Azure Scepter

Page 82

"The second question is: which god in the Radiant Pantheon would suffer the greatest loss due to the complete annihilation of the Kingdom of Orko?"

The time traveler gently tapped the hilt of his sword with the knuckle of his index finger. The monotonous tapping sound echoed in the tomb, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"The answer to the second question is obvious—Saint Seir, whose main area of ​​worship is the Kingdom of Orco. Therefore, Oris's mystical revelations must be Saint Seir's whispers in his heart."

"I don't have enough information to answer the first question yet, but an easy line of thought is that there must be some unfair event behind Lorsevie's transformation into a lich, and the Radiant pantheon must be divided on this issue... Since I don't have enough information, it's not very meaningful for me to guess what the specific event is, but since Saint Seir is targeting Lorsevie so much, a reasonable guess is that this matter is related to Saint Seir, perhaps related to his ascension to godhood."

"However, although I don't know, the person involved must know."

Trier exhaled softly, then placed his backpack on the ground. Next, he took out the nearly broken faceless statue from the bottom of the backpack.

Theoretically, he could still communicate with the sealed dream realm demigods one last time through this statue, but after successfully countering the succubus spellcaster, Trier had already sensed that the faceless statue had undergone some kind of change.

In the wondrous vision created by the spell, he saw that the magical winds restrained by the succubus were mixed with a viscous, purplish-red fluid, similar to jelly, and that the dead balora also possessed this purplish-red fluid.

If we compare the spellcaster's vision to a blank canvas, the spell's form to a dotted outline composed of spell constraint lines and points, and the magical wind to colorful paints, then the crimson fluid that Trill saw was a three-dimensional apple that transcended the canvas.

As a former demigod lich, Trier knew very well that this strange substance, which looked like a purplish-red fluid, was a projection of the power bestowed upon her subordinates by the Bloodthorn Lady, who was also a demigod, in the caster's vision.

In game terms, Lady Bloodthorn granted them a certain Mythic rank, which gave Balrog and Succubus spellcasters some ridiculously powerful feats, such as "Unyielding" which allows them to continue fighting for at least half a minute while near death, "Swift Casting" which allows them to cast spells quickly with a single gesture, or "Spell Penetration (Mythic)" which directly increases the effect of spells.

But at this moment, in Trier's vision, these purplish-red fluids were being slowly absorbed by the faceless statue in his hand. At the same time, the stone statue was slowly writhing like a living thing, and the cracks were slowly healing themselves as it writhed.

The time traveler silently gazed at the statue in his hand, choosing not to interfere with or prevent this strange change.

He knew very well that the remaining power of Lady Bloodthorn was far from enough to support the sealed Dream Realm demigod in taking any further action beyond communication. The effect of absorbing this remaining power was at most that it would allow Him to communicate with him a few more times.

Trier silently counted to ten in his mind, and the next moment, he whispered to himself, "Your chance to gain your freedom is right in front of you."

Chapter 164 The People

Before Trier could continue speaking, a deep, cold voice suddenly rang in his mind.

The sound was full of echoes, like the hum of a decaying bell that had been submerged in the deep sea for a long time, or like the echo of hundreds of old men speaking at the same time.

—The demigods of the Dream Realm spoke again.

"You can see the remaining power of Lady Bloodthorn? Ha, then you must also know I'm recovering my power. You're no ordinary mortal." The crowd's deep, chilling voice carried a hint of surprise. "Who exactly are you—no, that's not quite right, what exactly are you?"

Trier did not answer the crowd's questions. He knew very well that the dream realm demigod possessed the special ability to twist unintentional words into cruel reality. Although He was in a sealed state and therefore most likely unable to use this ability, based on basic risk management principles, there was no need to create unnecessary complications.

So the time traveler continued to whisper in his heart: "You know very well that if you want to regain your freedom, you must defeat Losevie, who sealed you—I want to know, what sordid things happened between Losevie and Saint Seir?"

The crowd let out low, amused laughter. As the laughter, which existed only in Trier's mind, reverberated, the bright moon was once again shrouded in dark clouds. A sense of impending storm returned along with the shadows rising like a tide.

The soldiers cleaning up the battlefield above seemed to have fallen into chaos again, with panicked shouts and screams rising and falling. In the chaos, half of a chainmail was even thrown into the hole above the tomb by fleeing soldiers.

"Clang—" The crisp sound of iron rings colliding echoed in the tomb.

"Ha, I thought you knew everything?" After a long while, the crowd sneered and said in a rather mocking tone, "I didn't expect you to not even know such a simple thing."

Trill remained silent. Whether before or after his time travel, he was indifferent to being ridiculed, misunderstood, or praised. These false things, which depended entirely on others' subjective opinions, were no different from a gentle breeze to him.

Therefore, the mockery from the crowd was like a heavy punch landing on cotton, failing to stir even the slightest ripple in the transmigrator's heart.

The crowd was somewhat confused.

—As a true native of the Dream Realm, the One is not a demigod who rose from mortals. He was born a powerful demigod, and therefore his perspective on the world is completely different from that of ordinary mortals—He possesses a certain ability known as "emotional intuition".

"Emotional intuition," as the name suggests, refers to the ability of an observer to intuitively perceive any emotional psychological activity or subtle changes in the emotions of those around them. They can directly sense others' fear, joy, despondency, resentment, and other such thoughts.

Those thoughts that are more obscure and subtle to ordinary people and difficult for them to perceive themselves are as clearly visible to the public as metal inscriptions burning in a fire.

For example, at this moment, He could clearly sense the shy, slightly bittersweet feeling in the heart of the elf named Futia, like the tartness of early summer wine, and the soft, bewilderment like cotton candy; He could also sense the faint sorrow in the heart of another paladin named Edith, like the cold mist under the silver moon, the rampant doubts like damp, decaying fungi, and the fiery self-reproach like biting into the white seeds of a red chili pepper...

He could even sense the slightest thought flowing through the hearts of every living being in the entire Upper City. All things opened their hearts to Him. He could see the slow but real thoughts of the ancient tree, hear the fleeting sparks of thought in the maggots after being stimulated, and smell the lingering resentment and rage of the fallen...

However, no one could understand Trier's emotions at all. This strange paladin's mind was as calm as an abyss at the bottom of the sea, without the slightest emotional fluctuation. They could only vaguely see that he was thinking at a rapid pace, but they could not find out what he was thinking about.

Even the Mind Flayer, who is said to be absolutely rational, or the Iron Golem with a task processing core, or even the undead with only a rudimentary intelligence, would have subtle emotional fluctuations. However, in the eyes of others, Trier's emotions were unchangingly calm, or more accurately, deathly still.

As a long-lived demigod, He had witnessed countless ancient evils, divine abominations, and powerful beings of all kinds of divine power. He had even conversed with the great gods more than once. Yet, in His long life, He had never seen anyone as emotionless as Trir...

What is this thing?

Those who were sealed away felt a sense of defeat, and beneath that defeat lurked a hidden unease about the unknown.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re even human.” The others swallowed the cold unease in their hearts and continued to probe, “You don’t show any emotional fluctuations at all.”

Trier remained silent, gazing at himself silently through the statue.

The group understood perfectly what the other party meant—that if they didn't recount the sordid affair between Lorraine and Saint-Sel, nothing would ever get any progress.

After a standoff of about ten seconds, the group couldn't help but speak first.

"Heh, of course something sordid happened between Losevie and Saint Seil, and you got lucky; the tomb you're in holds clues." The Dream Realm beings sneered, continuing to try to stir up the other's emotions. "As for what exactly happened, you can go deep into the tomb and see for yourself, heh, provided you can read."

To His disappointment, Trier simply replied in a very flat tone, "Okay, thank you."

The crowd felt even more uncomfortable. They couldn't tell whether the other party didn't understand the sarcasm, didn't care at all, or simply didn't have the basic mental capacity for emotional fluctuation.

At this moment, in everyone's perception, Trier was a bottomless abyss, and all His trials were like stones thrown into it; He couldn't hear the sound of the stones hitting the ground, and had no idea where the bottom of this deep chasm lay...

He fell silent.

However, the next moment, everyone sensed Trier's emotional fluctuations!

He was immediately overjoyed and excitedly wanted to extend his mental tendrils to find out what was going on. Then, he was met with an overwhelming barrage of ridicule and threats.

“I know you can read emotions, my lord.” Trier’s cold voice echoed in His heart. “There’s no point in testing me. You should conserve your energy. Would you rather expend it for the pleasure of words now, or be free to mock others once you’re free? You should think it through and not be foolish.”

Everyone was completely speechless. It turned out that the other party had been toying with them from the very beginning...

Trier was naturally emotional, but as a transmigrator, he also knew that dream realm natives like the others could directly read the emotional fluctuations of the creatures around them. Therefore, he had just used meditation to directly restrain his will.

He wasn't sure if this would work, but judging from the performance of the sealed beings, this idea that came up on a whim was quite effective. To be fair, this demigod of the dream world seemed to have suffered serious mental damage during the long period of sealing. He seemed to have become stupid. He didn't hide the purpose behind his actions and words at all, as straightforward as a blank sheet of paper.

The time traveler took a deep breath and stuffed the faceless statue back into the bottom of his backpack. At the same time, he silently warned himself: "I can't let my guard down. The others may just be pretending to be stupid."

"Trier, are you alright?" Suddenly, Edith's voice rang in his ears, the princess's voice trembling and slightly off-key.

The time traveler snapped out of his daze, slowly turned his head, and then couldn't help but blink—the cold, hard blade of the Holy Avenger reflected a chilling aura.

The princess held the holy sword, her face was pale, cold sweat soaked her gray hair, and her eyes flickered.

“You just saw a demigod, didn’t you?” she asked softly. “I have also seen those magnificent beings.”

PS: First update, more to come later.

Chapter 165 Family Cemetery (Part 1)

"A demigod?" Futia looked surprised, raising her eyebrows slightly and giving a look as if she were listening to a legendary tale. "Your Highness, do you mean that those strange movements just now were because of a demigod?"

Seeing the blank look on Futia's face, Trier immediately realized that she hadn't noticed the demon lord's gaze at all—in fact, she might not even realize that the fierce battle she was involved in was orchestrated by a demigod...

The princess did not answer her best friend either; she did not even turn her head to look at him. She stared intently at Trier as if she were staring at some ancient ghost that would vanish in the blink of an eye.

“Ha, you’ve not only seen a demigod, you’re chatting with one right now.” The voices of the crowd echoed faintly in Trier’s mind. “When history becomes legend, and legend becomes myth, ignorant mortals will make a fuss about things that their ancestors took for granted… How pathetic.”

“Shut up,” Trier whispered succinctly in return.

The mocking voices of the crowd immediately ceased.

—The princess’s bright, emerald-like eyes reflected Trier’s serene face.

The transmigrator was silent for a moment, then nodded: "I did see a demigod, or more precisely, the demon lord behind these demons, Lady Bloodthorn."

“Demigods…” Edith murmured to herself, her eyelids lowered. “They really exist. That wasn’t just a hallucination I had while I was feverish. Trier…Aren’t you afraid of those powerful dark forces at all?”

Trier initially wanted to respond directly that fear was pointless, so there was no need to be afraid, and that being unable to control fear was a sign of weak will. However, just before he was about to speak, he suddenly realized that this answer was somewhat absurd. So he thought for a moment and changed to an answer that the other party would definitely like.

“We are paladins. Darkness may be powerful, but if even we retreat, then all hope will vanish,” he said slowly. “Besides, I have just sworn an oath to protect the Southern Duchy. It would be ridiculous to back down after making that oath—remember that famous line from ‘The Drunken Moon’?”

"Only through fear can one become brave?" Edith responded instinctively, then murmured, "Triel, you...you can be afraid too?"

“Like you, we are no different.” Trier’s voice was calm as he looked directly into Edith’s eyes, but his eyes seemed to be veiled in gray.

“I know that you have always been afraid—whether facing a battle where you cannot afford to be distracted, or an aggressive nobleman, or even your own friends, your own teachers, or your own family, you are always like this—you are afraid of letting them down, afraid that you are not a worthy crown prince, worried that you will disappoint them. Your Highness, I understand you very well, and I am afraid too.”

Edith was stunned; her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

Dong Dong... Dong Dong...

Trier heard the other person's heartbeat quicken suddenly, and with each word he spoke, the other person's heartbeat became even faster.

"How...how did you know? Did Futia tell you?" After a long while, Edith asked softly, her voice so faint it was almost a whisper that could be carried away by the wind.

Fythia's pointed ears twitched violently. Despite her severe injuries, upon hearing the princess's accusation, she immediately jumped up like a startled fawn: "Absolutely not! Edith, I swear!"

Staring into Edith's eyes, Trier sighed silently in his heart.

The princess was truly naive. What he had just said were rather formulaic platitudes, applicable to anyone who was sensitive, immature, impulsive, and craving recognition. They were not specific to anyone. However, the innocent Edith reacted particularly strongly to these meaningless words.

—She really craves others' approval, and she's completely unguarded, which must have some hidden reason that can be exploited.

For a fleeting moment, a flicker of pity and guilt flashed through the transmigrator's heart, which was as cold and hard as iron, but he immediately suppressed this emotion with reason.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. The weakness and melancholy that Edith was currently displaying presented an excellent opportunity to further divide the other party and Oris.

“You may think we have a lot in common, and that His Majesty the King or your teacher are very different from you.” Trier lowered his eyes, no longer meeting the other’s gaze. “But if I may be frank, at least when it comes to fear and facing fear, we are all pretty much the same. We are all just pretending to be brave and hoping that others will give us courage.”

"Master, what are you doing?" Noy's astonished voice echoed in Trier's mind. "Shouldn't we be isolating and manipulating this naive and foolish princess as soon as possible?"

Edith was stunned again, blinking in confusion.

"Trill...I thought you were very disgusted..."

“You despise your teacher, Oris?” Trier asked first.

The princess nodded.

“You’re mistaken. I have great respect for legendary paladins.” The time traveler sighed. “But even the wisest person makes mistakes. I was merely objectively pointing out some points that are difficult for me to understand in my limited knowledge, nothing more. By the light above, I only comment on specific matters.”

Suddenly, a fair and warm hand grasped Trier's left hand.

“Trier, you are a true paladin.” Edith said solemnly. She paused for a moment and then said softly, “I even narrowly suspected your intentions just now, suspecting that you, like the other nobles of the Southern Duchy, were trying to sow discord between me and my teacher.”

"Then you're absolutely right to suspect it," Trier thought to himself.

“But now it seems I was wrong, terribly wrong.” Princess Edith took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

The time traveler remained silent for a long time before gently placing his right hand on the back of the princess's hand.

"Thank you for your honesty, my friend. Well, we should head up now. If you remain missing for too long, there could be other unforeseen risks."

Edith was stunned, and the next moment, a faint smile slowly bloomed from the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you, friend.” She winked. “However, this is your family cemetery. Since we’re already here, why don’t we go in and take a look? — Speaking of which, I’ve always been very curious why the Roland family cemetery is located here, and not in Wilt City.”

Although Trier possessed an exceptionally high level of knowledge, the question directly touched upon a blind spot in his understanding...

Trier was about to choose an excuse, but Noy seemed to sense his confusion and then spoke first: "Your Highness, before your ancestors established their kingdom in the Dark Lands, Eraf was the political center of this place now known as the Southern Duchy, until a raging copper dragon burned half the city. You should have heard the story of White the Speaker."

"That cowardly lizard was that powerful?" Fythia was quite surprised. "It's usually so timid..."

"Cowardly lizard? What are you talking about?" Edith looked at her best friend blankly.

Chapter 166 Family Cemetery (Part Two)

“It was a very cowardly dragon named Auris, the same dragon from White the Speaker of Words.” Fythia gently shook her index finger. “It was in Beaver Town back then, and now it’s in this city.”

Edith seemed even more bewildered. She asked in a rather soft voice, "But... but shouldn't a dragon be a powerful and proud creature? How can it be associated with cowardice? Wait, are there evil dragons in the city?"

“It has absolutely nothing to do with a dragon. You’ll understand when you see that dragon!” Futia laughed. “It’s the most timid creature I’ve ever seen, even more timid than a forest hamster. It’ll be scared by even a loud clap of thunder.”

The princess looked up at the night sky in a daze, as if searching for traces of a dragon.

“Plague, undead, cultists, demons, and now a dragon, this place is truly…” She paused for a moment, seemingly struggling to find the right words, “chaos.”

Trier coughed lightly: "Chaos can help us get out of this predicament. Let Noy continue talking about the relationship between Eraf and Wilt. We'll talk about the dragon later."

Noi fell silent, seemingly interrupted by the elf's sudden digression. After a moment, she frowned almost imperceptibly.

After a long while, she finally regained her composure.

"Because Aulis destroyed half the city, the successor to the Duke of the South, the Builder Royce, moved the capital of the duchy from Eraf to Wirth."

"The city of Wirth is basically a one-to-one replica of the city of Erlav. The difference is that Erlav stands atop a bay and seven mountains, while Wirth is built within a valley and a crevice. The two are almost mirror-symmetrical, therefore..."

"So, Wirth and Erlav are also known as Mirror City?" Futia asked curiously.

Noi narrowed her eyes slightly: "Yes, dear Futia, you are so clever, so these two cities are called Twin Mirror Cities, and the largest lake between them is also called Mirror Lake."

Before he finished speaking, Noi quickly stepped forward and ruffled Futia's hair, turning the golden strands covered in blood scabs into a fluffy bird's nest in an instant.

"What are you doing!?" Futia was shocked. She instinctively reached out to grab him, but Noi grabbed her wrist instead.