In other words, they are the guardians of all intelligent life.
The refugees and mercenaries filed in from under the colossus, feeling an instant sense of cleansing, as if all their grime and fatigue were washed away, leaving them revitalized.
Many even stopped to confirm if they were hallucinating.
Brand watched these people, not telling them that this was actually the Blessing of the Saint, a top-tier spell from Vorn’s Guardian Barrier, the Ten Commandments. In truth, the stronger the dark power within someone, the more pronounced the effect of this barrier. Ordinary people passing through enjoyed the Purification Technique and stamina restoration, while evil beings like Magus and White Knight Albton would be instantly converted, turning from extreme evil to extreme justice.
However, for undead creatures to even experience this effect, they first had to pass the test of the Fourteen-Ring Thunder Strike Skill at the tips of the spears of the colossus at the entrance - a divine magic spell. Not even the twenty-four Eternal Dukes of Madara could pass unscathed.
After passing the colossus at the valley entrance, the valley widened further inward, eventually forming a flat valley floor bordered by swirling white fog, with no end in sight.
Within the fog seemed to live some creatures, with white smoke clouds coalescing at times into winged angels flying in the sky, knights on tall horses, or fierce griffins, only to vanish in an instant.
In this eerie valley, no one dared stray too far from Brand. The refugees fell silent one by one, tensely watching the surrounding mystical scenery.
Frey thought increasingly that this place was incredible, a mysterious location unknown to ordinary people. But seeing Brand’s calm demeanor, she couldn’t help but feel worried, fearing that as an ordinary girl, she might not be able to keep up with him forever.
She frowned and glanced at Roman. Though she didn’t voice it, she knew in her heart that Roman’s aunt must have her own secrets. Maybe such a merchant’s niece was better suited for Brand.
They were the same kind of people.
As Frey grew more troubled, she eventually trailed behind, lowering her head.
Brand didn’t notice the lady’s inner turmoil, busy handling Roman’s weird questions such as, "What is this place, Brand?"
"I already told you, this is the Land of Saint’s Relics."
"But you didn’t explain what the Land of Saint’s Relics is."
Brand felt a bit overwhelmed. He glanced back at Char, whose serious expression was anything but helpful. He turned to the Merchant Miss on horseback, covered in mud from her secret horse-riding lessons that scared Brand half to death when he initially learned of it. Roman had tied herself to the horse with ropes, proudly showing off.
Brand naturally gave her a thorough scolding to teach her what she could and could not do.
"The Land of Saint’s Relics is the resting place of ancient kings and sages. They used their spirits to create a territory called ’Their Kingdom’, where all their subjects are protected, and outsiders forever lost." Brand answered.
"So, there are many such places, Brand?" Roman asked curiously.
Brand sniffed, frowning. He decided to make Roman take a bath once they were safe—no girl should tolerate being covered in mud. Sometimes he wanted to examine her brain to understand her thoughts.
"Are they all called the Land of Saint’s Relics?"
As they talked, everyone else drew closer, intrigued by Brand’s insights. The mercenaries, though knowledgeable, couldn’t identify many of the terms Brand used. Even Char wondered, being a wizard apprentice, how Brand knew so much.
The Land of Saint’s Relics involved ancient legends, with few wizards in the Black Tower possessing such knowledge. According to Char, fewer than five people knew more than Brand in this regard.
Where did Brand’s knowledge come from?
Char refrained from asking since those capable of using Destiny Cards were never simple people.
Brand shook his head at Roman’s question. "They each have their names, connected to the resting kings. This valley, shrouded in mist and located in the lowland swamps, is known as the Land of the Elves..."
"The Land of the Elves?"
"The King of Knights, one of the eleven ancestor kings, was humanity’s guardian long before King Gilte. He made a pact with the Fairy Queen, who gave him a Golden Apple, making him king of humanity. After death, his soul returned to the Land of Ideals, eternally honoring his commitment—"
"This place has chaotic time flow. Nighttime here is almost stasis relative to the outside world, with time only resuming during the day. Legend has it there’s a Golden Apple Tree in this valley, where the Fairy Queen resides, though no one has ever seen her—any mortal who sees her never leaves."
He turned and saw Roman staring at him with wide, clear eyes. "Golden Apple?"
"Is that all you heard?" Brand’s mood soured, asking exasperatedly.
Roman nodded seriously.
"Alright, Little Roman, no more stories for you." Brand almost choked on his breath. He intended to teach her some sense when—
Suddenly, he paused, turning in one direction.
Everyone followed Brand’s gaze, seeing a solitary tree.
(PS. Does this feel like a fairytale to everyone?) (To be continued. For more Chapters, please visit www.qidian.com, support the author, and read officially!)