Azure Scepter

Page 21

five minutes ago.

Whether before or after his transmigration, Trier was well aware that he didn't possess any extraordinary personal charisma. On the contrary, because he was often nitpicky about efficiency, many of his guildmates would occasionally complain about him.

Therefore, when Trier persuades others, he rarely tries to move them with sincerity. On the contrary, he prefers to use "rational" methods such as threats, inducements, and selectively explaining the pros and cons to others to complete the persuasion.

At this moment, Trier's strategy with the townspeople was to incite hatred.

It is well known that the fastest way to unite a group of people is to create a common enemy, and the way to make that unity even stronger is to escalate hostility into hatred. If this kind of ideological hatred can also bring material benefits, then this artificially created unity will be extremely solid.

He held up the holy emblem, repeating over and over the sins of the Silent Society, over and over the weakness of the Silent Society, and over and over the irreconcilable enmity between the Silent Society and people.

Although the Silent Whisper of Beaver Town is hardly associated with the word "weak," through massive repetition, the false impression will eventually take effect. The paladin knows that Dragon's Might is merely the trigger for the unrest; the deeper reason for the unrest is the deep-seated fear that the Silent Whisper will become too powerful, leaving them defenseless to be slaughtered.

At this moment, the paladins offer people a false hope, which aligns with their deepest expectations that the Silent Council is actually weak and vulnerable, thus ensuring their own safety.

Under constant catalysis, his illogical and absurd arguments will take effect in people's minds—people will convince themselves.

“People get scammed simply because they want to be scammed,” Trier thought to himself.

At that moment, a flash of light suddenly appeared out of the corner of his eye. He looked in the direction of the light and saw that Futia, who was waiting on the roof, nodded to him. Harlan and Noy were already in place, and as soon as he announced that the blood plague was curable, they would take action immediately.

The paladin turned to look at the cultist dressed as a farmer, whom he was in charge of. The thin cultist was leaning casually against the wall, a withered stalk of grass dangling from his mouth.

"The distance is just right, I can make my move now," Trier thought to himself.

With this thought in mind, he exclaimed, “You may think that even if you win, it will be meaningless because you will die of the plague—but that is not the case!”

The cultist spat indifferently, and the deformed straw stalks were knocked to the ground by the rain.

Trier's right hand, fingers like hooks, secretly gripped the cold hilt of his sword.

"The blood plague can be completely cured."

The words, though not spoken, struck like thunder across the sky, instantly exploding in everyone's ears. At that moment, a deathly silence swept through the crowd like a scythe.

The cultist looked up in disbelief at the paladin who was speaking eloquently.

“Knock, knock… knock, knock…”

His heart was racing, and Trier took a deep breath, letting the abundant oxygen rush into his brain.

Time seemed to slow down under the influence of rapidly secreted adrenaline.

At this moment, he clearly felt that the cultists in his eyes seemed to be separated from the world. Everything around the cultists seemed to be covered by a layer of illusory transparent mist, and only the cultists appeared more and more real in this illusory world.

The cultist's constricted pupils, the contraction of every muscle in his rising and falling chest, and the white mist from his exhaled breath liquefied by the cold were all clearly visible to Trier. He could even see the subtle deformation of the skin on the cultist's index finger as he reached for the rope at his waist.

“All those who fight against the Silent Whisperers can receive treatment,” Trier said softly.

"Closer..." he thought.

A sudden change occurred!

Suddenly, a loud shout came from the right side—"Run! Don't move! I'll kill anyone who moves!"

The paladin instinctively turned his head to look and saw a woman holding a child in her hand. In a flash, the dagger in her right hand suddenly plunged into the child's neck, and blood spurted out, staining Noy's pure white robe standing opposite the woman.

The child was the same pale-faced boy he had seen not long ago.

"Don't move, he's dead if I draw my sword!" the freckled female cultist shrieked. But the next moment, the cultist's figure suddenly froze as a swift black shadow silently pierced through her neck—it was an arrow shot by Futia.

Trier quickly turned around and saw that the cultist dressed as a farmer had already begun to run away. He nimbly threw the rope to the roof of the hotel's annex and then, like an ape, quickly climbed up to the roof.

He climbed at an astonishing speed, almost as if he were running on the wall.

"Hehe... Hahahaha!" The crowd suddenly erupted in bursts of laughter, many laughing so hard they could hardly breathe, and they began rolling on the ground. The climbing cultist seemed to be affected as well, giggling along, but his pace was unaffected; on the contrary, it quickened.

Trier grabbed the end of the rope and pulled it down sharply, but it was too late. The cultist dressed as a farmer had already scrambled onto the roof, and the light rope fell into the paladin's hands.

Almost simultaneously, a sharp, piercing sonic boom exploded in their ears, and a roaring arrow slashed across the roof of the annex building, sending debris and wood chips flying. However, there was no blood among the rubble—Fodia had missed.

"Luckily, we were prepared," Trier thought to himself, "otherwise, there would have been problems."

Before the operation began, he arranged for Olius to guard the northwest side of the hotel. If the fleeing cultists continued to run in this direction, he would run right into the dragon.

If the cultist changes course midway, then he will only be able to hide in the existing buildings within the hotel.

In an instant, Trier finished his thought. He quickly walked around the annex building—the cultist dressed as a farmer had just jumped to the ground. The cultist groaned, and the crisp sound of bones cracking could be clearly heard.

Upon seeing Trier, he quickly limped towards the northernmost building of the hotel, which was not far away.

"Don't rush, it might be a trap," the paladin thought. "It's best to use ranged weapons."

He stopped, took out a military crossbow from his backpack, quickly cocked it, aimed, and then pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

The crossbow bolt struck the cultist squarely in the back of the chest. He cried out in pain, staggered, and collapsed to his knees, his crimson blood mingling with the rain. The cultist desperately stretched out his hand, his bony fingers gripping the threshold of the building, and then, with his last ounce of strength, dragged himself inside.

“He is currently experiencing severe bleeding, so we can simply follow the trail of blood. Therefore, there is absolutely no need to worry even if there are secret passages within the building.”

"At the same time, there's no need to worry about his ability to teleport, because the arrow I just shot into his lung lobe, and the pain from suffocation is enough to prevent him from concentrating on any spellcasting."

The paladin calmly put away his crossbow and walked slowly toward the building like the most experienced hunter.

Instead of rushing in, he chose to wait for his teammates to get into position. While waiting, Trier walked around the building – it was very strangely constructed, with no windows at all, meaning the cultists were completely cornered.

Trier returned to the building entrance and waited patiently.

A few seconds later, a golden light surged out from inside the building and merged into his body.

[XP+500]

"He's bleeding to death," the paladin thought, but at that moment, he was astonished to find that the holy emblem in his hand was still shining.

Is there still someone in the house?

P.S.: This is to make up for last week's chapter; I still owe one. I went out tonight and didn't finish writing it, I'll finish it tomorrow.

It might be a bit poorly written; we'll revise it together tomorrow.

Chapter 38 Iris

For a moment, Trier thought that the townspeople hiding inside the building had triggered the Holy Symbol, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

“That cultist’s behavior was very strange.” Trier looked up and carefully observed the building in front of him. “He was very agile, but at the last moment he was willing to break his bones to jump directly off the roof; and after being hit by the crossbow bolt, he also rushed into the building for his life—it was too strange.”

This strange behavior could certainly be a mistaken decision made out of panic, but Trier, always a cautious man, was more inclined to believe there was some kind of conspiracy involved.

He closed his eyes and carefully recalled his surroundings—the stone building, only two stories high, was located at the northernmost part of the hotel complex and had no windows. In front of the building was a small flowerbed planted with many golden irises.

Suddenly, Trier understood the crux of the problem. He bent down and picked up an iris that had fallen to the ground after being knocked down by the rain. The flower was somewhat withered. He gently wiped away the mud from the edges of the flower with his fingers, and then saw clearly the black edges of the flower, as if it had been scorched.

He brought the iris flower to his nose; the earthy smell was mixed with a familiar, negative, putrid odor.

“There must be a spirit bound inside the building,” the paladin thought. “Only this kind of undead can directly cause plants to wither in this way—thankfully I didn’t go in directly. Its attack would directly cause a loss of physical strength. If I had been hit, I would have needed a minor restoration spell to recover.”

“I passed by this place yesterday when I first left the hotel. At that time, the decay of the plants had not yet begun, which means that the spirit binding occurred between noon yesterday and noon today.”

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew by, and the withered flower in her hand instantly turned into fragments. Trier let go of her hand, and the fragments of the flower scattered in all directions.

He turned around and saw that Noe had caught up. The nun was covered in blood, and she was carrying a heavy flail, the spikes of which were still covered with a clump of bloody flesh.

Before Trier could speak, the nun suddenly coughed.

"cough cough..."

Her cough was quite severe, seemingly due to choking, and an unnatural flush appeared on her fair cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t react in time and the Silent Whisperers captured the hostage—thankfully you had arranged for Futia to be on standby, otherwise that little boy named Soms would be dead.” The nun reached out and gently wiped the glistening raindrops from the corner of her mouth. “Are you admiring the irises? Do you remember when we were little? Back then, we always went to the Earl’s garden to pick irises together.”

Trier recalled for a moment, and in the fragmented memories of the original owner, it seemed that such a thing had indeed happened.

"Why was the original owner allowed to enter and leave the Earl's garden when he was a child?" Trier couldn't help but ponder.

Noe's ruby-like eyes seemed to sparkle with expectation, but after a moment, she sighed with a hint of disappointment: "It seems you don't remember at all."

"The garden manager is always angry?" Trier asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Yes! That bald guy who likes to spray himself with perfume always gets angry—could you pin an iris on my hair like you used to? I want the prettiest one!"

Noi gently removed her hood and lightly brushed aside the silver strands of hair at her temples.

"Her untimely demands and actions suggest she's trying to appeal to emotions," the time traveler thought coldly. "I must remain vigilant."

Trier then flatly refused: "No."

The nun was stunned.

“Please take a close look at the edges of the flower. Those charred black edges mean that there is a spirit here—based on the habits of spirits, it is most likely in that building.”

Neu suddenly laughed: "Trier, you really are Trier! Only you could come up with this kind of answer."

“Actually, I’ve always been very afraid,” she continued. “I’m afraid you’ve been replaced by some inexplicable monster! Your sudden increase in knowledge, your sudden increase in martial arts skills, your change in attitude towards combat—all of these feel unfamiliar and frightening to me…”

"That's a pretty accurate guess," Trier thought to himself. "But fear wouldn't be her reaction."

“You used to be terrified of fighting, and even refused to be trained as a squire because you couldn’t bear to see others bleed. But now you kill people like... the most skilled executioner.”

“I want to apologize to you again, or rather, I want to confess something to you—just now, when facing the dragon, I used the Domain of Honesty on you.” Noy suddenly hugged Trier. “Thank you for not lying to me. You really were just inspired by the radiance. I don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

“Let’s stop suspecting each other, okay? It’s exhausting.” Noe’s voice was sincere, her brows furrowed, and a few tears glistening on her long eyelashes.

Trier nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you."

Noy, a high-ranking priest, couldn't persuade anyone to kill the nun without conclusive evidence, and acting alone would come at a great cost. Therefore, although he knew his childhood friend was highly suspicious, maintaining unity was his priority at this time.

Although Noi said a lot, most of it was just emotional rhetoric; she didn't offer any decent explanation for her irrational behavior.

“This building is used as a morgue.” The nun smiled and took a step back, pointing to the building. “If there are spirits inside, at least we don’t have to worry about many spirit-created entities appearing, because there are no living people guarding the corpses.”

Time passed by second by second, and soon Futia caught up with them.

She jumped directly from the spot where the cultist had fallen, but she was unharmed. The elf landed silently on the ground like a falling feather.

“Trier, I didn’t expect you to be so eloquent,” Futia said. “Um, why are you all standing in front of the morgue? Did that cultist hide inside?”

The paladin briefly explained the situation to Futia, emphasizing the special attributes of the spirit binder.

“I see—I understand completely.” The elf drew his weapon. “None of you have darksight, right? Let me go first.”

P.S.: Something came up today, so I can't make up for the missed chapters. I currently owe one chapter.

Well, the plot has been a bit slow lately, but the first story will end soon, and there are expected to be ten more chapters.

I should have plenty of time on Thursday, and I can finish writing then.

Chapter 39 Memory

Without a doubt, the Bound Spirit is an extremely dangerous undead. As a phantom creature born of darkness and evil, it is difficult to be hit by physical attacks. At the same time, because its attacks directly cause physical damage, novice adventurers who lack knowledge and preparation will find it difficult to deal with this monster.

They often become withered and sluggish under repeated attacks from the bound spirits, and finally die a violent death in an unexpected attack. The fragments of their souls are then enslaved by the bound spirits and become new derivatives of the bound spirits.

Most people feel depressed and nervous when faced with a possessed spirit.

But at this moment, Trier felt quite relaxed because both of his teammates had very high professional levels. For them, the difficulty in dealing with the spirit bound was simply finding the spirit and not getting hurt.

After crossing the threshold, which was about knee-high, you enter the building.

The interior of the building was extremely narrow, and an evil aura seemed to linger at the cramped entrance. As soon as Futia, who was at the front, lit the resin torch, the flame was suddenly extinguished, as if it had been captured by the chill that had condensed in the air.

The flickering firelight illuminated the scene at the entrance.

A shocking crimson trail of blood snaked across the gray stone floor. Following the trail, a male corpse leaned against the wall, its stiff fingers gripping the crossbow bolt protruding from its chest, as if trying to pull it out. But the sharp metal arrow had slashed its hand to pieces.

"Drip." Blood mixed with ice crystals dripped from the corpse's palm.

The corpse stared wide-eyed at the entrance, its lifeless eyes fixed on the murky space.

"This is just deliberately trying to scare people." Fythia, holding a torch, walked up to the corpse without hesitation, the firelight casting a long shadow. "Is the bound spirit nearby?"

“No, judging from the habits of spirit binders, it should be in the place where the corpses are kept—the first room after the corner of the corridor,” Noi said, hanging the holy symbol that was emitting a faint glow on the shield in her left hand.

The elf suddenly stopped, gently raised the heavy scimitar in her hand, and then swiftly cleaved off the corpse's head.

"Pfft." The headless corpse instantly fell into a pool of blood.

"Now I don't have to worry about it being scary." Futia put away her weapon with satisfaction.

As Trier looked at the rolling human head on the ground, he couldn't help but think to himself, "This is clearly even more terrifying."

Suddenly, he felt a strange sense of incongruity. After observing carefully for a moment, he discovered the root of the problem—in the light, whether bright or dim, the headless corpse cast no shadow.

“Watch out, there’s a second undead here—the shadow of the corpse is gone.” Trier pointed to the corpse on the ground. “Its shadow should have turned into a phantom.”

"Turns into an undead? So quickly?" Futia frowned slightly. "Negative energy couldn't have such a rapid effect on a corpse, and spirit binding couldn't create a ghost."