Translator: CinderTL
"Pure malice?"
Hearing this description, Roland pondered carefully for a moment, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
Aside from this characteristic, Theresa couldn't provide any further useful information.
Therefore, Roland had no choice but to temporarily set the matter aside, though he secretly increased his vigilance.
In his view, in a world brimming with extraordinary power, no amount of caution could be excessive.
Before embarking on their mission to eliminate the pirates, Roland and Hoby had meticulously refined their plan, even deliberately avoiding potentially dangerous sea routes.
As a result, their voyage to Howling Gorge proceeded remarkably smoothly, without encountering any unexpected incidents.
Throughout the journey, Roland remained diligent.
In addition to continuously practicing the Nameless Breathing Technique, he maintained his training in various nautical skills.
The days passed with the same regularity and fulfillment as when he was on land.
Within just a few days, the ship had sailed far beyond the River Domain's Royal Capitals.
In the distance, the rugged silhouette of Howling Gorge was now faintly visible.
However, Roland's gaze didn't linger on Howling Gorge. Instead...
He leaned against the ship's railing, gazing at the mist-shrouded land in the distance, and exhaled deeply.
Though he had heard countless rumors about the Mistland from others and various sources, he was well aware of its dangers. Even when hunting demonic beasts to fulfill the requirements for becoming an Apprentice Knight, he had deliberately avoided the area, choosing missions that steered clear of it.
Thus, since arriving in the River Domain Nations, this was the first time he had personally witnessed the mist-devoured realm.
Thanks to the extraordinary sensitivity to Magic Elements granted by his Material Empathy, even across the vast expanse of water, he could clearly sense the astonishing concentration of Magic Elements there.
The sheer density of magic even induced a strange discomfort, akin to the lightheadedness from drinking too much ale.
He shook his head and took another deep breath.
The icy sea wind whipped against his face, yet it failed to dispel the peculiar sensation.
Roland could only give Hoby and Theresa a few instructions before retreating to his cabin to rest.
As they drew closer to the Mistland, the mild, tipsy-like discomfort Roland had been experiencing grew increasingly intense.
Left with no other option, Roland sought refuge in sleep, hoping to resist the strange sensation.
When moonlight streamed through the porthole, bathing his face, he suddenly snapped awake.
Glancing at the inky darkness outside the cabin, Roland shook his groggy head and sat on the edge of the bed, his expression dazed.
After a moment, his consciousness fully returned.
"I never imagined the Material Empathy ability would have such a side effect..."
He sighed helplessly, carefully assessing his condition.
His spirit felt unusually invigorated, and his physical strength was remarkably abundant.
Apart from a lingering grogginess in his head, there were no other abnormalities.
Closing his eyes again, he quickly confirmed that all traces of sleepiness had vanished. Reluctantly, Roland rose from the bed.
"I'll go to the deck and get some fresh air..."
With that thought, he threw on some clothes and pushed open the cabin door.
It was late at night, and the deck was deserted except for a few crew members on patrol.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The dull thud of leather boots on the deck cut through the night's silence like suppressed drumbeats.
The sound echoed the rhythmic crash of waves, weaving together into a somber nocturne.
After exchanging brief nods with passing crew members, Roland retrieved a flask of fresh water and retreated to a secluded corner.
Glug... glug...
With each swallow, the icy liquid slid down his throat, and Roland felt his groggy mind sharpen slightly.
"After all this preparation, to encounter such an unexpected turn..." he murmured, drawing his mithril longsword from its sheath with a swift, backhanded motion and swinging it through the air a few times.
"Still, this state shouldn't hinder me in the upcoming battle."
As the blade flashed coldly under the moonlight, Roland's gaze drifted involuntarily toward the Mistland looming in the distance.
The impenetrable gray-white mist hung like a massive, damp shroud, weighing heavily on the horizon.
Moonlight struggled to penetrate its edges, only to be mercilessly swallowed and distorted, leaving behind a sickly, deathly pale glow.
The mist itself was not static; it churned and writhed with a slow, unsettling motion, as if countless invisible behemoths slumbered within its depths, their breaths stirring the ethereal mass.
Even merely gazing at it sent a chill crawling up Roland's spine, a primal dread rising from the depths of his soul.
It seemed to whisper silently: This is a forbidden zone for the living, a chaotic realm where the laws of reality are utterly twisted.
I wonder how Avril is doing...
Staring into the impenetrable mist, Roland's thoughts drifted to the lively and cheerful elf girl.
But this concern lasted only a moment before slowly dissipating.
Though he still didn't know the elf girl's true identity, Galvis's usual respectful demeanor toward her was enough for Roland to conclude that her strength was no less than his own.
Therefore, even if the River Domain Nations' campaign against the Wolf King had failed, the elf girl was likely in no mortal danger.
As his thoughts drifted further, that unsettling, slightly tipsy feeling resurfaced.
However, compared to before, Roland felt his body was gradually adapting to the discomfort caused by the excessively high concentration of Magic Elements.
He took a few deep breaths, about to withdraw his gaze and return to his cabin to rest, when his eyes caught an unusual glimmer in the thick darkness.
The light flickered like a firefly, glowing faintly on the sea surface near the Mistland.
Then, like pollen carried by the wind, it trailed a luminous streak across the air.
"What... is that?" Roland squinted, trying to get a clearer look.
But in the next instant, the distant glimmer vanished without warning, reappearing directly above his head.
In a flash, Roland's instincts tensed.
His brow furrowed as the Mithril Longsword at his hip transformed into a swift bolt of cold lightning, tearing through the moonlight to strike at the faint light.
To Roland's surprise, the light moved with astonishing speed, gracefully evading the razor-sharp blade.
Seeing this, Roland held nothing back. The Nameless Breathing Technique roared to life within him.
Scorching energy surged through his limbs and bones. With a piercing sonic boom, the Mithril Longsword slashed through the air once more, a ferocious strike.
As the sword swung and Roland opened his mouth to shout, intending to warn the crew to raise their guard and summon Theresa and the others for support, a light, urgent voice suddenly rang out.
"Wait... wait a moment!"
The words were cut short as the sword pierced the faint light.
Yet the glow didn't dissipate. Instead, it scattered like stardust beneath the blade, instantly reforming three steps away from Roland.
In the blink of an eye, a slender female figure with butterfly-like wings materialized before him.
(End of the Chapter)
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