Chapter 197 - 171: The Riddle of History (Part 2)
Chapter 197: Chapter 171: The Riddle of History (Part 2)
Valentino had perfect scores in history at Algeria King’s College. She was exceptionally well-read, and most of the books she’d studied were from the King’s College library. Robson had no reason to doubt the credibility of her sources.
But that made it all the more strange. An obscure city-state, one mentioned only in plays, was actually called an Empire and possessed a Golden Tier Cultivation Technique—and a standardized one at that!
What did that imply? It implied that they had a thorough understanding of the Golden Tier, with clear rank divisions, and even possessed a considerable number of Golden Tier masters.
This was just absurd. The total number of Golden Tier masters on the entire continent was probably only a few thousand, maybe even less. It was only now, with the continent’s nations united, that they would even dare to consider establishing standards for the Golden Tier.
And now, this Cultivation Technique had somehow found its way into Robson’s hands...
For such a powerful Empire, the only trace it left in history was a single line in a play.
According to the consensus among the continent’s races, civilization erupted between four and five thousand years ago. Afterward, the continent entered a barbaric age. The Elves and a group of ancient foreign races from the north were the first to gain sentience. The ancient foreign races were defeated by the Elves and retreated to the continent’s southwest—the territory of Humans and Beastmen. They were later defeated by a coalition of Humans, Trolls, and Beastmen, forcing them to retreat to the Northern Territory.
The Dwarves originated in the continent’s Central Desert, which was also the birthplace of many races. However, the Extraordinary energies in that desert were chaotic. Once the Extraordinary came to power in their respective races, most left the Central Desert. Those lands are now ruled by the Insect Race, which is also a persistent plague for the Elves.
As for the Elves, after defeating the ancient foreign races, the Elf Federation became the Elf Empire, only to rapidly collapse within two hundred years. Afterward, no matter how brilliant or ambitious the Monarch, any unification was short-lived. A single Elf’s lifespan could witness an empire’s rise and fall.
Over time, the various nations of the continent slowly took their present form. This was, in essence, a brief history of the continent.
And in this history, there was no Sena.
An Empire with no historical footprint reminded Robson of Falan, the Mage who claimed to be from a Kingdom no one had ever heard of.
Of course, these were just connections Robson made when he was bored. Given his current strength, he was but a single drop in the torrent of history.
Forget worrying about the continent’s historical destiny; he didn’t even have a seat on the Frank Kingdom’s Council. Even the Frank Kingdom itself was just a speck of dust in history, liable to be steamrolled one day if the Beastmen had a sudden burst of power.
For the current Robson, the greatest significance of this Cultivation Technique was its high degree of compatibility with the Silver-White Fighting Qi in his body, allowing it to flow with silky smoothness.
...
What Robson hadn’t expected was that the Beastmen didn’t reach Thermopylae by nightfall. They had likely learned their lesson from before. When they were still fifty *li* away, the Beastman Army had already ceased its forced march and slowed to a crawl.
It wasn’t until the next morning that the Beastmen arrived before Thermopylae.
At that moment, Thermopylae was still being patched up by the Mages. General Griff watched all this but paid it little mind, not even sending out troops to harass the Humans.
’All of this is just window dressing. It won’t make a big difference. In the end, it all comes down to the absolute strength of both sides.’
"General... another letter has arrived from His Highness the Prince. He’s urging us to launch the attack quickly. According to our intelligence, the Humans have already completed their mobilization.
The Human reinforcements from the rear are on their way here now." An aide-de-camp said, frowning at General Griff as he watched the Beastman Soldiers setting up camp around them.
General Griff ignored him. ’This is the man Prince Kase sent to supervise the battle. As for his actual competence...’
"General?" the aide-de-camp pressed, seeing General Griff ignore him.
"Alright, alright." General Griff waved his hand, clearly impatient.
"Do you see those Magic Crystal Cannons?" General Griff asked, pointing at the cannons atop Thermopylae.
"And those defensive fortifications? You don’t see them?"
The aide-de-camp was momentarily confused. Now it was General Griff’s turn to frown. ’That Prince Kase... aside from his habit of sending people who don’t understand the actual situation to give clueless orders, he’s just fine.’
"Let me ask you, how many men do we have?" General Griff asked.
’If I don’t sort out this aide’s questions today, he’s probably not going to leave me alone.’
"Twenty thousand. Around twenty-three thousand," the aide-de-camp answered truthfully.
"And the enemy?" General Griff asked.
"At least five thousand, estimated to be around ten thousand."
"Which means we need to capture a pass guarded by elite soldiers within two days.
Look at those Magic Crystal Cannons. Do you have any idea the kind of noise they make when they fire? If we get bogged down in a war of attrition, those things will annihilate you and me from the face of this world.
Kid, we have one chance. Either we punch right through them, or... we crawl back to the steppes," General Griff said grimly.
At times like this, General Griff found himself missing General Curry. At least the two of them could discuss these matters with each other.
Unfortunately, General Curry’s injuries were too severe. That strand of Silver-White Fighting Qi had yet to dissipate and was now endangering his internal organs. He had to be sent back to Madar City for treatment.
The aide-de-camp didn’t fuss over being called "kid." Given General Griff’s seniority, he had indeed earned the right.