A New World, An Immersive Game Experience
682 Planting the second memorial flower
Eldrian wished that he could have spared some time to learn a flight spell, though teleportation would still be far faster. The feeling of the flight was just so different, but Eldrian didn't want to bother Ceph for this.
As a matter of course getting into the city of Vlisia had required some string-pulling, after all, they were still on high guard. Especially since the king was still in the city. That was where being the guest of the duke came in nice and handy.
Stepping out of the magic tower, Eldrian was shocked by what welcomed his eyes. The city looked far worse than Kynigo had on its worst day. The orcs had all fought to the last, a destructive rage having driven them insane. Or so he had heard.
Even in a part of the city that had been seen far less devastation, the smell of blood still filled the air. The familiar metallic smell reminded Eldrian just how real this was.
The carnage of a ruined city, it reminded Eldrian yet again that this was what war looked like. War was never pretty, and magic just made this even more so. From afar it might make the war look beautiful, but up close it was horrifying.
Thinking of this, Eldrian was reminded of Diades. If he had been far enough to not be in danger. And if he could distance himself and imagine this a game. Then certainly it would have looked like an amazing fantasy battle. The deaths of all those in the city would not have mattered, but they did.
While not a great comfort, some comfort was that while magic made war more destructive, it also made recovery quicker. Given that those who survived could use magic. This did not just count for the buildings and landscape, but also for those who had been escaped injured.
As long as there were enough healers of sufficient strength, they would not need to spend days, weeks, months, or perhaps even years recovering from the aftermath. The only lasting trauma would be their memories and their lost loved ones.
Eldrian gripped the tiny flower in his hand upon thinking of this. It would help, but nothing could ever fully heal that pain. Even after coming to accept your loss and moving out of grief, the hole left after losing someone would remain. It might never be possible to fill that hole again.
Walking through the rubble, Eldrian noticed the distinct lack of human, demi-human, or centaur corpses. Clearly, the remaining soldiers and citizens had prioritized them over the corpses of the orcs, which were scattered throughout and already starting to rot in the sun.
They would have to be cleared to prevent the spread of disease, but taking care of the living and dead of your own side came first. This was normal, but looking at all these Eldrian felt a heavyweight in his heart.
He did not understand why they had chosen to die in battle instead of retreating. He wasn't sure if it was insanity, culture, religion, or Miracle's tampering. And this last part made him unable to feel this justified, they were monsters sure. Barbaric by nature, but even wild beasts deserved better.
Though if one were to look at nature then this was normal, the dead would be eaten by scavenger beasts and what is left would rot. But orcs, while barbaric, were a step above animals. They could think, albeit with a broken sense of rationality.
Eldrian wasn't even sure if their barbaric nature was truly natural or if it was something brought onto them by their culture and environment.
All this brought forth a strong inner conflict inside Eldrian's heart. He did not blame the city for their handling of this. This was completely normal. 'Do I hate war? Why did I ever even want to play the game?'
This question truly shocked Eldrian, obviously, when he had bought ANW almost two years back now, he had done so with the hope of being a dashing hero charging into hordes of monsters. Monsters are just like these orcs.
And now... Now he was looking at them and pondering their intent, their reasons, their beliefs, and even their circumstance. Trying to decipher why they would choose to die instead of falling back. Such an action was not a natural one, it was the exact opposite. Nature's instinct was self-preservation or the preservation of the next generation. This was neither.
Of course, war was never a natural thing. But it had roots in this natural instinct of preservation. For the aim of war was conquest, and the more you had the more assured you were to not just survive but thrive. Yet, why had they fought?
'Was it a stupid blind pride? A cultural or religious belief? Or is this Miracle pressing for the destruction of the last bastions of life?'
Having never been religious, Eldrian almost wished now that he was. That he could turn to someone, to something to ask for guidance in this insanity. Alas, all he could do was steal his heart and resolve.
'Should I aim to eradicate those opposed to us?' Eldrian felt the answer was no, but what then would be his goal if he could stop Miracle?
As Eldrian neared where the fighting had been most intense, the scenes turned worse and worse. Even with a few days having passed since the intense battle, the area still looked like one would expect a field of battle to look like. Only lacking the corpses of those from the kingdom.
Here the metallic smell of blood was much stronger, as was the smell of rot. In fact, the latter almost came to the level of the smell brought forth by the undead. This worried Eldrian, and upon reaching out to the surrounding mana he immediately tensed.
Using mana sense, he confirmed that the area was slowly turning into a birthing ground for the undead. If it were to actually reach that point then many more lives would certainly be lost. Gripping the tiny flower again, Eldrian rushed to the area with the densest collection of death mana.
Kneeling down amidst the broken corpses, Eldrian planted the tiny metallic flower.
"Spread roots and grow. Help us heal, help the land heal. I ask you to be a beacon of hope, to welcome those coming to mourn. Take roots, grow, and spread your seed through these lands." Eldrian felt awkward saying this, but he was starting to understand that words had power. He did not need them, but using them could improve his magic. In that case, why not use them?
As he finished the little metallic flower started to shine, the buds of the two flowers slowly opened and it started to grow. As it did it started drawing in the aura of rot in the area and even sent out a calming fresh smell of spring.
This finally caused the nearby soldiers to notice Eldrian's strange act and they immediately all became alert and worried. Especially so since the surrounding mana was acting strange.
Shockingly, before them this strange plant grew to the size of a person in seconds. It also no longer looked like a metallic flower, but instead some strange mutation of a daffodil and chrysanthemum. Two opposing flowers were somehow growing together.
"What have you done?!" One of the closest soldiers shouted, not daring to move closer to this strange elf and his mutant plant.
To them, Eldrian seemed like some mad scientist having just successfully planted a strange mutant plant in a death-rich environment. They were all tense, fearing the worst. The fact that one of the flowers was a Mortem, the flower of death, confirmed the fears in their hearts.
AN: A big thanks to everyone who continues to support the story by simply reading on Webnovel, voting for the story, or sharing comments. It is all greatly appreciated.
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