Chapter 293 - 58: Legend! Legend! (6)

He didn’t finish, but his implication was clear.

Just defending ourselves was a struggle, our rescue forces were insufficient, and the risk was extremely high.

Quentin’s brow furrowed tightly. He was all too aware of how grim the situation remained.

That they had managed to hold on today was a stroke of luck, and Murphy’s timely support had been the decisive factor.

’But what about next time?’

’As for those Great Knights returning from the Otherworld...’

"Lord Melfield," Quentin said gravely as he looked at Murphy, "you are currently... perhaps the only Extraordinary combatant within Blackstone Fortress still in good condition. For our subsequent defensive preparations, I’m afraid we will have to rely on your judgment and experience."

Then he turned to the question of the rescue mission: "As for those Great Knights, they are the heroes who closed the Path, they are Holy Protectors. No matter what, we should try our best to send people to retrieve them, with everything we’ve got."

Seeing this, Murphy considered it for a moment, then said, "Alright, in that case, perhaps I can be the one to retrieve them."

The white-haired Archbishop’s face showed a hint of hesitation. "Your Excellency, this... Your combat strength is crucial to the fortress. If the monsters were to attack again in your absence..."

Just as Murphy was about to speak again, a set of footsteps, slightly rushed but steady, approached.

A Knight, his armor relatively intact and his Shoulder Armor bearing the Iron Hammer Mountain Range crest of the Peric Clan, made his way through the still-uncleared battlefield. Flanked by a small squad of soldiers, he walked straight toward Murphy and Quentin.

The soldiers along the way parted to make a path, their eyes filled with awe.

This Knight was clearly of high rank. He approached and first saluted Quentin and the three Archbishops respectfully. "Lord Quentin, Your Graces."

Then, he turned to Murphy, placed his right hand over his chest in a military salute, and announced in a clear, loud voice, "Your Excellency, Governor Melfield! By order of the Ironspine Duke, Hakon Perik, and the Saint Cyril Cardinal, I am here to summon you to the inner hall of the command center for a meeting!"

His gaze paused for a moment on Murphy’s dust-stained, dark-blue Governor’s robe and the simple, ancient Dark Gold Longsword in his hand. A flicker of undisguised respect and curiosity showed in his eyes, but it was swiftly replaced by a trained seriousness.

Murphy’s eyes shifted slightly. He understood.

’The inevitable has finally arrived.’

Repelling the monster tide, slaying the Giant Earth Rock Worm, revealing the power of a Legend... these deeds had unquestionably thrust him into the eye of the storm.

The Ironspine Duke, that unfathomable Cardinal Cyril, and the Valkendu Metropolitan Bishop from the Shepherd Headquarter District—none of them could possibly ignore his existence.

The previous dispatch had been a request for aid, whereas this summons meant he had officially entered the sights of the highest decision-making circle in Blackstone Fortress.

From stepping into Blackstone Fortress, to encountering the premeditated ambush by Wizards in the Deep Red Wilderness, to the anomaly of the ancient spirit coins, and now to being immediately summoned by the highest authorities right after the battle...

The most critical moment had finally arrived.

’A showdown?’

’A test?’

’Or do they have something else planned?’

Murphy’s face remained as calm as still water, as if he had just received a routine notice.

He gave a slight nod, his voice flat. "Understood."

He did not set off immediately. Instead, with a flick of his wrist...

SHIING!

A crisp, short scrape of metal rang out, followed by a strange, vibrating hum.

The instant the blade entered the sheath, it seemed to tremble slightly, emitting an extremely faint, almost imperceptible hum.

The hum vanished in a flash, so quickly that Quentin and the three nearby Archbishops failed to notice it.

Murphy turned to Quentin. "Lord Quentin, as for retrieving the returnees from Eagle’s Beak Peak, let’s discuss it when I get back."

Quentin gave Murphy a long look, then nodded. "No need. I will arrange for a retrieval party... No, I will go myself."

Hearing this, Murphy’s gaze lingered for a moment on Quentin’s unsteady figure. He said nothing more, merely telling the Order Knight, "Lead the way."

"Yes, Your Excellency! Please follow me!" The Order Knight said respectfully, turning to the side to lead on.

Murphy strode after him. His dark-blue figure crossed the ravaged battlefield, moving past soldiers who watched him with gazes of gratitude, awe, and curiosity. With a steady, unhurried pace, he walked toward the inner hall of the command center at the very top of the fortress, the symbol of ultimate authority.

With every step taken, he drew closer.

The humming within the scabbard grew more frequent, and yet, also quieter.