Berserk, Total War: Second Son of Nobles

When John told Flora his ideas about steam-powered mechs through the magic mirror, Flora's image in the mirror gradually became clear. Her usually calm eyes narrowed slightly, and she fell into a brief but deep thought.

A moment later, Flora's voice came through the magic mirror:

"Magic involving the soul is never something to be touched lightly; it's too dangerous."

John frowned slightly. He had actually had a premonition, but a sliver of hope remained in his heart.

Flora continued speaking:

"The Golems I use to guard my home are ultimately only powered by the energy of the Netherworld. Moreover, they can only stay in the border areas where the Netherworld energy is abundant. If I were to bring them to the mortal world, I wouldn't even be able to find a place to replenish their energy. Once the Netherworld energy within them is exhausted, those Golems will only turn into a useless pile of mud."

These words were like a bucket of cold water, directly extinguishing John's newly ignited idea of ​​creating a steam-powered fearless machine.

After a while, Flora's voice came from the magic mirror again, breaking the silence:

"However, you don't need to give up so soon. The dwarves in the Netherworld possess a lot of magical rune technology. If you can get their help, it might solve the trouble you're facing now."

Flora paused, then added, "If even the dwarves can't help, then you'll have to go to Fairy Island and try your luck with those reclusive wizards."

"The wizards of Fairy Island?"

These people are overseas and have no idea which sea area they are in. Even if they could fly, they wouldn't be able to find them.

He then continued to inquire:

"Ms. Flora, I have no way to enter the Netherworld right now. I don't even know which way the gate to the Netherworld opens, so how am I supposed to contact those dwarves?"

Flora didn't answer immediately. In the mirror, she tilted her head slightly, as if deep in thought.

The halo of light from the magic mirror flowed slowly around her, making her figure appear to flicker between light and shadow.

After a long while, Flora finally spoke slowly, her tone hesitant:

"I do know of a rune technique that can open a temporary portal between the mortal world and the underworld."

"Oh?"

John perked up again, saying, "You should have said so earlier if you had this ability."

"but."

Flora changed the subject, her tone becoming more serious.

"These portals are random, and the landing point is different each time they open. There is no pattern to them. One second you might see a sea of ​​flowers where fairies live, and the next second the other side of the portal might be the lair of some ferocious ghost creatures."

"Random teleportation."

Danger, John knew perfectly well how dangerous it was. Any one of those giant creatures in the Netherworld was as strong as an Apostle, or even stronger.

If you were to encounter a giant beast, it would be no different from suicide.

But... he couldn't help but think that if he missed this opportunity, he might spend even more time looking for other ways to strengthen his army.

It's almost here. Griffith has already been appointed by the King of Midland. The Eclipse will be at most three years away. In three more years, the Terror Emperor will launch his western expedition against Griffith, and Griffith will open the "Sword Wind Version" Eye of Fear, ushering in an era of chaotic battles between demons and monsters.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and his mind raced, weighing the pros and cons.

Then John opened his eyes, the hesitation from before gone. He looked at Flora in the mirror and spoke, each word distinct and earnest:

“Ms. Flora, no matter how dangerous this portal is, I want to try it. Could you teach me this runic technique?”

Flora looked at him, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, as if she hadn't expected him to make a decision so quickly.

"The method of drawing runes is very complicated. It requires special ink from the Netherworld, as well as some materials that are hard to find in the present world."

Flora's voice became serious, and she began to give detailed instructions.

"I can tell you the pattern of the rune and the steps to draw it, but you'll have to find a way to gather the materials yourself."

"Moreover, the portal will only be open for about three minutes. Once the three minutes are up, the portal will automatically close, and you won't have time to come back even if you want to."

"I'll take care of the materials; you just need to tell me the rune technique."

John immediately responded, his tone full of urgency.

"Whatever I need, I will find it all."

Flora nodded, and in the mirror, she raised her hand and made a few strokes in front of her. Complex runes slowly appeared on the surface of the magic mirror as she moved.

The runes shimmered with a ghostly blue light, their lines twisted and obscure, appearing to be filled with mysterious power.

"These are the runes needed to open the portal. There are twelve in total, and the order in which each rune is drawn must be correct."

Flora's voice slowly rose as the runes appeared.

"When drawing, you must follow the order from left to right and from top to bottom without any deviation. Also, the lines of the rune must be drawn in one stroke without interruption. Once interrupted, the entire rune will become invalid and may even cause a backlash."

John stared intently at the runes in the mirror, while the various magic researchers beside him frantically took notes, afraid of missing a single detail.

"I understand. I've memorized the drawing order and important notes."

John nodded solemnly, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"Ms. Flora, thank you. I really don't know what I would do without you."

"Thanks are unnecessary."

Flora's voice was soft, yet it carried a hint of barely perceptible concern.

"Be careful. If you encounter a danger that you can't handle, find a way to retreat immediately. Don't try to tough it out; your life is more important than anything else."

Meanwhile, in a completely different place, Karl slowly opened his eyes in a state of chaotic coma.

What comes into view is a blindingly white ceiling, spotless and without a single flaw.

A familiar smell filled his nostrils—the smell of medical alcohol he had used many times before, somewhat pungent, yet strangely reassuring.

He moved his fingers, but felt completely powerless, especially in his arms, which ached as if they had been severely beaten.

He frowned, his mind a jumble of thoughts. The events that had happened before flashed through his mind like fragments, but he couldn't piece them together completely.

Carl gritted his teeth and tried with all his might to sit up.

He braced himself against the bed frame and slowly raised his upper body. Just as his back left the bed, a figure dressed in white walked quickly over.

It was a burly middle-aged woman who rushed to the bedside in a few steps, reached out and pressed down on Karl's shoulder, her tone urgent:

"Don't get up, lie down first. Your wounds haven't fully healed yet, and moving around could cause them to reopen."

Karl was pinned down and unable to move, so he could only obediently lie back on the bed.

As he watched the old woman turn and walk away quickly, the words the squad leader had once said suddenly flashed through his mind.

The platoon leader said that even the regimental commander respected these middle-aged nurses who worked in the hospital.

Karl remembered the sergeant's tone was full of admiration when he talked about it.

The platoon leader said that year, the regimental commander fought against the Yodas with his troops and was forced into a pile of corpses by the enemy. Just when he was about to give up, a group of nurses in armor rushed over.

Armed with weapons, they cleared out all the enemy troops nearby, then carried him on a stretcher and rescued him from the pile of corpses.