Azure Scepter

Page 20

"Therefore, the other party must be hiding a secret that they do not want others to know."

At this thought, Trier couldn't help but glance at the nun. At this moment, due to the residual effect of detecting good and evil, Noe still radiated a holy and dazzling light in his vision, the pure white halo almost dispelling the fine black rain.

The nun was tilting her head and staring at her. Her fair and soft hand gently supported her chin, while her long, slender index finger lightly touched her tender cherry lips, and raindrops slid slowly down her index finger.

“Were you truly inspired by the radiance? Or are you still troubled by my actions yesterday?” the nun asked softly, her voice now gentle as before, as if her earlier icy questioning had been a mere illusion. “I don’t want to blame you; I just want to know the truth…”

Although her voice was as soft as a silken veil on a young girl's face, the underlying pressure in her words reminded Trier of a master swordsman walking on the edge of a knife.

The next moment, the nun moved closer, her eyes unfathomable, as if veiled in gray, yet seemingly capable of piercing through the heart.

"Why are you silent?" Noy's lips curled into a smile, like a chess player who had the game in the bag. "Are you also feeling guilty about your actions?"

The effect of "Domain of Honesty" was exceptionally powerful, and Noy pressed closer, but Trier remained calm.

While the effects of the Realm of Honesty were powerful, Trier, as a spellcasting expert, knew exactly how to deal with this divine spell.

In fact, the way to deal with this magic is very simple—just remain silent or speak evasively. However, this simple and crude approach itself implies one's attitude and reveals a lot of information. A more sophisticated approach is to use the method of cutting out isolated facts and piecing together a montage-like lie. Using this method, which is similar to suggestion, can also avoid the influence of the Realm of Honesty.

Trier conducted numerous experiments to study the boundary problem of the honesty domain's response to contradictory, piecemeal facts. He concluded that a perfect loophole could be bypassed by simply arranging different isolated facts with an interval of about 2.3 seconds.

In this way, he could even claim that snow is black in the realm of honesty.

In short, although this divine spell is powerful, its power is practically useless in the face of true experts. The difficulty in dealing with it lies mainly in realizing that one has entered the "realm of honesty".

Now, Trier is fully aware of this.

“I am in the Realm of Honesty, which means Noy is also in the Realm of Honesty. This divine spell is enforced on the caster, so she is also bound by the spell—I can take advantage of this,” the paladin thought.

He then calmly looked into the nun's eyes and slowly said, "I am a paladin who believes in radiance; I have been inspired; radiant."

As he spoke in a low, slow voice, he noticed the nun's pupils contract almost imperceptibly, and her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something.

“She’s a little surprised. Good opportunity,” Trier thought.

Before the other person could speak, the paladin immediately asked, "Are you a cultist of the Silent Whispering Society?"

Noi stopped in her tracks, paused for a moment, and then her scarlet eyes seemed to brighten slightly.

“Of course I’m not a cult member! So that’s what you were worried about!” she laughed. “You were unwilling to accept my treatment last night for the same reason, weren’t you?”

“Actually, I also suspect there are other members of the Silent Whisper Society in the hotel. I’ve found three so far, and I’ve already checked them with divine magic.” Noi secretly pointed a finger at the crowd not far away.

Following Noe's finger, Trier realized she was pointing to a suspicious person she had just noticed. It was a woman with freckles, who was slowly moving backwards under the cover of the crowd.

“This is the first one,” the nun said softly, then her finger twitched slightly, pointing to another young man dressed as a farmer who was arguing with someone. “The second one.”

“I noticed you were observing them,” Neu said in a low voice. “Trier, your observation skills are as sharp as ever—but you should also consider the possibility that they were deliberately thrown out as a smokescreen.”

She gently pointed to the third person, a long-bearded soldier standing next to the garrison captain.

“Well disguised, isn’t it?” Noy blinked. “Until just now I was wondering about this: the Silent Whisperers are so powerful in Beaver Town, enough to crush any resistance, so what’s their purpose in leaving the survivors in the inn unattended?”

The nun's voice was soft and slow, and very soft, almost like a gentle breeze brushing past one's ear.

"If the members of the Silent Whisper Society think the survivors in the hotel are insignificant, then why would they have planted so many spies?"

"It wasn't until I saw the dragon that I understood their plan."

"Assuming their goal from the beginning wasn't to destroy the town, but to eliminate the dragon, then as long as we keep squeezing the dragon's range, it will eventually come to the hotel. At that time, we can use the people we've already deployed to lock onto the dragon directly."

"Is my analysis reasonable?" Noy asked with a smile.

At this moment, the dragon had reverted to its tailor form, and it said in an extremely hoarse voice, "The analysis is very reasonable, but why do you and Trier always speak in a halting manner? Uh, in fact, the intervals between your conversations are about two seconds. Is this a unique way of communication on your side?"

“That’s not the key point. The key point is that we need to capture those members of the Silent Whisperers as soon as possible,” Noy interrupted. “If they pass on the information, the undead will swarm in very soon. We’re not prepared yet, and we won’t be able to resist.”

P.S.: QWQ I'm really sorry for the slow updates.

Chapter 35 Action

Although the dragon has withdrawn its dragon might, the chaos it caused is extremely serious.

At this moment, through the cracks in the courtyard wall, one could see that the crowd behind the wall was growing larger and larger. The huge crowd looked like a gray oil painting in the rising rain and mist. Although the surviving town guards were trying their best to maintain order, the chaos was spreading uncontrollably.

Trier quietly observed the crowd.

A young woman held her man's hand tightly, her pale face etched with anxiety and unease. Her man coughed, his left hand clutching his own neck, even as purple bruises appeared on his skin, a suffocating look on his face. Beside them stood a similarly pale child, who tried to reach for his mother's hand, but the crowd quickly pushed him aside.

The black, cold rain mingled with shouts, coughs, and cries, separating the chaotic crowd from the paladin like a glass frame in an oil painting. He had a subtle illusion that the chaos before him was merely chaos within a painting, unrelated to himself as an outsider.

The spreading chaos greatly obscured his conversation with the nun. Meanwhile, the cultists in the crowd were unaware that they were being watched, and they continued to play their roles methodically.

The paladin knew very well that Noy was not telling the truth, and he believed that the nun knew very well that she was not telling the truth either, but as Noy said, the most urgent task now was indeed to arrest the three known cultists as soon as possible.

“The young man dressed as a farmer is stirring up trouble. He wants to provide the freckled woman with the chaotic environment she needs to escape,” Trier thought. “If Noy isn’t lying and the bearded soldier is also a cultist, then his duty should be to do his best to buy time for the young man dressed as a farmer and prevent him from being captured by the garrison immediately.”

With this thought in mind, he couldn't help but glance at the nun.

Noy appeared to be talking to the dragon, but at that moment she also turned her head slightly, and her peripheral vision met Trier's gaze.

As a high-ranking priest, Noy should have maintained a dignified demeanor at all times, but at this moment she playfully stuck out her tongue and then immediately turned her head away, pretending nothing had happened.

She continued, "In short, we should act immediately and arrest those members of the Silent Whisper Society who have already been exposed. We'd better divide the tasks among ourselves."

“Division of labor? Absolutely unnecessary.” The dragon, now transformed back into a tailor, snapped his fingers with a laugh. “Discussion is a waste of time. I just need to use magic to tell them a joke, and they’ll all be lying on the ground.”

At this point, the talkative Olius suddenly fell silent, as if it had thought of something. It then glanced cautiously at the paladin: "Uh, but this might cause everyone in the inn to start laughing..."

“I suggest we listen to Trier’s opinion,” the elf, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly said. She paused, “From yesterday until now, all his views and opinions have been correct.”

“Fodia is right. We should trust the opinions of those who have received the revelation of the Radiant Light.” The knight’s voice came from not far away. Harlan’s last remaining eyeball moved slightly as he looked at the silent paladin.

At this moment, everyone outside the walls was watching the paladin, their gazes fixed intently on Trier. The walls acted as a barrier, dividing the scene inside and outside into two starkly contrasting aspects: inside, panic was rampant and chaos reigned; while outside, the atmosphere was as calm as the eye of a hurricane, so quiet that even the patter of raindrops could be heard—everyone was waiting for the paladin to make his decision.

"It feels good to be trusted," Trier thought to himself.

He took a deep breath, his gaze quickly sweeping across the crowd, and then slowly said, "We arrested the cult members to buy more time for preparation, and it will also take a lot of time to quell the current unrest."

"Therefore, during the operation, we should prevent the riots from spreading further, so it would be best to take down the cultists quietly and secretly."

"In this situation, it's best for us to act simultaneously, so we will inevitably have to divide the work."

“I suggest we divide it into three parts: First, someone to attract attention—I’ll use divine magic to calm the crowd, which will reduce the chaos and draw the cultists’ attention; second, someone to carry out the plan—Harlan will deal with the bearded soldier, Noy will find the freckled man, and I’ll handle the cultist dressed as a farmer; and finally, someone to handle the insurance—if things go wrong, then Faldia and Olius will need to improvise.”

"In any case, time waits for no one, so let's get started now."

Chaos, indescribable chaos!

The hysterical roars of the adults echoed in his ears, and the surging, wave-like buzzing in the air made Soms' head spin. The adults' thighs were like solid granite pillars, and the dense crowd was like the most complex maze, making his mother's figure grow ever more distant in the throng.

Soms stumbled through the maze of thighs, trying to catch up with his mother, but she had been swallowed up by the crowd and was nowhere to be seen.

"Little Soms! Little Soms!" He vaguely heard his mother calling from the noisy crowd, but he couldn't hear it clearly.

Soms hurriedly followed the sound, but he accidentally bumped into a soldier with a long beard. He thought he was in for a good scolding, but the soldier didn't react at all, because the bearded soldier was vigorously beating a townsman who was taking advantage of the chaos to rob a villager with a wooden stick.

"Stop, stop hitting him!" the townsman stammered, "I..."

His pleas for mercy were shattered by a crisp cracking sound. The soldier said slowly, "Making a mistake and accepting punishment is only right—you shouldn't have yelled so loudly; it's really lacking in spirit."

Desperate screams mingled with the pungent smell of blood, and Soms hurriedly fled from the soldiers.

"Ugh!" A portly adult suddenly vomited, spraying crimson blood mixed with wriggling, transparent maggots all over the ground. Soms suppressed his nausea and stepped aside, only to bump right into another person.

"Watch where you're going, kid!" the man cursed as he slapped Soms across the face. He seemed to be arguing with someone, and the men around him were clearly quite angry.

"Radiance, please save me!" Soms heard the woman's plea. "We're all doomed."

PS: This is to make up for yesterday's post. I still owe 3 more chapters, but I have more time today, so I should be able to finish them all.

Chapter 36 Propaganda

"No one can save you, we're all going to die sooner or later." The farmer, who was arguing with someone, sneered. "Imagine—a dead man with no eyeballs slowly placing his rotten, blunt teeth on your neck, and then biting down hard! Ah, the pain of those rotten teeth scraping and chewing through the flesh... If you ask me, you might as well give yourself a quick death now!"

"Ah!" The wailing woman covered her mouth in terror.

Little Soms felt a dull ache in his neck, and the farmer's narration made him feel nauseous, so he quickly fled from the farmer who seemed to be telling ghost stories.

But wherever he ran, he found only chaotic crowds, terrified townspeople, and patients coughing and vomiting. A heavy sense of despair gradually welled up inside him, and Soms began to tremble. He vaguely realized that he might never find his mother again. He wanted to cry, to scream, to beat everything around him!

Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound. He paused for a moment before realizing it was the sound of raindrops crawling and cracking on the ground. He looked around and was astonished to find that the chaotic crowd had suddenly fallen silent.

In front of him was a loan shark who had broken down and was squatting on the ground crying. But at this moment, the greedy and cunning loan shark stopped crying. The tall and thin loan shark stood up for no reason, and then stood on tiptoe to look at the courtyard wall not far away.

The next moment, Soms suddenly felt a strange sense of comfort.

His internal organs, contorted and convulsing with fear and unease, felt as if suddenly bathed in a warm, gentle ray of sunshine; the comforting sensation dispelled the unease that lingered in his heart. He couldn't help but follow the lender's gaze, only to see a wall of human legs.

"Don't panic, everyone. Please listen to me."

A gentle, deep male voice came from behind the wall of people. The voice wasn't loud, but it was very powerful and clear. As the voice entered the ears, the warmth, like the peaceful afternoon sunlight, became even more intense.

Soms grabbed the lender's shoulders and pulled himself up, then sat on the lender's shoulders.

He wanted to see who was speaking.

"Hey, watch out! Don't fall!" Soms thought the extremely selfish and unwilling-to-lose-luck lender would throw him off, but the man just muttered something and then let him sit steadily on his shoulder.

He quickly looked at the person who had spoken.

It was a man wearing chainmail. His chainmail didn't gleam; instead, it was covered in dirt and bloodstains. Large raindrops kept washing over his chainmail, but to no avail.

The speaker was holding up a metal badge. Soms knew it was the emblem of the Church of Radiant Light, which he used to see often in the shrine to the north. Every time he examined the emblem, the portly Pastor Byron would kindly explain a whole host of complex doctrines to him.

At that moment, countless milky-white specks of light danced around the holy emblem. Although the man speaking wore very worn chainmail, he radiated a holy aura, and with his deep, powerful words, Soms felt as if he were looking at a solemn and sublime statue of a saint.

"Townspeople!" The man's voice suddenly rose, and he gripped his iron glove tightly as if to crush something. "Who has caused your suffering? Who has caused this tragedy before your eyes? Who has caused the deaths of your family members? Who has made you suffer from illness?"

“I remember now, his name is Trier—a stranger!” the moneylender suddenly whispered. “He seems to be a follower of Sister Neu.”

Soms looked around, hoping to find his mother, but he found that more and more people were gathering around him. Gradually, the noise and chaos disappeared, as if the fire had encountered cold water.

“The Silent Council caused all of this!” Trier said, walking toward the crowd, which slowly dispersed like waves crashing against rocks. “All the suffering, all the pain, all the death, it’s all their fault!”

The crowd, which had calmed down, was thrown into turmoil again. Their pent-up fear and anger seemed to have a specific target. Soms keenly sensed that the paladin named Trill was deliberately inciting the people's discontent.

Suddenly, Soms's gaze sharpened—he saw his mother! His mother was pale and looking around, searching for something.

He quickly jumped off the lender's shoulders.

Hey, where are you going?

Ignoring the lender's shouts, Soms ran straight through the crowd toward his mother.

“These undead are nothing to be afraid of, everyone look—this is the head of a walker!” Trier’s voice kept ringing in their ears, and the crowd behind them gasped in surprise.

“Those dead people who crawl out of their graves are weak and unstable. In just one moment, look, they will crumble into dust.”

"Everyone saw that dragon just now. The dragon is our ally. Please think about it. If even you are intimidated by the dragon's might, how could those despicable cultists who only dare to hide in the shadows possibly be safe?"

"Is it better to wait futilely for death, or to take a desperate gamble?"

The paladin kept repeating similar words. Soms had received a systematic education and knew very well that there was no logical connection between these words. However, with the tireless repetition, the people around him seemed to develop a kind of self-evident belief.

Suddenly, just as Soms was hurrying along, he bumped into a hard metal object.

He cried out in pain, and then looked up—he was terrified!

He bumped into the brutal soldier's plate armor boots!

The bearded soldier sneered, seemingly mocking the paladin's propaganda, or perhaps mocking himself for accidentally bumping into him.

The robber lay motionless on the ground, his head almost smashed to pieces, white and red stains flowing into the black pool like paint from an oil painting.

The bearded soldier indifferently wiped the blood-stained wooden stick in his hand with a handkerchief, as if the mangled corpses at his feet were merely stones lying around everywhere.

"This is nothing but a deception. The courage incited is just foam in beer. Once it encounters a real ghost, it will burst with a pop and immediately turn into nothingness."

Beside the bearded soldier was a red-haired woman with freckles. The woman, who had been walking briskly, stopped after hearing this: "I don't think so."

"Think what you want." The soldier shrugged, not angrily attacking the red-haired woman. "Wait—shut up!"

“You may think that even if you win, it will be meaningless because you will eventually die from the Blood Plague—but that’s not the case! The Radiance has revealed that the Blood Plague can be completely cured.” Trier’s voice grew closer. “All those who fight against the Silent Whisperers can be healed.”

The crowd suddenly fell into dead silence.

Suddenly, Soms smelled a very pleasant scent. He turned around and saw Sister Neuer with white hair—she had somehow appeared behind him.

Noy smiled, but in his right hand he held a three-headed flail with a metal ball covered in menacing spikes hanging on the ground, clanging as they collided.

"Madam?" The red-haired woman looked up in confusion. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

“Death,” Noy said softly.

P.S.: I'm catching up on what I missed last week. I still owe two chapters, which I'll write when I get back tonight.

Chapter 37 Escape