Not long after, a piece of news shook all of Skyrim.
Rumors spread that the Thalmor fortress of Northwatch Keep, used to hold rebels and prisoners, had been burned to the ground overnight. Flames lit the sky, and when soldiers arrived, all they found were the ruins engulfed in fire, and Thalmor soldiers' corpses skewered on long spears, standing upright in the snow.
As for the prisoners, they had vanished without a trace.
Naturally, this caused a great upheaval in the Empire. Soldiers were quickly dispatched to search, and some of the prisoners once held in Northwatch Keep were recaptured. They were tortured and interrogated, but their testimonies left everyone shocked—according to them, they had no idea what had happened. They claimed they had simply fallen asleep, and when they awoke, they were no longer in the cold underground prison of Northwatch Keep, but out on the sunny plains.
Because of this, these prisoners firmly insisted it was Talos who had manifested and saved them. This left Imperial soldiers confused, not sure what to believe. After all, this continent truly was under the protection of gods. Though Talos manifesting sounded like nonsense, perhaps… it wasn't entirely impossible.
After all, the facts were plain: at the site of Northwatch Keep, there had been no sign of the prisoners escaping. It was as if they had evaporated into thin air. And yet afterward, they reappeared in Skyrim's heartland. Unless they had all grown wings to fly, only divine intervention could explain it.
Not only that—afterward, Thalmor fortresses across Skyrim were attacked. No one knew who carried out the strikes, but every fortress was completely destroyed, and Thalmor soldiers were left impaled on spears, stuck into the ground, the exact same way.
This made the people of Skyrim ecstatic. In fact, even within the Empire itself, there was a conflicted attitude. On one hand, they naturally despised those damned beanpole Thalmor strutting about arrogantly. On the other hand, they worried such acts would incur the Thalmor's wrath.
And indeed, the Thalmor ambassador had already summoned the Emperor, demanding a thorough investigation—otherwise, the Thalmor would mobilize their armies and destroy the Empire completely!
"Do we really keep waiting, Sir Knight?"
Inside the tavern, Guleya fiddled nervously with her mug, while Duanmu Huai nodded.
"That's right. Destroying the Thalmor outposts, slaughtering their soldiers—this is all to provoke them into war. Once their armies assemble, I can annihilate them completely. A few Thalmor forts aren't the goal. They're just bait, set so I can wipe the Thalmor out."
"But the Empire… should we really not tell them anything?"
"This is a matter of the Inquisition and the xenos. It has nothing to do with the Empire."
Duanmu Huai shook his head.
"I won't let the Empire think I stand with them. The Inquisition protects humanity, not any government. We don't intervene in local political struggles. If the Empire can stabilize itself in the meantime, all the better. If it collapses from weakness, we don't care either. Do you understand?"
"…Yes, I understand."
Guleya was no fool. As a princess, she naturally understood what Duanmu Huai meant. If he contacted the Empire, no matter how it was framed, it would look like cooperation. The Empire might then act arrogantly, thinking it had the Inquisition's support, and when it committed atrocities, the Inquisition would be forced to shoulder the blame.
That was why Duanmu Huai kept the lines firmly separated. You do your thing, I do mine. As he said, the Inquisition protected humanity, not the Empire. The continuation of Imperial rule was irrelevant to them. If another regime proved better for humanity, the Inquisition would not oppose overthrowing the Empire.
Of course, as long as they weren't colluding with Chaos demons.
"Deng-deng-deng—!"
Just then, the crisp sound of a lute rang out. Duanmu Huai turned his head and saw a bard standing by the fire, playing and singing.
"Next, this song is dedicated to fearless warriors!"
Strumming as he sang, the bard's voice rose:
"Upon Skyrim's snowy wilds blows the wind of freedom.
Men drink mead deep, praising blood and glory.
But jackals creep in, seeking to ruin the feast.
Guests scream, scattering in terror.
The jackals gloat, strutting proud.
Yet the great god beheld them.
His warriors rode in black steel chariots, descending from the sky.
They swung their weapons, flaying the jackals bare, leaving corpses scattered afar.
The scrawny jackals fled with tails tucked, not daring to look back.
For they knew—behind them, the god's slaughter-blade was raised!"
When the song ended, the tavern erupted in cheers, mugs lifted high.
Duanmu Huai leaned back in his chair, nodding in satisfaction.
"Mm, not bad at all."
In fact, this ballad had spread soon after the Thalmor forts were destroyed. The "jackals" in the song were, of course, those detestable, uninvited High Elves. It was said that when the Thalmor ambassador heard the song, he smashed his cup in rage.
In the past, the Thalmor would have arrogantly hauled off any humans who dared sing such words. But with their forts destroyed, those arrogant elves now huddled trembling in their embassy, afraid to take a single step out, fearing the next to be impaled in the snow would be themselves.
Naturally, this delighted Skyrim's people, letting them finally vent their anger.
Amid the tavern's cheers, Duanmu Huai noticed the tavernkeeper approaching, face grave. He leaned close and spoke quietly.
"Forgive the interruption, warrior. The Jarl requests your presence…"
"Oh?"
Duanmu Huai was surprised. Though adventurers existed on this continent, there was no such thing as an adventurers' guild. Typically, adventurers seeking work went to taverns, whose keepers often had bounties or requests passed down from the local lord's men.
Duanmu Huai was currently in Falkreath, one of Skyrim's nine holds. Remote in deep forest, it was poorly connected but suited for rest. He had been staying there while waiting for the Thalmor to make their move. Occasionally he accepted requests, clearing out bandits or slaying beasts beyond the locals' ability. In time, he had gained a bit of a reputation.
But… what business did the Jarl have with him?
Surely it wasn't to ask him to investigate who was killing the Thalmor soldiers? Hahaha… no way, right?
"I understand. I'll go take a look."
With that, Duanmu Huai rose, bringing Guleya with him out of the tavern and toward the Jarl's longhouse.
After so long in Skyrim, he had a basic grasp of this land. Simply put, in a phrase—it was vast and sparsely populated.
Skyrim was divided into nine holds, each ruled by a Jarl, all of whom answered to the High King. The title sounded grand, but really, it was just a senior official. Each Jarl was essentially the mayor of one city.
Typically, each Jarl's territory contained one central city and maybe two or three villages. Each village had perhaps a hundred people at most. A city's population might reach a thousand.
One could imagine, with such numbers, there were very few soldiers. A Jarl might have a few hundred men. A village guard, at most a few dozen.
By contrast, in Lorena's Holy City region, the central city alone had fifty thousand people, and the surrounding villages held several thousand each.
And in Manaria, the two central cities combined had at least a hundred thousand residents, while even the smallest nearby towns had populations of one or two thousand.
Compared to modern metropolises of millions, it was nothing. But for the current level of civilization, both Manaria and the Holy City utterly dwarfed Skyrim—even the Empire itself—in numbers and quality.
In short, the Empire only had land. Constant wars had bled its manpower dry.
Falkreath was the same. The entire city's population was under three thousand—less than a single school in Duanmu Huai's era.
Soon, the two arrived at the Jarl's hall and met Falkreath's Jarl, Siddgeir.
Compared to other Jarls, Siddgeir was quite young, perhaps only in his twenties or thirties. Originally, his uncle had managed Falkreath, but age forced him to step aside, and Siddgeir took his place.
Well, that didn't matter.
"So, you're the steel warrior of rumor?"
Seeing Duanmu Huai, the young Jarl's eyes widened. He looked him up and down, then nodded again.
"I've heard many tales of you. I thought they might be exaggerated, but it seems not."
Duanmu Huai said nothing—that was the benefit of looking fierce. Tell people you'd slain a dragon and they'd believe it.
And he had, in fact, slain one.
"Let's get to business."
Siddgeir's face hardened. He explained his request.
It was about one of the towns under his rule—Lokis.
According to Siddgeir, strange things had been happening there for months. First, corpses vanished from the graveyard, their graves dug up, bodies missing. When angry townsfolk sought answers from the priest who tended the graveyard, they discovered the priest himself had disappeared.
Afterward, townsfolk formed patrols to investigate at night. But… more people went missing.
Now the whole town lived in fear. Each night, they barred their doors, too terrified to step outside. They had sent repeated pleas for aid.
"Though I dispatched soldiers several times, suspecting necromancers at work, they found nothing. Worse… my uncle was slain!"
Siddgeir slammed his fist on his chair. On the last investigation, his uncle had led the patrol personally. But the very next day, he was found dead in his bed, without a sound.
"This is an insult to the Jarls of Falkreath! Such an affront cannot be tolerated!"
Naturally, Siddgeir would not back down. Hearing of the "steel warrior," he summoned Duanmu Huai.
"My request is simple. Uncover the truth behind these events. Find out who is behind it all. Bring to justice the one who killed my uncle. If you succeed, I will grant you land within Falkreath and ennoble you as a baron!"
See? In a land so vast and empty, land was given away like nothing.
Worthless anyway, right?
"I understand. I'll look into it."
Though Duanmu Huai wasn't interested in the reward, he was intrigued. Compared to hunting bandits or beasts, this sounded like a much more interesting story.
"Sir Knight… do we really have to go?"
Outside the hall, Guleya's face was pale. She had been frightened by Siddgeir's tale.
"Of course. Isn't it interesting? And better than being idle. A quest like this is perfect to pass the time. Certainly better than bandit-hunting."
"…That's true."
What he didn't tell her was that he had also received a system prompt.
[Hidden Quest Activated: 'The Darkness Descends']
[Quest Objective: Investigate the secrets lurking in Lokis Town]
[As you embark on this journey, you will not imagine—what awaits you is no ordinary adventure.]
Didn't you just spell it out yourself?
Staring at the system prompt, Duanmu Huai muttered in his heart.
Either way, one thing was clear: whatever was happening in Lokis Town was far from simple.
(End of Chapter)