"The cold wind seems to never stop." Lucius said.

There was something strange about his voice, not as natural as it used to be. If anyone were to ask why, it could only be attributed to his missing jaw. The jaw made of brass has no biomimetic body and does not assist him in vocalization.

A demon hiding in the shadows was the culprit, it ambushed Lucius, and if it weren't for his quick reaction, I'm afraid it would be more than just a jaw and half a tongue missing at this moment.

Saul Tavitz agreed with him with a slight nod.

Leaning against the wall, he sat down peacefully beside a weapon rack, concentrating on sharpening a combat dagger. The room was somewhat empty, and others were being questioned by the Ministry of War.

This is a necessary rule, and no one can escape it. Even Fogrem himself spends an hour recounting his experiences, and of course, the words that were recorded were not classified in any of the archives.

If they were to be archived, the emperors would probably be surprised.

"Terra shouldn't have a wind like this." Lucius stared intently out the window, still telling his thoughts. "Everyone knows what the natural environment of the throne world is."

"At least it's going to snow." Tavitz said without looking up. "At least it has a change of seasons, Lucius. Snow, wind, rain, what if there is no spring and summer? You're doing some superfluous thinking. ”

"Superfluous?!" Lucius jerked around and asked sharply. "No doubts are superfluous, Company Commander Saul Tavitz! The slightest hint of wind and grass means that damn chaos is watching! ”

Tavitz finally looked up at him. He shook his head, put down the knife in his hand, took out another, and began to grind intently.

"I will not tolerate any form of compromise." Lucius said gloomily.

His tone had become calm, but still dangerous, and his face, engraved with his name, looked ominous in the leap of the firelight.

"Any form, Tavitz, do you understand? Even if this is Terra, I'll go report my thoughts to Commander Vespasian now. ”

"Why don't you just find the original body?" Tavitz asked, looking down. "Don't tell me you're going to go to the door of the Ministry of War and wait for Vespal to finish his inquiries first."

"Report at all levels, never skip the level." Lucius said with a straight look. "This is military discipline, and the emperor's son will never violate military discipline."

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Tavits alone. The door closed, and Saul Tavitz sighed, raised his dagger, and stared into his eyes through its reflection.

Everyone has been changed, and after a hellish ride like that, no one dares to say that they are still the same.

Lucius became a stubborn man with great vigilance over everything, and Acudona became cruel, and he used to wield his sword and never do anything superfluous, but now he preferred to deal with his enemies with uncontrollable anger.

And himself.

Saul Tavitz stood up.

What has become of him?

He slowly came to the door, counted the time, and opened the door, where he saw two men dressed as servants, both dressed in brown robes and even hoods, and the guard who should have been around the corner of the hallway was now gone.

Tavitz had a sharp knife in his hand, calmly waiting for them to speak.

One of them looked up at him, stretched out his right hand from inside his robe, and a roll of parchment that still smelled of ink was handed to him.

In addition to the Aquila, which represented the Empire, Tavitz saw an emblem on it that seemed completely unfamiliar to him.

A capital I, followed by three horizontal lines of varying lengths, which cross through them, connecting a skeleton with the letter itself.

Tavitz lowered the battle dagger and sheathed it.

He calmly asked, "Who are you?" ”

The servant handing out the parchment scroll did not reply, but his companion took off his hood, opened his mouth, and let out a few whimpering dull sounds.

"Dumb?" The Emperor's Son frowned. "Born?"

The man shook his head, the mysterious imprint tattoo gleaming between his eyebrows. He gestured to Tavitz, who understood him easily—he was silent for a few seconds, then reached out and took the parchment scroll, and began to read it.

It didn't take him much effort to understand the true intentions of the writer hidden between the twists and turns of the written language, and then he came to a conclusion.

It's an invitation.

To be more precise, this is a personal invitation from Machado, the palm sealer.

But why me?

Tavitz frowned, pondered, and finally handed the parchment back - he didn't understand why Macado had suddenly sent him an invitation, but he didn't need a reason to refuse.

And the two attendants, apparently disagreeing on this, looked at him, and the attendant who had taken off his hood again gestured with sign language.

"Nope." Tavitz said. "Please inform the Palm Bearer that I cannot grant such an unclear invitation. My legion is now the time when it needs me, and I can't walk away at this time. ”

The man sighed visibly, put his right hand into his bosom again, and pulled out a black-gray instrument. He held it in both hands and handed it to Saul Tavitz, and a voice slowly came out.

"Say yes, Thor." Fogrem said. "It's important, promise it, okay?"

The Emperor's Son stared wordlessly, feeling deeper doubts. It took four hours for his doubts to be resolved. At this moment, he had left the residence assigned to the emperors and arrived at a hidden underground facility.

The air was filled with a strange smell, as if something was being burned deep underground. There were a lot of people here, and in just ten minutes or so he had been in the facility, he had already seen at least three different teams pass by him.

Civilians, soldiers, or cloaked coverts. He even saw quite a few red-robed priests.

The two entourages who led the way for him had no intention of explaining, their steps were extremely smooth and definitely professionally trained.

Tavitz watched it all with a blank face, taking in every detail. For example, the blue-gray walls lined with energy pipes, or everywhere you look, it looks like a giant contemplative being placed at hand.

It is not rock that makes up the floor material, but an alloy with a complex composition. Tavitz wasn't a skilled blacksmith, but he had also built many weapons by hand on and off, an alloy he hadn't seen before.

And these are just the appearances, what really sparked his curiosity about this place was the ubiquitous detectors and sirens, five meters each, installed at any cost in every place where humans could or may not pass by.

He even saw automatic turrets, which were not hidden, and were just laid out in some of the necessary paths.

Everywhere there were well-armed guards, as well as sentry posts hidden in the shadows. Even if an Astarte army wanted to storm this place, I am afraid that it would have to pay a great price.

After all, who knows what else is hidden here?

Thinking about these things, Tavitz maintained a necessary silence, but also realized something more important—in a way, Machado's willingness to let him in was essentially a sign of trust.

But where does this trust come from?

Moving on, further underground, the two minions finally stopped after passing through the twenty-fifth heavily armed gate. They turned, each bowed to Tavitz, and turned and walked into the darkness.

The world that appeared before him at this moment was no longer the same as before, the creations of the civilized world were gone, it was rough and primitive, and the walls were even unpolished primitive rock.

The space is vast, but there are no instruments, as if this is a naturally formed cavern, just a different kind of decoration, and there is no need to use it.

The only light here was the glow of a scepter of Aquila in the hands of a diminutive old man. It danced across the walls, blurring the silhouette of a person and making it terrifying.

Tavitz knew who he was, and he approached slowly, bowed his head, and made a greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Company Commander Saul Tavitz." The Palm Printmaker said, his eyes glinting under the hood.

This made the Emperor's Son feel a little uneasy—Machado was using psionic powers, but the question that had been asked so many times today came back to his mind.

Why?

"Company Commander Tavitz, have you seen any pilgrims on the way here?" Instead of giving him more time to think, Macado suddenly threw out a question.

"What do you mean by that?" Tavitz asked cautiously. "They're everywhere, Lord Palm Seal."

"Just asking one or two." Machado said noncommittally and shook his head. "In the last month, Terra has entered winter, and the effects of low temperatures have been exacerbated by the abnormal winds."

"If the temperature continues to drop like this, I am afraid that many pilgrims will lose their lives. Clothing can't withstand the cold. ”

"Can't you arrange for them to go to refuge? At least survive this winter? Tavits took over as Macado meant, and although he was only trying to keep the conversation going, his frown was genuine.

Machado sighed.

"This winter won't pass, Company Commander Tavitz." He whispered. "Soon, it's going to snow in Terra. At that time, the weather will become more and more bad, because the snow, like the wind, will not stop. ”

"The blizzard will destroy the pilgrims who sleep in the wilderness, their bodies will freeze in the cold, the ground will be frozen and you know them, and they will see penance as a devotion to the gods. Even if the evacuation facilities were built, not many of them would be willing to go into the shelter. ”

Saul Tavitz inevitably fell into a period of silence, and the hints in Macardo's words forced him to do so. What does it mean that winter will not pass and the snow will not stop? Don't the Palm Sealers think they can survive this catastrophe?

A dull hint of anger finally appeared between his brows.

"Then force them in." Tavitz said. "It is better to be forced to lose a part of your faith and piety than to lose your life."

"You can force people to do what they don't want to do, but what about the wind and snow?" The palm printer asked. "How are you going to change the natural environment?"

"I don't believe winter lasts forever." Tavitz replied angrily. "Like I didn't believe we were going to lose, Palm Sealer, I don't know—"

"—Who said we would be defeated?" Macado interrupted him and asked rhetorically, slightly surprised.

Even though his emotions seemed genuine, Tavitz couldn't figure out if it was just a disguise for the Palm Sealer, he was still confused, and he didn't hide it.

Machado glanced at him, and suddenly threw out a sentence with a tone of sudden realization: "Ah, I see. ”

"What? I beg you to give me an explanation, Lord Palm Seal. Tavitz said with a slight displeasure.

The Palm Seal shook his head, and the Aquila Scepter slowly lifted and landed heavily on the ground. The sound of percussion was so crisp that it began to reverberate within the rock walls, and the bright light of the fire suddenly lit up, dispelling all darkness.

Tavits turned his head to see a group of men in pitch-black cloaks, looking down at them overhead. The rock wall was originally empty, but now there is suddenly a second floor that has been dug out by hand.

They were tall and thin, ordinary or huge, some were armed, some were empty-handed, and Tavitz even saw one wearing a lightning medal over his cloak. No one else had done that, but he wore it so proudly on his chest.

"What does that mean?" Turning around, Tavits asked in a low voice.

"They're evaluating you." Macardo replied calmly.

A wave of anger rose from Tavitz's heart, but he remained calm and chose to wait and see. The Palm Seal strode past him, robes dragging across the ground with a tiny clatter.

He didn't stop until he reached the front door, and Tavitz stood still, staring warily back at those who were looking down on him, until Makado spoke aloud.

"So—" The Palm Seal touched the ground with his scepter again, and the ground began to change, with intricate patterns abruptly appearing, etched into the gray rock. There are many changes, but the place where Tavitz stands is the most profound.

But instead of a pattern, a puddle of water that replaced the ground appeared beneath his feet, so cold that it even submerged Tavitz's chest. Even for Astarte, it was too cold, but the Emperor's Son did not leave it.

He faintly heard some silent whispers, many of which sounded familiar.

"—give me your answers." The Palm Seal proclaimed majestically.

And pinching.

By the way, the timeline from Terra's perspective is still in the early days of the Battle of Coth. All of the interludes I used during the title of the Terra chapter follow the timeline, in other words, they were actually a chapter in Terra. Why do you want to separate it? Because I realized that if I didn't, the number that was going to be on the back of the whole Terra might be (seventy), or even (eighty)

The Battle of Terra will be a long story, the biggest climax in the middle of the book. I'll do my best to write about all the forces involved, I think it's necessary, but the experience of chasing more may not be very good. So if there are book friends to raise, I understand. As for those book friends who are still willing to chase more, I can only use the explosion to give back ()

Ok, let's do it for now, and then I'll come back to the second chapter. Scheduled for about fifteen thousand today.

(End of chapter)