Read Novel Full Chapter 785 - 1: Where Flowers Once Bloomed
Chapter 785: Chapter 1: Where Flowers Once Bloomed
In the desolate western borderlands of the Saladin Kingdom, a forgotten piece of land lay silent in the twilight. It was simply called the "Ruined Castle" by the locals, which was fitting—a place where all that met the eye were crumbling walls and decayed ruins.
What might once have been a moat was now a dried-up trench, its bottom piled with weathered stones and dead thorns.
Several broken sections of the defensive walls stood like an old man’s missing teeth, lonely amidst the wild grass. Huge stones had fallen from the walls, lying scattered on the ground, covered with deep green moss and withered vines.
At the center of these ruins, the castle that lent its name to the place stood majestically. Its main tower had collapsed halfway, resembling a tree branch snapped by a giant, exposing the hollow structure inside.
The remaining parts were full of cracks, with a few dark window openings like the eyes of a blind man, staring blankly at the gray sky. On the exterior walls of the castle, the once magnificent carvings had been eroded by wind and rain, making them hard to discern, with only a few residual patterns suggesting the past glory that had been here.
Lynch stood in the midst of the rubble, his gaze sweeping over the desolation. His fingertips brushed against a relatively intact stone wall, wiping away the thick dust and moss to reveal an intricately carved Tulip emblem beneath.
The emblem was weathered, but its outline remained, bearing witness to the glory of yesteryears. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, his voice tinged with a trace of nostalgia for the bygone:
"It’s become so dilapidated..."
At that moment, he heard the rustle of footsteps from behind. The boy Alse approached timidly, his small hands nervously twisting the hem of his worn clothes. He looked up, and with a mix of anxiety and dependence, he asked, "S-Sir, may I ask... where is this place?"
Lynch, hearing this, turned his head in slight surprise to look at Alse: "You’re asking me where this is?" His tone held a note of incredulousness, "You don’t know where this place is?"
Alse, feeling a bit uneasy under Lynch’s gaze, shook his head blankly, his little face full of genuine confusion, clearly having no impression of the ruins.
Lynch couldn’t help but furrow his brow, a hint of doubt flickering in his gray eyes. If it weren’t for that unmistakable spiritual connection from deep within the bloodline, guiding him as clearly as a beacon, he might have doubted his own judgment.
From the first glance at this boy, Lynch felt a strong sense of familiarity. That face was almost identical to that of his contemporary apprentice, Yuri Stock, as if carved from the same mold.
The Stock family’s genes seemed exceptionally strong; whether it was Yuri’s father, brother, or Yuri himself, or even the boy before him, they all shared that distinct and recognizable face.
With the surname "Stock," the answer was already self-evident.
But he could never have imagined that Alse, a descendent of the Stock family who had grown up on this land, would know nothing about this place!
This was once the ancestral domain of their family—a land famous for its four-season blooms, especially the magnificent tulips—the "Tulip Domain"! That place, in his memory, was always vibrant and fragrant.
Now, the flowers had long since withered, the castle reduced to ruins, and even the descendants of the family had forgotten the original name and glory of this land.
Times change, fortunes rise and fall.
Looking at Alse’s face full of innocent ignorance, and then at the bleak desolation before him, an indescribable sense of lament for the passage of time and a feeling of the futility of it all quietly rose in Lynch’s heart.
Lynch gazed into Alse’s eyes, so reminiscent of his old friend yet so ignorant, softening his tone as he gently asked, "Alse, can you tell me, have you always lived in Glory City? What do your parents do? And your ancestors, do you know anything about them?"
Seeing that this mysterious and powerful man spoke gently, Alse’s nervousness eased a bit, and he answered earnestly, "Yes, sir, I grew up in Glory City, running around the alleys." He gestured in the general direction of Glory City.
"My father," the boy’s eyes brightened a bit at the mention of his father, "he was a blacksmith, working in the Blacksmith Shop in the west of the city. His hands were very skillful; he could make very good hoes and sickles..."
But then his voice dropped, with a tinge of hard-to-detect sorrow, "But he’s passed away now, and my mother followed not long after."
"My mother was a seamstress," he continued, "she mended clothes for neighbors and sometimes took on jobs altering old robes. She always said that without her skills, relying solely on my father’s blacksmithing, we might not even have enough to eat..."
When it came to his ancestors, Alse’s face showed a clear bewilderment, and he shook his head vigorously: "As for my grandparents... and earlier ancestors, I really don’t know. My parents never told me much about them, as if... it wasn’t allowed to be brought up."
He tried to recall the occasional whispers from his parents, unsure, he added, "I just vaguely remember them mentioning that our family wasn’t always living in Glory City. It was long ago, because there were terrible famines and wars in a far place, that they had to flee here. Other than that, I really don’t know."
The boy lifted his face, his clear eyes filled with total honesty, along with a slight unease about the blankness in his family history.
Lynch quietly listened to Alse’s account, and when he heard that the boy’s parents had passed away, a trace of subtle sorrow flickered in his gray eyes. After a moment of silence, he asked in a more gentle tone:
"So... it’s just you left in your family now?"
Alse nodded slightly, his little hand unconsciously clutching the hem of his clothes, trying hard not to let the tears in his eyes fall. His attempt at bravery only made him seem even more alone and helpless.
Lynch looked at the face that almost overlapped with that of his old friend in memory, now showing such desolation, and the wistful sigh for the passage of time gradually transformed into a more tangible sense of responsibility. He continued to ask kindly:
"So, what are your plans from here on out?"
Alse raised his head, his eyes reflecting a resoluteness born of desperation, along with a cautious consideration beyond his years:
"I... I can’t go back to Glory City. The Church won’t let me go." He paused, casting his gaze toward the North, with a glimmer of hope, "I heard... if you keep going north, across the vast wilderness, you can reach a place called the Ramos Duchy. There... there’s no Church, and people can live freely, without living in fear every day... I want to try my luck there."
His voice initially held a hint of yearning, but as he spoke, it grew fainter, clearly aware of how slim the chances were for a child to travel alone across the wilderness to reach the rumored land.