How come this arcanist is invincible?

Chapter 50 The Wrath of the Coward

Kane suddenly looked up and quickly said to Reed and Sienna:

"I have something urgent to attend to, I'll be going now!"

"What's wrong?"

The two asked in unison.

But Kane had already turned and run out of the chapel, leaving only a fleeting glimpse of his back.

The sky was overcast, and a light drizzle began to fall.

Raindrops fell on the bluestone slabs, splashing muddy water that flowed along the roadside like a small stream.

A black carriage sped along the slippery road, its wheels screeching as they rolled over puddles.

Inside the carriage, Kane closed his eyes and concentrated, his right hand resting on the curved knife at his waist, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt.

The clues raced through his mind.

"Human nature is inherently base."

He thought to himself.

"In order to quell public anger, the city guards and the Night Watch have been ruthlessly eliminating the underground forces, and may have even taken the opportunity to seize their accumulated wealth."

"And these underground forces are no match for the well-equipped and powerful city guards and Night Watchmen."

"With nowhere to vent their anger, they will most likely turn to unarmed civilians."

He remembered a phrase.

The brave are enraged and draw their swords against the stronger; the cowardly are enraged and draw their swords against the weaker.

These guys are definitely the latter.

"Of the seven districts, the seventh district has the weakest defenses."

"Since they've chosen revenge, this is definitely their target."

Kane suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp, and looked at the street scene rushing past the car window.

The raindrops pattered against the car window, blurring the outlines of the houses in the distance.

He frowned and muttered to himself:

"It's raining, which is good news for me."

"However, we still need to find someone to find out their exact location in the Seventh District first."

……

The Sixth District.

The intelligence broker Fogg emerged from a dimly lit mercenary tavern, his neck hunched.

He walked briskly through the narrow, muddy alleys and soon returned to his residence.

As soon as I opened the door, a damp, musty smell hit me.

Fogg closed the door behind him and glanced warily around the room.

He pulled a heavy cloth bag from his pocket and then walked quickly to the bedside.

He bent down and forcefully lifted the bed board, stuffing the cloth bag into the box inside.

But he was still not at ease, so he squatted down again, lifted the bed board once more, and stared at the more than fifty gold coins scattered in the box.

In the dim light, the gold coins gleamed alluringly.

Fogg's eyes sparkled.

He counted the gold coins one by one, over and over again, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

"Have you finished counting?"

A cold voice suddenly came from behind, startling Fogg.

He panicked and his hand suddenly pressed against the dagger at his waist, his whole body tensing up.

But the next second, he felt a dagger pressed against the back of his neck, making him shiver involuntarily.

Fogg slowly raised his hands, trying to make his voice sound calm:

"No, don't kill me! I only have thirty gold coins here. If you want more, I can take you to a wealthy merchant guild!"

"Who wants your money?"

The familiar voice came again, and Fogg's mind raced.

He tentatively asked:

"Is it... Kane?"

Kane chuckled softly and removed the dagger he had pressed against the back of Kane's neck.

Fogg turned around and saw what the person looked like.

Kane wore a large black robe, the hood covering most of his face.

But this outfit, clearly meant to conceal his identity, made Fogg think he was about to carry out a murder mission.

He couldn't help but feel even more apprehensive.

He quickly suppressed his fear, put on a fawning smile, rubbed his hands together, and asked:

"Lord Kane, is there any information you'd like me to investigate?"

Kane stared at him and got straight to the point:

"Where in the Seventh District are those underground forces that were recently wiped out by the City Guard and the Night Watch gathered?"

The Seventh District is too large, and the slums stretch as far as the eye can see.

Without a specific location, it's impossible to find the target accurately.

Fogg lowered his head and thought for a while, his eyes darting around, clearly hesitant about whether or not to speak.

Finally, under Kane's icy gaze, he chickened out and whispered:

"They seem to be active around the Rat Hill area lately, and it looks like they're planning something big."

Kane put away his weapon and looked down, seemingly deep in thought.

Fogg mustered his courage, rubbed his hands together, and said cautiously:

"Um... intelligence fee..."

Kane suddenly looked up and stared at him:

"I was attacked by an assassin before, did you leak my address?"

"Not many people know my exact address. Apart from the Night's Watch, only information brokers like you can find it out."

Fogg shuddered in fright and shook his head repeatedly, his tone urgent.

"It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!"

Seeing that Kane still looked doubtful, he gritted his teeth and hurriedly explained.

"The address of your Night's Watch is not exactly a top secret."

"Before this, those underground forces already knew the addresses of many people in order to avoid provoking you."

He paused, his tone tinged with complaint:

"But this time, you've gone too far."

Previously, everyone had kept to themselves and maintained a tacit understanding.

"But this time you broke the rules and wiped out the underground forces, which forced them to take desperate measures."

Kane's eyes turned cold, and he retorted:

"The tacit understanding you're talking about, is it just letting them harm innocent civilians?"

Fogg was speechless after being choked by one sentence. His face turned red, and he couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

Kane ignored him and turned to walk towards the door.

Seeing this, Fogg breathed a sigh of relief and thought to himself: This plague god is finally leaving.

But just as Kane pushed open the door and was about to walk out...

He suddenly stopped, turned around, looked at Fogg, and said calmly:

"There will be no second time for the rusty hand."

"What?"

Fogg's expression changed drastically, and he froze on the spot, his heart filled with turmoil.

He actually knew that he had sold his information to the Rust Hand!

But seeing Kane actually turn and leave, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, secretly rejoicing:

"Fortunately, this matter was resolved with just one piece of information. It was a great deal."

He turned around and impatiently squatted down by the bed again.

He lifted the bed board, wanting to take another look at his gold coins.

But the next second, his face turned deathly pale.

The space under the bed was empty; the thirty-odd gold coins were gone!

……

Kane walked out of Fogg's hut and stuffed the gold coins into his pocket.

He memorized the place name "Rat Hill".

The city of war has seven districts and a huge population, estimated to be nearly one million.

So many people generate a lot of garbage every day.

Most of this garbage is transported by scavengers in carts to the landfill in the seventh district. Once a certain amount is accumulated, it is then transported out of the city.

That huge garbage dump was infested with rats all year round, and the rats were fat and plentiful.

Therefore, it was called "mouse hill".

"Hopefully they haven't started yet."

Without the slightest hesitation, Kane immediately headed towards Rathill in the Seventh District.

The roads here are so muddy that horse-drawn carriages cannot pass.

He could only proceed on foot, and it took him quite a while to reach his destination.

The fine drizzle continued to fall, and Kane's black robes were already soaked through.

The cold rain dripped down his clothes, soaking his shoes and socks.

But he didn't care at all, his sharp gaze sweeping over everything in front of him.

Under the gloomy sky, a light rain was falling, and puddles of water were everywhere, some deep and some shallow.

Low, dilapidated houses are scattered haphazardly around the landfill.

These houses are mostly built with materials such as straw, rags, and discarded wooden boards, and they look like they could collapse at any moment.

An indescribable stench permeated the air.

The sour smell of rotting food, the fishy smell of livestock manure, and the rancid smell of sewage.

There was also the smell of unknown rotting debris mixed in, making one almost nauseous.

The dark brown piles of garbage stretched out in waves, and every now and then a fat rat would dart out from the garbage.

It made a "squeaking" sound and quickly disappeared into another pile of garbage.

Kane walked through the junkyard, his feet sinking into the muddy ground, the trash crunching under his feet.

Sewage splashed onto his trouser legs, soaking them and covering them with mud.

The more he walked, the more uneasy he felt; it was too quiet.

Although the rat hill is a huge garbage dump, garbage is also a resource in some ways.

Where there are resources, there will inevitably be powerful forces coveting them, and poor people will gather.

But he didn't see a single person along the way.

He stopped, lowered his head slightly, and carefully sniffed the air.

Besides the pungent stench, he also detected a faint, barely perceptible smell of blood.

Kane's eyes narrowed, and he immediately followed the direction from which the smell of blood was coming.

Soon, he saw a simple hut built of straw and rags.

The smell of blood was emanating from this small house, and it was growing stronger and stronger.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and forcefully pulled open the dilapidated wooden door.

"Squeak—"

The wooden door screech loudly, shattering the surrounding silence.

The sight inside the door caused Kane's pupils to contract sharply.

A man, a woman, and a child lay in a pool of blood.

Their faces were frozen in extreme fear, and their bodies were covered with countless wounds of varying depths.

It is conceivable that there was more than one perpetrator, and that they committed the crime with a desire for pleasure.

Kane remained silent and walked into the shack.

After carefully laying the three bodies flat, he reached out his hand.

He gently closed their wide-open eyes, which were trembling with fear.

"I'm sorry I'm late."