Translator: CinderTL
Roland's gaze remained fixed on the text, its characters stained with a dark crimson glow. In the deathly silence, his heartbeat seemed unnaturally heavy.
The initial euphoria was doused like ice water, replaced by a complex mix of shock, solemnity, and a touch of absurdity.
"Throw yourself into a grand war of clanging steel and earth-shattering war drums..."
He murmured the first sentence, his brow furrowed.
This was no ordinary Job Panel prompt, with its cold, direct instructions like "Reach X Strength" or "Master Specific Skills."
Instead, it felt like...
...an ancient prophecy?
"In the vortex of war horns and blood-fire..."
Roland's gaze slowly moved downward.
"...you must become the blade of victory, the weight that tips the scales of fate..."
The words echoed in his mind, his eyes gradually darkening with solemnity.
In past battles, he had always relied on meticulous planning before combat, leveraging his foresight and adaptability to secure victory.
This strategy had proven invincible in limited conflicts, but what about... a grand war?
And... the deciding factor in victory?
This meant he had to play a decisive role at the critical juncture that would determine the entire course of the war.
In such circumstances, while immense strength was crucial, what was even more central was precisely identifying the opportune moment that could shift the entire balance of the battle and seizing that fleeting chance.
This was by no means a goal achievable through individual valor alone.
"One must be the survivor who treads upon scorched earth and fallen banners, descending from the hill of corpses..."
Muttering these words inwardly, Roland felt a pang of confusion.
"Does this phrase simply mean surviving the war, or does it hold a deeper meaning?"
His gaze continued downward.
"Only thus... can the Knight's Heart be forged into your soul."
The final sentence echoed in Roland's mind like the toll of a heavy bell.
He slowly closed his eyes, allowing the dark red text to leave a searing afterimage on his retinas.
The Job Panel's unusual lag and the final, epic-tier notification carried an aura of extraordinary significance.
This didn't feel like a cold system command, but rather like an ancient and powerful being, veiled by the curtain of time and space, issuing him a trial decree steeped in blood and glory.
"War... decisive factor... survival..."
Roland murmured these three core words, sensing the weight and bloodiness they carried.
The Mistland was fraught with peril. Where could he find a war of "clashing steel and earth-shattering war drums"?
And on this unfamiliar battlefield, how could he ensure he became the "decisive factor"?
Should he join the war between the River Domain Nations and the Wolf King?
Roland shook his head gently at the thought.
His fingertips unconsciously tapped the cold bed, producing dull thuds.
"According to Avril's intelligence, this war has stalemated because the Wolf King's exact location remains elusive."
"Even powerful transcendent professionals like Graham are helpless, forced to search inch by inch through the mist. What hope do I have?"
Roland sighed softly.
"Regardless, the Job Panel's prompt means my strength has neared the threshold of becoming a knight."
"At worst, I'll just continue cultivating the breathing technique. Once my strength truly reaches the Transcendent Knight realm, I'll come back and find an opportunity to complete this job change. For now..."
He let out a long sigh, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.
"I should focus on figuring out how to safely retreat from this damned Mistland."
After all, failing to become a [ Knight ] wouldn't hinder his own growth in strength, even if it meant losing attribute bonuses and powerful traits.
Compared to that, ensuring his own safety was the top priority.
With his decision made, Roland lay down on the cold bed.
As his thoughts drifted further away, he sank into sleep.
As night fell, the demonic beasts in the mist grew increasingly agitated.
Under the soldiers' diligent watch, Roland, alerted in advance, quickly eliminated the scattered demonic beasts that attempted to invade the camp, with Freddy by his side.
The next morning, Roland woke up on time.
After stretching and performing his usual sword training warm-up, he lifted the tent flap and stepped outside.
Under the careful arrangements of Avril and Lieutenant Barry, the soldiers had already packed their belongings.
Guided by the witch Vanessa, the group set off for Jade Rock Forest.
However, perhaps due to their large numbers, they encountered demonic beasts far more frequently than Roland and his companions had during their solo journey.
Fortunately, with the presence of strong fighters like Roland, Avril, and Freddy, the attacking beasts were quickly repelled.
Despite this, the team's progress was significantly slowed.
The only good news was that they discovered traces of the missing transport team along the way.
Although all the guards had perished, the supplies remained intact.
This discovery revitalized the soldiers' flagging spirits.
The timely arrival of food and water eased their despair, and the team's pace quickened considerably.
After what felt like an eternity, the silhouette of Jade Rock Forest finally emerged on the horizon.
But Roland's mood didn't improve, because...
"When did this start?"
Roland knelt down, carefully examining the wound of a limping soldier, and asked Avril, who was standing beside him.
"Around last night..."
Avril replied softly, her gaze also fixed on the wound.
They saw that faint blue crystalline structures were growing on the surface of the wound, which had nearly healed.
"Crystal Clusters..."
"Exactly."
Roland nodded gently. While instructing other soldiers to help the injured man and continue moving, he slowly said:
"Avril, how long have you been in the Mistland?"
"About two months... or three?" Avril sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Roland. In this area saturated with high-concentration magic element, the sense of time becomes very blurred..."
"I understand." Roland shook his head, his mood growing heavier.
The Crystal Clusters at the soldier's wound had appeared suddenly, ruling out the possibility of the Church of Truth being involved.
Then...
Recalling Bronson's stories about the era before the Final Epoch, Roland's brow furrowed deeply.
"Could this be crystallization caused by prolonged exposure to the high-concentration magic element?"
Realizing this, Roland's desire to leave the Mistland as soon as possible became overwhelming.
Even though his strength far surpassed these soldiers, who could guarantee he wouldn't contract this strange, debilitating disease?
At the same time, a heavy sense of pessimism settled over the prospects of the River Domain Nations' war against the Wolf King.
The emergence of the crystal devouring disease not only meant a drastic decline in the soldiers' combat effectiveness, but something far more terrifying:
Comrades who had fought side-by-side could at any moment lose their minds, transform into frenzied demonic beasts, and turn against their own allies.
As he pondered this, a gruff shout from a distance shattered his thoughts.
"Mr. Roland! Come quickly and see this!"
(End of the Chapter)
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