Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe-Chapter 1636: Mourning Mountains

Far to the east of Europa, more than a thousand miles north of the border shared by the Haynam Empire and the Sovereign Union, lay a vast mountain range swallowed by mist.

The Mourning Mountains.

Jagged peaks rose high into the sky, but their true height was rarely seen. Thick gray fog stuck to the mountains at all hours, rolling endlessly between the ridges and valleys. The mists were so dense that even seasoned travelers could lose their way within seconds.

Trails vanished without warning, and landmarks disappeared behind shifting curtains of fog. Compasses and other navigational tools were often rendered useless.

Because of this, few people ever dared to cross the region.

Most travelers and merchants avoided it entirely, choosing longer routes rather than risking the dangerous terrain and the disorienting mists.

Yet deep within this concealed wilderness, hidden among the fog-covered mountains, the Cult of Bones had established a secret base.

It was a place of great importance to them, one they believed the world would never find.

This was where the Cult gathered abducted children from all over the world...

Here, deep within the hidden valleys of the Mourning Mountains, they carried out their experiments, twisting young bodies and minds in an attempt to create suitable vessels for their leader.

Most of the children never survived.

And those who did were broken down and rebuilt through crude and violent methods. Their memories were erased, their wills shattered, and their loyalties reshaped until they belonged entirely to the Cult.

They would then be kept alive, awaiting the day their leader might find use for them.

Years ago, the Cult had conducted these vile experiments in Ironridge City.

But after the disaster that befell the place when the Hidden Ruler attacked, the site was naturally abandoned.

Seeking greater secrecy, the Cult Leader personally carved out his new stronghold within the depths of the Mourning Mountains.

Hidden beneath endless mist and surrounded by treacherous terrain, the place was all but impossible to find.

Which was precisely why he chose it.

***

Miles away from the hidden base, deep within the mist-covered mountains, Krummor Grimriver — Warden of the Twilight Brotherhood — led a dozen Agents through the harsh terrain.

The fog hung thick near the ground, swallowing sound and blurring the outlines of the rocky slopes. Even moving a short distance ahead became extremely difficult in the shifting mist.

After weeks of careful travel, they finally neared their destination. Krummor finally raised a hand and signaled the group to stop. They had reached a narrow clearing between two steep rock faces, a place sheltered enough to serve as a temporary camp.

The Agents quickly set about securing the base, keeping the movements quiet and controlled.

Krummor then pulled out a worn map and studied it under the dim glow of a lantern. If not for the map Berger had given them, they would have been hopelessly lost by now.

As the dwarf gazed at the map in his hands, he couldn’t help but subconsiously gulp. He was still filled with disbelief, despite trusting Berger enough to embark on this top-secret mission.

If this truly leads to that place, then we will have struck a decisive blow to the Cult!

This was indeed the map that pointed to the secret base the Cult of Bones operated in the depths of the Mourning Mountains.

When Berger had first handed it to him, Krummor had been stunned speechless. The map alone was already a valuable piece of intelligence.

But what shocked him even more was learning how the information had been obtained in the first place.

According to Berger, Adam had spent years working as a spy within the Cult of Bones. During that time, he had quietly gathered and pieced together fragments of highly sensitive information, eventually uncovering the location of this hidden base.

Kurmmor was thunderstruck to learn that the Dark King had been working undercover in the Cult of Bones. In fact, he even went so far as to suspect that the young man had played a role in the event that later came to be known as the Great Purge within the Brotherhood.

He was snapped back to his senses when an Agent approached him and asked in a hushed voice, "My Lord, just... what exactly are we doing here?"

The man shared the sentiments of the other Agents in the group as well. These people, they all they knew was that they were coming out on some highly secretive mission, and they’d have to venture deep into the Mourning Mountains.

Apart from that, they knew nothing. They could only find solace in the fact that the operation was being led by Warden Grimriver and had been personally approved by Councilor Glynhorn.

Krummor put away the map inside his storage artifact. He scanned the faces of the dozen or so Agents and said in a solemn voice, "This is a rescue mission, lads."

The Agents were perplexed. They exchanged quick glances, and they could see the confusion and also a flicker of apprehension in one another’s eyes.

Just who were they here to rescue? In the heart of the Mourning Mountains, no less.

Seeing the tense expressions on his men’s faces, Krummor assured them. "If we succeed... we will have dealt a very heavy blow to the Cult of Bones."

At his words, the Agents exchanged grim looks. The memory of the Great Purge resurfaced in their minds. One by one, their faces hardened, brows furrowing as anger replaced the earlier tension.

Some clenched their fists, while others stared silently into the mist with restrained fury.

They had not forgotten what the Cult had done. The rage still remained in their hearts, despite almost a decade having passed since the incident.

If this mission could strike back at the vile organization that had casued them so much loss, then there was little they would not be willing to do.

"Understood, my lord!" The Agent said solemnly. "So what are our next actions?"

Krummor glanced toward the mist-covered slopes and replied calmly, "We wait."

Right at that moment, a faint rustling sound drifted through the fog. Instantly, every member of the Brotherhood went on alert, their hands moving toward their weapons or spell components.

"Easy..." Krummor gestured for his men to relax.

Then shapes began to appear in the mist. One by one, a dozen dark silhouettes emerged from the fog-covered slopes.

Leading them was a towering young man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

The moment his gaze landed on the dwarf, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Krummor Grimriver?" He asked cautiously, though he already knew the answer.

After all, what were the chances of finding another dwarf matching the same descriptions in this forsaken place?

Krummor slowly nodded. "And you are?"

The blue-eyed youth’s lips curled into a smirk.

"The name’s Turner... Edward Turner."