimidating. The soldier couldn't help but shudder, then stopped in front of the vehicle and refused to move forward. He dared not show the slightest disrespect and could only force himself to ask, "The visitor is... Baron Fiorento Jetmere?"

"Of course it's me, soldier."

The gray-haired youth had a cold and stern face, but his impatient tone was already overflowing from his mouth: "If you want identification, go get it from my guard... If you want to talk, send your superior officer, do you hear me!"

The young man's voice was loud and clear, and everyone present could hear it. Soon, the Black Sun Society mage who had been lecturing the miners in the Rock Lake Mine rushed out. He glanced at the gray-haired man in the distance, then at the unremarkable Black Sun Ritual, and then rudely interrupted the original verification process, forcing a smile as he stepped forward.

"Baron Feorlando..."

"Yes, it is me. Under the protection of the Black Sun, I am not late."

The young man's expression finally softened a bit. As he answered the other person, he looked down at the muddy road and his dirty leather boots, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched slightly.

The roads outside the mine are certainly not very clean and tidy, and with the melting snow and ice, even after repairs, they will still be muddy.

"Please be patient, Baron... Please come with me. Although the environment inside the mine is limited, everything that needs to be arranged has been set up: a laboratory, a study, and secret instruments. You can find everything you need."

As they were talking, they saw other passengers getting off in a car behind them. They appeared to be several servants accompanying the baron. The one in the lead was probably the baron's head maid. She looked quite young, but not very pretty. At that moment, she was directing the other servants to unload the baron's luggage.

"Make sure my people are settled in properly, spit on this mine."

Baron Feorlando was ultimately very dissatisfied with his situation, but he did not lash out. Instead, he muttered a curse under his breath and followed the sorcerer of the society forward.

Watchtower will soon become a battlefield. Even if the enemy's army doesn't advance here, their new crystal cannons will surely be able to cover Watchtower within range.

This is an established fact, a fact that anyone with eyes can see.

The so-called nobles and royalty sent here under these circumstances were destined not to be particularly important figures. The mages of the society knew very well that, in some ways, they were no different from themselves—or even worse, since they had considerable autonomy and the right to evacuate freely when faced with unstoppable danger.

But the other party clearly does not have these conditions.

As a tool thrown out by the Saint Steele royal family, the best outcome for Baron Fiorlando would probably be to disappear completely, along with the Rock Lake Mine, in the enemy's fire.

"He's already dead!" the monk thought dismissively.

Following behind the mage, Baron Feorlando gripped his black wooden staff, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings, his expression growing increasingly serious. He now resembled a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Fiorentino Jetmere.

Even within the Saint Steel royal family circle, she was not a very important figure.

Long ago, he was sent out as a gift for the Saint Steel royal family to "surrender" to the Black Sun Society. Faced with these precious experimental subjects delivered to their doorstep, the scholars within the Black Sun Society naturally did not show any mercy.

At that time, they were at a crucial moment in researching artificial magic circuit surgery, so the poor royal relative Fiorento Jetmere naturally became one of the first "targets" for the promotion of magic circuit surgery.

After undergoing that horrific transformation, the young man, who had once fought with his relatives by sword because of his bravado, gained the ability to manipulate magic.

To be precise, he was also wielding that cold and strange dark abyss magic.

During this process, he was able to meet the ancient gods who had long since departed and successfully obtained the favor of a deity named "Giant Hill," thus truly becoming a member of the Black Sun Society.

This experience completely changed Fiorlando's life, and from then on, he became an extremely contradictory individual.

He felt no identification with anything that existed in Vaan today, whether it was the nation, the organization, or the individuals. He vented his hatred and loathing on them equally. Fiorland believed, in an extreme way, that it was Vaan as it was today that had given him such a tragic past.

He harbored no resentment towards the Black Sun Society, which had brought him endless suffering; on the contrary, he was filled with gratitude, for it was the Black Sun Society that gave him the opportunity to use those "miracle" powers indiscriminately.

He had absolute faith in the deity he had glimpsed during the rituals, and he firmly believed that the colossal hill that had once appeared in ancient Vaan, with its boundless form and towering height reaching the clouds, would eventually reappear...

He had complete faith in the power bestowed upon him by the "Giant Hill" and held all his enemies in utter contempt until the day before.

Yes, one day ago.

His pride, his trump card, and all his confidence were so easily crushed into powder. The whole process was so smooth and fast, it was like parts being rapidly hammered by workers on a steam engine assembly line.

The soul hidden beneath Baron Fiorento's face sighed helplessly.

He really didn't know how to evaluate the baron's life experiences. Even with the help of the mask, which allowed him to immerse himself in the thoughts and memories of these imitations, he still couldn't figure out the guy's way of thinking. Once he started thinking deeply, his own consciousness would clash violently with Fiorento's, which could even cause the mask to lose its effect and turn him back into his original form.

As for the so-called "huge hill" that Fiorlando believed in...

This wasn't the first time Hugh had heard its name, but all indications suggested that this deity was probably just a fleeting existence in ancient Vaan. Compared to the Earth Mother Goddess and Karron, who once ruled the land and sea respectively, the traces left by "Giant Hill" were pitifully few. Hugh couldn't even find any trace of it in the Dream Sanctuary.

At that time in Vaan, this situation seemed very common, because when Shugna asked the unusually "survival" Fate Roots about this, the writhing roots told him that even among the gods, the simple and primitive relationship of "devouring" and "being devoured" also existed. The so-called colossal hill may have indeed existed, but it was destined to perish completely as the power of the Earth Mother Goddess gradually spread.

This seems to explain why Fiorlando appeared so fearful and helpless when faced with the attack of the running rats.

This is probably the natural restraint relationship between hunter and prey.

As they passed through the mine gate, the Black Sun Society mage in front slowed down, smiled at the young man beside him, and then asked, "Baron Fiorlando, according to the original plan, you should have also brought a battalion of soldiers... Where are they now?"

"They're still guarding Watch City. They're different from us; they need to rest and resupply."

Baron Fiorlando inhaled the strange smell that permeated the mine, then fanned himself and said, “You must have seen those soldiers after their march. To be honest, they don’t look much better than these miners… We need to give these miners some deterrent; we can’t let them come in wearing tattered shoes and ragged coats!”

Upon hearing this, the monk from the society frowned.

This arrangement was clearly contrary to the original plan, but he had already been notified that the "Sharp-Beaked Owl" archer battalion, commanded by Baron Fiorento, was indeed currently making temporary resupply in Watchtower. Although the commander's departure from the troops to travel ahead was a clear violation of military regulations, at the moment, such a violation was obviously not very important.

If Baron Fiorento arrives on time, he will be able to hand over the mine according to the planned schedule.

"I'm finally free from staying here and guiding these hopeless fools... I should go and carry out more meaningful and important tasks!"

The mage looked at two miners in the distance who were trying to pray before the Black Sun Ritual sculpture and let out two strange laughs. He was utterly disgusted with these stupid and extremely stubborn locals. If it weren't for the fact that the higher-ups of the society disliked this behavior, he would have even wanted to expand the range of his previous spell and suffocate all the miners in the night.

Fortunately, he no longer had to worry about the mine.

“Baron Fiorlando, I’ve heard that you have some special ideas about the location and significance of this mine… Do you intend to convert it into a temporary military camp? Or perhaps, as a temporary hiding place for artillery?”

Seeing Fiorlando look up, the mage chuckled and said, "Alright, alright, I know these are not things I should be asking. Anyway, these miners are all yours now... They were a bit disobedient, so I've already given them a good scolding. From now on, they'll be excellent laborers and expendable resources. For the sake of our eternal Black Sun, use them as you please!"

(End of this chapter)