MMORPG: Rebirth of the Mortal Online

Chapter 120: Festival of the Godswood



It was cold. Bone-chillingly cold. The wind whipped through the air, making it feel even colder, and it didn't help that the sea's icy waters lapped at the rock.

Adam was hunched right in the middle of the small rock. He was shivering, regretting many of his choices.

There wasn't much to do on this godforsake rock except shiver in the cold, avoid splashes of water, and look blankly ahead at the hovering interface.

He was looking at the health bar, watching as it slowly dropped. It was almost like a clock ticking down to his demise.

Without last night's storm, it wouldn't be so cold. Instead, it could be rather warm as summer was approaching, only a couple of months away.

Now, because of last night's storm, the sun is hidden behind a blanket of clouds. The wind howled as well, unfortunately enough.

Adam had already changed his clothes several times. Unfortunately, it only took a half hour or so before they were drenched again.

With a shaky hand that trembled like a leaf in the wind, he retrieved a whistle, placed it between his lips, and blew weakly.

The whistle's weak sound echoed for a short distance.

It was worthless in this situation.

The whistle was never designed to travel long distances. It was only meant to alert someone nearby.

With the same trembling hand, he put it back in the safety of his inventory.

The sea breeze picked up, and the waves again started to swallow the rock whole. It wasn't as big a wave as yesterday. Very small waves, barely ankle-height, but the rock was already barely above the surface, and now it disappeared completely under a thin layer of water.

Adam's buttocks felt the cold water seep through his shorts.

The water then receded and left the rock. It became dryer, but still damp.

'Amella...' Adam suddenly thought.

She was a person he knew from his past life. Not closely. However, he was still somewhat familiar with her. The way she acted today was strange.

'Well, the way she spoke, she wanted to avoid the future, which I know that'll happen to her...'

...

Five years ago, the festival of the Godswood.

The blooming cherry blossoms fell from thick-trunked trees that almost seemed like they were half-alive and made the ground look pink.

A large festival was ongoing. Tents were put up, hundreds of them, around the entrance of the forest.

It was a special hunting festival. Those with brave hearts and steel minds would enter the wretched forest of Godswood. Unlike its beautiful appearance, it was a hellish landscape of death and decay.

Those with brave hearts and steel minds would saddle up on their horses and join the hunting party—they would go to the depths of the Godswood in hopes of slaying a famous God Beast, Kalayavan.

A golden tent was put up at the center of the festival area. It was the tallest, most glorious, and longest tent of them all. A banner of the Imperial Order swayed in the gentle breeze of spring.

The leaders of a dozen different guilds were gathered inside. They would be representing their guilds at the hunting party.

Whoever gets the final kill on the God Beast will also receive all glory. Therefore, it was also a competition.

The flap of the tent suddenly opened, and a mature-bodied woman entered, her long, purple hair cascading down her back. She walked rather slowly. Most likely because of her round, pregnant belly.

Beside her beauty, her pinkish skin also took the attention away from the guild masters. "Thanks for coming, sires." Amella spoke with a weak-sounding voice and took a seat at the head of the table.

"Where's the king? He was supposed to be here."

"My husband is unfortunately sick," she said. "Therefore, I am here as her spokeswoman." It disappointed many of them, but they still nodded and didn't show their displeasure. She was still one of the king's many wives and had become quite powerful in her own right. "We have received a sighting of the God Beast." Amella said and opened the map of the Godswood on the table. "Right there..."

Her finger was tapping at the area of the map that was red in color. It was one of those danger zones. They all expected it, but it was much deeper in the forest than they expected.

"Any questions?" she asked.

A person raised a hand. He was tall and broad-shouldered. A serious face, battle-hardened, and a small beard budding on his chin.

At the back, on his shield, was a sigil of a platinum lion.

"Yes?" Amella turned to the unfamiliar man. "You are...?"

"My name's Adam Palestar, madam." Adam introduced himself.

"Oh, Platinum Mercenaries, correct?"

"That's right, madam."

"What is your question, sir?"

The other guild masters stayed silent. They had, of course, heard the name lately. They were all renowned guild masters, battle-hardened by the Great Guild War.

However, currently, the new rising star-The Adam-was on the tongue of everyone.

While he was yet to be as powerful as others currently, Royal Mercenary-for some odd reason, powerful mercenaries flocked to his newly-created guild like crows around a corpse.

No one knew why, except the ones that joined him.

They had faith in Adam. His charm, wit, and intelligence had a magnetic effect that drew

people in.

"I'd like to offer a ceasefire." Adam said with a smile.

"Ceasefire...?"

Amella asked, uncertain of what he meant.

"In this tent, half of the men won't return." Adam looked at others. They knew it as well. "The biggest casualty is the result of the competition."

"I think it is such a waste. The festival of the Godswood was supposed to bring others closer. This is pretty counter-intuitive. I know everyone wants to slay the God Beast and claim glory,

but at what cost?

"Every year, during the festival of the Godswood, five, six, sometimes even nine guild masters perish in the hands of Kalayavan before that beast is finally killed.

"If we work together, that number can become zero, can it not?"

Amella stared at him silently. Then she looked at others. They threw snarky looks in Adam's direction, thinking that he was just a foolish, naive child.

They would never work together. Their pride was rock hard, their ego as big as the Godswood mountain, and their desire to win at all costs was blinding them to the possibility of

cooperation.

"Alright..." Amella smiled. "Everyone, I give you an order, in the name of King Moriarty, the hero of humanity, the Ruler of the Originals and the First Men. You must work together."

A silence fell over the tent. They were surprised. They looked at each other and wondered whether they would be trustworthy. They couldn't possibly put their lives in their hands! "If you break the oath, you'll be branded as a traitor to the crown." Amella said with a cold,

chilly smile.

They all paled. None of them were foolish enough to go against the crown. It was just one pathway to an early grave.

"Also," Amella looked at a smiling Adam and said. "Since this was your suggestion, if you let

even one of them die, it'll be on you, and you'll be forbidden from participating in this

festival in the future."

"Alright." Adam said with a cocky, confident smile.

It made Amella wonder. Why is he so confident? Was he so confident in his strength? He

should be weaker than the other guild masters present. They were all Prime Mercenaries, after

all.

No. Adam was not confident in his strength. He was confident in the shield on his back.

"Not a single harm will come to them." Adam said with a smile. "That's my oath."

Amella's eyes widened into round orbs. Her heart skipped a beat. She realized something. Adam was not an ordinary mercenary.

Mercenaries were often warriors. A sword and spear were their tools of the trade. But Adam was different; he was a protector.

'I heard rumors about him. In the town of Yale, he protected thousands of Originals with just

his shield and sword. Ordinary mercenaries would just let them die and focus on their own

profit.

'He didn't let anyone die that day...'

-

"Whoo..." Adam breathed out cold air.

He returned from his dream world. He was back at the wretched, godforsaken rock. It was

almost like he could still feel the warmth of that tent.

The smell of burned wood and the sound of crackling logs.

He missed that dearly.

"I-I need some rest..." Adam rested his head on his knees, his eyes closing into a peaceful rest. It looked like he was

just going to have a short nap.

However, his health started dropping at an increased speed. With this speed, it wouldn't even

take another five minutes before he died.

Rumble- Rumble- Rumble-

A rumbling sound, almost sounding like the rumbling of thunder, sounded. Yet, there was no thunder. It came from the air, somewhere.

A short while later, a figure appeared in the air above the rock. His legs were kicking in the air.

With each kick, the air exploded, and it allowed him to stay on the air, as if he were airwalking.

With each explosion, a rumbling sound trembled across the sea. It was the result of this figure's airwalk.

He landed on the small rock, his shoes landing on the underwater part of the rock, but he didn't care that his shoes and socks got wet.

He took Adam into his arms, holding him steadily against his chest, which warmed the

freezing young man.

"..." Zephyr looked at the young man with his deep, navy eyes. "He does look like you..."