Chapter 877 — The Land Once Abandoned

"Since this is the best the technicians can do, we'll have to accept it. We must return to port one way or another. I trust the Courage will overcome this difficulty, and our luck shouldn't be so poor as to meet two disordered turbulences in a row in coastal waters," Count Owen said, then glanced back at the Courage riding at anchor on the sea not far away—that handsome, advanced magical vessel lay quietly amid the gentle swells, its arcanometal-plated hull and the high-power storm crystal at its prow glittering under the great sun. After a brief gaze, the Count withdrew his eyes. "Tell the engineering team to make the final adjustments to the engines. We sail in three hours."

The first mate nodded, casually drew from his belt a short wand set with numerous gems, and as the gems lit up one after another, he cast a Message spell, relaying the captain's orders to the crew on watch aboard the Courage.

After watching the first mate finish all this, Count Owen nodded and turned his gaze toward the depths of the island. "Bring a few men. We're going back to that town."

The first mate glanced at the Count without asking anything. He quickly picked out a few sharp, alert sailors, and together with the Count set foot on the path leading to the island's center.

Treading the ancient flagstone road—clearly repaired at some point, but since abandoned again—Owen Dyson walked deeper into this former Imperial territory. The sailors who had scouted the way earlier had already cleared the obstructing shrubs and vines with spells and blades, and since the whole island of Thassos was not large to begin with, he soon passed through the path screened by trees and came to the edge of a silent, lifeless little town.

This was the largest cluster of human buildings on Thassos Island. Seven hundred years ago, it had also been the Empire's first stepping-stone in coastal waters. In that prosperous and all-too-brief period, countless diligent builders, ambitious captains and merchants, and dream-chasing adventurers had gathered here. Spices, gold, precious minerals from the deep sea, rare wonders seldom seen on land—all of it flowed through this place, and all of it made this inconspicuous island of Thassos the "Land of Flowing Gold," at its zenith in those days.

And after that brief golden age came a far longer decline—the former guardians of the sea turned overnight into mad, degenerate cultists, the Land of Flowing Gold became the domain of the Sons of the Storm, the Empire's wealth became nourishment for the cultists' own proliferation, and in the end, those who had not managed to withdraw in time...

Count Owen raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the abandoned houses and towers. The obscure runes left by the Sons of the Storm were everywhere on the former dwellings, and the crests of Typhon or House Dyson were long since nowhere to be seen.

At the end of the road, in a modest little square, Count Owen also saw a heap of ashes still giving off faint wisps of smoke. Amid the ash heap he could dimly make out fragments of broken sculptures and ritual implements—relics of the Order of the Deep that the sailors had gathered from all over the town. The cultists who had once entrenched themselves here had already withdrawn, so the sailors could do no more than burn what they had left behind.

Count Owen walked around the ash heap, around the little square, and came to the town hall.

On the steps before the hall, a tattered dark blue banner had been thrown to the ground, depicting a twisted emblem of storm and lightning.

Owen glanced down at the banner and strode forward—he and the sailors tramped up the steps, through the open main doors of the hall, and into the empty assembly chamber. At last he stopped before the wall at the very back of the chamber, and on that wall there was nothing but two empty hooks and a little moss creeping along the stone.

The count raised his head and gazed for a while, then lowered it and began rummaging within his coat. Soon he fished out a piece of cloth, folded with great care, and cautiously unfolded it.

It was a flag, exceedingly old—so old its colors had faded—yet because magic thread had been woven into its fabric and it had always been meticulously preserved, it remained whole and intact after seven hundred years. Against the solemn black field, the emblem of shield and crown, though dimmed in hue, was still clearly visible.

After studying it closely for a time, the count lifted his hand and solemnly hung Typhon's flag once more in the town hall of Tassos Island.

Then he unfastened another object from his waist—a sword that had passed down through his family for generations.

Engraved on the hilt was the pale-gold pattern of a harpoon: the crest that Typhon's founding sovereign had bestowed upon the first Count Dyson seven hundred years ago. This blade stood for the Dyson family's inheritance, and for the glory of Tassos Island's first builders.

The sword and the flag—both were things the family's forebear had carried away from Tassos Island when he withdrew from it. That ancestor had left no dying words about bringing them back to Tassos, for he had perished at sea while organizing the second evacuation; but ever after, the relics he left behind became a long-standing duty for the Dyson descendants.

Having laid the sword beneath the flag, Count Owen finally let out a soft breath. He returned to the sailors' side, turned around, and stood with them all in silent contemplation of the sword and flag upon the wall, just as the people in this hall had done seven hundred years before.

Several minutes later, they left the town hall and set out on the road back to the Courage.

The light of the giant sun poured down over the ruined town. Unknown birds and beasts clamored and shrieked in the nearby dense forest; luxuriant plants went on quietly thriving upon this land. Far off toward the coast, the Courage's bright, lilting whistle was sounding, urging the crew to return to the beach and assemble.

……

In Aldernan, within the study of the Obsidian Palace, Emperor Luo Yan Augustus set down the document in his hand, looked up at the two mages seated across from him, and let a faint smile show on his face:

"After all the perils, word has finally come from the Courage—they have succeeded in setting foot on Tassos Island. Today is a day worth celebrating, my two masters."