Chapter 340: Black Prison Castle

Chapter 340: The Dark Prison Castle

The dinner Ventura ordered was delivered by the hotel staff, along with the daily allowance of tobacco and alcohol.

After finishing his dinner, Karen returned to his bedroom to rest, falling asleep quickly as the intense studying during the day had drained much of his energy.

Upon waking, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was a quarter to four in the morning.

"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy."

Karen got out of bed and walked into the washroom to freshen up. According to the syllabus, today's lesson was supposed to be on Group Combat.

Although the first two classes had faced some minor complications, it was undeniable that the teaching results were remarkably significant.

While the elders had participated merely out of boredom and an itch to do something, they harbored no intention of holding anything back, genuinely wanting to teach. Even if they were not proper teachers, their own mastery was high enough that whatever little they shook loose was more than sufficient for the young people.

He applied a hot towel to his face, and after a good while, Karen removed it, taking a deep breath. Well, he looked forward to today's Group Combat lesson.

Stepping out of the washroom, he cast a glance at the clock; it was two minutes to four.

Karen left the bedroom and came into the small living room, just as Ventura was coming downstairs.

"Up so early?"

"Yes, Captain, because I went to bed early last night, hehe."

Ventura first poured ice water for Karen, and then a knock sounded at the door, bypassing the doorbell.

Once Ventura opened the door, Karen, sitting on the sofa, saw Iceley, Bart, Marth, and Blanche all file inside.

"Good morning, Captain."

"Morning, Captain."

Karen nodded and replied, "Morning."

He recalled telling them yesterday that he would wake up at four, so they had all arrived right on the dot.

The premise of "it is good to be young" was that one was willing to study more while young, rather than using youth as an excuse to constantly compromise with oneself.

Based on Karen's experience from his previous life, as one grew older, learning ability and focus would inevitably decline, unless an unyielding self-discipline had established a momentum of studying and striving before then;

otherwise, one would become like fresh clay placed under the sun, which, once dried and set, could hardly be kneaded or altered again.

Bart and the others brought along their allowance of tobacco and alcohol from yesterday, fully embodying their captain's spirit in this regard.

Ventura tidied these up first; the suitcase explicitly set aside for this was already getting too full to shut.

These items could not be carried back, so they would be exchanged for points at a nearby black market during a break after the training ended.

They sat around the coffee table, airing their doubts from yesterday's lessons, while Karen resolved them based on what he had learned yesterday and his own past experiences.

This quiet yet fervent atmosphere of academic exchange lasted until nearly eight o'clock, and it was only when they prepared to go downstairs to assemble for class that everyone realized they had not eaten breakfast.

In the end, they grabbed plenty of bread and milk from the hotel staff cafeteria on their way down, rushing to the assembly point while eating.

Muri's squad members were already waiting on the beach, and watching Karen's squad run toward them while eating, none of them assumed they had overslept and failed to eat a proper breakfast; they all realized:

Damn it! They held a secret morning meeting!

There were only two squads in this training session, equivalent to two small classes, and the rival class secretly putting in extra effort bound to inflict immense pressure on them.

Muri approached Karen, who was drinking milk, reached out to take one of Karen's loaves of bread, tore open the wrapper for him, and handed it back:

"So, you guys had another meeting this morning?"

"An internal discussion." Karen looked at his team members behind him and smiled faintly. "It is rare to be taught by mentors of this caliber, so we cherish it deeply."

These words placed his stance quite low, because Muri's squad far surpassed Karen's in terms of family background. Yet as genuine scions of elite families, they showed no interest in flaunting their heritage, just as most normal people would not view having bread in hand as a token for vanity.

"Well, what I meant was, next time you have an internal discussion, could you include our squad as well?"

"You want to join us too?"

Karen really had not expected Muri to make such a request.

Well, ever since he entered the Church of Order, the only 'second-generation' elites who matched his preconceptions were Vicole and his grandfather.

The other young masters, like Leon and Laure, though inherently reserved and proud, were by no means foolish.

"Of course, you are welcome. It is a good opportunity to exchange ideas and progress together."

Muri smiled and said, "Thank you."

Class time arrived, and a small cruise ship appeared ahead. After it pulled up to the shore, the crew gestured for everyone to board.

Karen suspected this cruise ship was temporarily borrowed by the training base from a nearby hotel, as there were still pieces of intimate apparel left in the crevices.

This meant only one thing: today's lesson had undergone a last-minute change.

What kind of sudden change would it be?

Karen figured the training base must have grown accustomed to it by now, given that the old men had already hijacked their classes for two consecutive days.

The cruise ship sailed deeper into the open sea, and after about half an hour, an island appeared ahead, featuring a watchtower.

After the boat docked, everyone disembarked and waded onto the island, where two people stood on the shore.

An elderly man dressed in a white suit, and a young man in a black suit whose age seemed slightly younger than most people present, perhaps only a year or two older than Ventura.

Most importantly, the elder stood behind the young man, which fully illustrated the hierarchy.

"Do you know them?" Karen asked Muri.

"That elder should be Husen, the Director of the Tactical Office at the Whip of Order Headquarters, as my father told me over the phone yesterday. But the young one, I do not recognize him, nor do I know anything about him."

The two captains stood in the front row, with their squad members lining up behind them.

The old man in the white suit spoke up:

"I am your teaching assistant for today's class; you may call me Director Husen. This is your mentor for today, Mavaryo.

Actually, I was originally supposed to teach you today, but since Mavaryo has arrived, I shall yield to him. He will pass down to you a true weapon of group combat."

Karen noticed that Husen did not include any title when introducing Mavaryo, which meant the young man in the black suit held no official position.

Mavaryo's gaze swept over everyone in front of him, and he spoke: "Hello everyone, I am Mavaryo, and I have no surname."

Everyone immediately said in unison, "Teacher."

Mavaryo smiled slightly and said, "Actually, I am about the same age as you all."

A teacher... about the same age as us?

Mavaryo did not dwell further on the topic of age, but instead cut straight to the point: "The theme of today's lesson is Group Combat. I know many of you come from the Knights Templar. I want to ask you, do you know of a weapon of war called the Dark Prison Castle?"

Bart spoke up: "Yes, it is a mobile fortress of war, a war spell created by the great Lord Marchetti."

Marchetti, one of the Twelve Knights under the God of Order described in the mythological narratives of the Light of Order, specialized in the forging of implements of war.

Karen had read the Light of Order many times, and Marchetti's position among the Twelve Knights was much like a logistics steward; whenever he appeared in the records of successive divine wars, the text always noted what he provided, what he prepared, or what he manufactured.

"Yes, exactly. It is a spell created by Marchetti, born solely for the purpose of war."

With that,

Mavaryo extended his palm forward and said in a deep voice:

Order War—Dark Prison Castle

Beneath his feet, a massive, black, star-shaped sigil manifested instantly; immediately following, the surrounding winds, laden with untold numbers of invisible forces, began to converge upon this spot.

Upon witnessing this sight, Bart and the other team members who possessed backgrounds in the chivalric orders all revealed expressions of profound astonishment.

"Is he going to condense the Black Prison Castle entirely on his own?"

As Karen sensed the winds swirling around them, not even he could fully discern at that moment what manner of substance was being dragged into the vortex, but beneath Mavallio's feet, a layer of black material clearly materialized, like black sand swept along by the gale, which began to align in an orderly sequence as it piled up.

It felt as though a house were being built—a house constructed entirely out of the wind.

The foundation appeared, the gates appeared, the ramparts appeared, the battlements appeared, rising higher, higher, and higher still!

Ultimately, it formed a miniature black castle.

Judging by the height of the outer walls alone, it stood at roughly twelve meters, enclosing a circular area spanning approximately three hundred square meters.

Within this circle stood three structures, interconnected with one another yet inextricably bound to the defensive walls.

The central structure was the tallest, resembling a watchtower, though its highest peak gleamed with a dark, reflective sheen; when it overturned, a cannon muzzle was revealed within.

The flanking structures stood at only two-thirds the height of the center; at the top of the left sat a massive ballista, while the right held a colossal mirror.

In the center of the outer wall, there was also a grand gate.

It was difficult to imagine that in a mere few moments, a small castle had appeared right before everyone's eyes.

Standing behind Karen, Bart introduced: "The artillery at the highest point is a Judgment-class Mana Crystal Cannon, generally responsible for long-range bombardment.

The massive ballista on the left is a B-rank War Penetration Crossbow, tasked with close-range sniping.

The mirror surface on the right is a Reiss Thaumaturgical Mirror, which can reflect and amplify the intensity of formations and spells, usually serving defensive purposes.

The Black Prison Castle is a tactical spell deployed by the chivalric orders at the battalion level, designed to provide our forces with superior defensive and offensive strongpoints during warfare, yet this is a weapon of war that can only be summoned by an entire battalion, and it requires authorization from at least the commander or deputy commander to be activated."

"So, he has summoned it all by himself now?" Karen asked.

"As you can see, yes, Captain."

"Do you know this spell?" Karen asked.

Bart pursed his lips and said, "Captain, it isn't a matter of whether one knows it or not; it requires authorization."

"Authorization?"

Clack!

At that moment, the grand gate swung open.

Husen stood at the entrance, making a gesturing motion of "after you" to everyone before stepping inside himself.

The crowd followed him in.

The space inside was not particularly large—it was merely a small castle after all—and once they entered, the staircase of the tallest central structure proved to be quite narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time.

When they had first approached, Karen had noticed that the gate was actually an "illusion"; although it looked very much like a massive iron gate, it was merely an appearance.

Not only that, but the black steps they trod upon beneath their feet were also illusory, not composed of real substance, but rather resembling a form of crystallized energy.

By the time they climbed to two-thirds of the height, the Penetration Crossbow and the Reiss Thaumaturgical Mirror were positioned on either flank, meaning the flanking structures possessed no internal architecture of their own; the only way up or down was through this central building, and only from Karen's current position could one access the summits of the side structures.

Karen intentionally lingered here a bit longer; because those behind him were all members of his own squad, he did not have to worry about causing anyone's displeasure.

In fact, Karen even took the initiative to step toward one side, reaching out to caress the Penetration Crossbow; this ballista was a real, tangible entity, a sacred artifact.

Furthermore, wrapped around the ballista were strands of translucent, shimmering thread; viewed from the side, these threads appeared black, identical to the color of the floor and walls.

The team members made way for Karen as he walked to the other side to examine the Reiss Thaumaturgical Mirror; this mirror was also real, and it too was laced with threads.

Karen believed that the Judgment Mana Crystal Cannon at the very peak of the central building must also be real, existing in a state similar to these two sacred artifacts.

What did this resemble?

Karen frowned slightly, an utterly improper analogy surfacing in his mind:

The cannon, the ballista, and the mirror were like three lightbulbs, while this castle not only provided a mount for them, but the castle itself was the wiring.

Controlled by the castle, these three weapons of war functioned; further up, in the space beneath the cannon, there should be a platform, which likely served as the control room.

Through that platform, one could "remotely" command these three weapons of war to execute long-range strikes, close-range attacks, and defenses.

Yet, was such a castle constructed merely to serve as a set of electrical wires?

Karen reached out and touched the wall; it was not hard, but rather somewhat soft, akin to the texture of his own Sea God Armor—soft, though that did not mean its defensive capability was lacking; on the contrary, so long as the interior could provide sufficient spiritual power to maintain its operation, its defensive power would be staggering, and it would even possess self-repairing capabilities.

But what was the purpose of doing this?

The three weapons of war were likely physical objects summoned into place, somewhat like a refrigerator in one's home, while the part truly manufactured out of thin air was the black architectural structure of the castle itself.

True, it could defend, it could attack, and it could serve as an incredibly reliable strongpoint, but the problem was... its cost-effectiveness was simply too low.

Erecting it, maintaining it, and utilizing it all required the support of a massive amount of spiritual power.

This ratio of input to output was truly just as Mr. Hoffen's notes had described array masters: preparing a forbidden-level formation merely to drive away a mosquito that had wandered into the bedroom.

On the battlefield, with that amount of effort, one might as well conserve energy for defense and offense; Karen truly could not comprehend the objective of conjuring this.

Unless...

Its spiritual power support did not originate from the summoner themselves—at least, not entirely.

Only in this way would it possess any practical value.

Karen continued upward, arriving at a platform where there were further stairs leading up, presumably to the topmost mount where the mana crystal cannon was stationed.

And here on the platform, there were eight long, narrow windows, providing an ample field of vision while simultaneously accounting for defensiveness.

In the center of the platform rested a black sphere, which exuded a mysterious aura; it seemed alive, as though it were squirming.

Upon this sphere, Karen actually detected an aura similar to the Key of the Magic Cube; thus, this sphere was the control nexus of the castle.

A black vine extended from the sphere, wrapping around Mavallio's wrist, meaning that the operation of this entire castle was now held in his grasp.

Of course, Karen believed that many more black vines could extend from this black sphere, allowing others to assist in controlling various parts of the castle together.

Mavallio spoke, "Welcome to the Black Prison Castle."

Muri asked, "Is this what we are learning today?"

Mavallio nodded and said, "Yes, exactly."

Muri asked again, "But what about the authorization?"

Clearly, Muri had also conversed with his own team members during the ascent.

Mavallio replied, "Given the exceptional nature of your entry into the Gate of Samsara this time, as well as the nature of the mission you are about to undertake, authorization for the Black Prison Castle will be granted to your two squads individually."

Karen tilted his head back slightly; Bart hesitated for a moment before looking toward Mars—though both came from the chivalric orders, Mars was obviously more familiar with this area, being a formation master.

Mars immediately leaned close behind Karen's neck and whispered, "Captain, the authorization for the Black Prison Castle is held by a divine artifact at the Supreme Temple; once we obtain authorization, we can resonate with that divine artifact, and its power will descend, helping us shoulder nearly eighty to ninety percent of the castle's consumption."

Karen understood; the difficult part was not the spell itself—the difficulty of this spell was actually not that great—the difficult part was obtaining authorization, which meant registering your identity certification upon that divine artifact located within the Temple of Order.

No matter how high the difficulty, there was always a possibility of success, but if authorization could not be obtained, it was absolutely impossible.

Even if you truly conjured an identical castle, it would merely be a very luxurious yet utterly useless... piece of art.

But if one could rely on the power of a divine artifact to offset eighty to ninety percent of the consumption, then the cost-effectiveness of this castle instantly became prominent.

Mavallio spoke, "Now, I shall grant the two of you authorization credentials here. Please have each of your two squads elect one person to receive this authorization."

Remember, once granted, this authority will accompany a person forever, until his death or expulsion from the Order.”

This meant that the individual, not the entire squad, was the recipient of this power. Furthermore, so long as one did not betray the Order of Order, they would retain the right to resonate with that mighty artifact until the day they died. It was tantamount to receiving, out of thin air, the "Artifact's Protection"—a privilege normally reserved strictly for the commanders and deputy commanders of the Knights Templar.

It was a breathtaking temptation, a boon that would endure for a lifetime.

Mavaryo continued, “My recommendation is that the person who receives this authority should ideally satisfy the following criteria as much as possible:

First, leadership—which is to say, tactical command capabilities.

Second, familiarity with formations, given that this castle operates fundamentally as a grand array.

Third, strength of soul, which serves as the crucial anchor for binding and resonating with the artifact.

Fourth, spiritual power. In the event of an emergency or unforeseen crisis, the bearer of this authority will be the primary source to supply the energy required to maintain the castle.

Very well, you may now begin discussing your nominees.”

Immediately following his words,

Mavaryo fixed his gaze upon Muri’s squad. An internal debate instantly erupted within their ranks. As the captain, Muri naturally coveted the authority, but Degat and Pasio, the squad's formation masters, harbored desires of their own, while Ilaman, with his knightly background, was also intent on fighting for himself.

Sensing the watchful eyes of his mentor, Muri spoke up, “Please wait a moment, Teacher. Our squad will hold a vote.”

“Very well.”

Mavaryo turned his head toward Karen’s squad.

Every single member beside Karen

took a step back.