Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 118: Make an Offer
Colestoro firmly believed that he was about to die.
It seemed that the pain that would last until eternity suddenly stopped, followed by an unreal calm and nothingness. The molten iron surging in the soul turned into cotton wool, and the toxins that corroded the body turned into a warm wind. At that moment, his body seemed to no longer exist. This was probably the moment of death. He thought in a daze that his long nightmare had finally come to an end.
Colestoro waited quietly, but then he heard voices—vague human voices, low insect sounds, and the rustle of leaves rubbing against each other. The air was filled with the familiar smell of vegetation. He wrinkled his nose and opened his eyes with difficulty.
Virgil was lowering his head and staring intently at him.
Colestoro was silent for a few seconds. He raised his hand, slapped the opponent’s head mercilessly a few times, and directly tilted Virgil’s head to the side. The touch was real, and he was extremely surprised by this fact—Colestoro waited in horror for a moment, but the severe pain did not return.
He opened his mouth, and his vocal cords, which had not been used for a long time, were as stiff as dry cowhide.
“Duri.” Colestoro was still in a period of confusion. He tried hard to express his shock in one word.
“…You’re getting fat.” He used the second short sentence to give a dry greeting.
Virgil smiled a little reluctantly. He didn’t say a word and continued to look at the demon who was still trying to turn his head and look around. The festering pain that had been in the bottom of the exorcist’s heart was suddenly torn open, and the deeply embedded fangs were torn off, bringing out the pus, blood, and carrion that had accumulated for many years. Fresh blood rushed out with the outbreak of pain, and he knew that after the pain, the wound would eventually scab and heal completely.
Virgil stretched out his hands and hugged the demon tightly, burying his head in his shoulders and neck with tears constantly falling down his cheeks. The latter frowned and struggled. “It’s too wet.” The demon tried to clear his throat and protested in a low voice.
“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “I can’t control it for the time being.”
“What’s the matter?” Colestoro’s eyes swept past the Tumbleweed members standing not far away, and finally stayed in the direction of the Church of Silence. The spire of the church had long since disappeared, and only the blackened tops of dead trees were left under the sky. He frowned. There was a little more urgency in his tone.
“Your… Uh, the demon warlock entrusted us.” The rest of the group were not in high spirits, with the exception of Jesse Dylan, who spoke leisurely. “In any case, you’re now free.”
Colestoro stood up in disbelief, almost unsteadily. He took a few weak steps and closed his eyes, as if perceiving something. Those lavender eyes were full of ecstasy when they opened. His gaze turned to Jesse again. There was a bit more curiosity and vigilance in the ecstasy.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jesse spread out his hands and nodded in Nemo’s direction. “I didn’t do it.”
Only then did Colestoro notice Nemo in the shadow of the tree. The embarrassed black-haired young man’s aura was very weak, close to nothing. He couldn’t even tell whether the other party was a real creature or an illusion.
“Thank you.” Colestoro couldn’t figure out the opponent’s strength, so he could only thank him politely first.
But the other party didn’t respond to him. The black-haired young man leaned against the trunk of the tree, holding the staff tightly in his arms, staring at a non-existent point in the air. Obviously, he was in a daze.
Nemo was indeed in a daze. Everything in front of him seemed to be separated by a thick film of water. The sounds and colors of the outside world could not really reach his spirit. They barely entered his mind, and then there was only a vague and ambiguous mass left. After making a plan, Nemo began to calm down…
Compared to stabilizing his emotions, his state at this moment was closer to sorting out his thoughts.
The skull fragments in the Church of Silence, just like the one in the Church of Repentance, contained part of Ulysses’ memories. In the battle just now, Nemo didn’t dare explore those vague memories, and now he finally had a relatively stable environment that allowed him to roughly disseminate and peep into them. It could briefly divert his attention from the fact that “Oliver’s fate was uncertain”, allowing him to regain the strength to breathe steadily.
However, all it brought was pain.
Nemo’s feet were cold. Even though they were scattered fragments, they were heavy enough for him now.
[My name is Flint Lopez, and I sincerely look forward to seeing you again.]
Nemo untied the gold pendant that had been hanging on his chest and held it in the palm of his hand. It was soaked in his body temperature, with a soft and reassuring warmth. He opened it, and the portrait of the young girl inside was exposed to the sun again. Her smile was also full of sunshine, and at this moment, it seemed that the smile was inexplicably familiar.
This woman has never been his blood relative, and this pendant wasn’t proof that he was born as a human being. On the contrary, its meaning may be even colder—it most likely represented deception and exploitation.
This was a thank you gift from Flint Lopez. Considering the topic that made Mr. Lopez chatter—Nemo put his hand on the pendant, and the black shadow instantly wrapped around the metal. Within half a minute, they squirmed and retreated, revealing pendants that looked almost brand new, as well as a vivid portrait.
The signature of the pendant after the gift had also been restored. The words “Your Flint” were clear and beautiful.
Yes, if he guessed correctly, this woman should be Oliver’s mysterious mother. If Oliver was here, if he discovered all this under other circumstances, he would share this information with him with pride and joy.
How he wished he was really just what Flint called a “kind-hearted wanderer”.
But Nemo now remembers very clearly that those fragments contained memories of Ulysses before his death. He remembered sending Oliver’s father back to the team and the fierce battle in the dark after that. He now recognized the people in those clips, and even talked about them familiarly—the heroes he once admired, their beautiful and brilliant lives.
[My lover and companion are still waiting for me—I am so happy, I’ll definitely survive!]
Flint Lopez once proudly mentioned this in front of him, but those companions would certainly leave him behind.
During the previous adventures of the Tin Soldier Mercenary Group, he occasionally thought about this slightly negative question. Those who were as gorgeous as sparks would have a heroic end. They stood before evil, protected innocent people behind their backs, and died tragically in a dignified manner.
However, this wasn’t the case.
The facts should be more cruel and simpler. Their deaths were no different from others. Nemo still remembers the temperature of the blood when it sprayed on him, and the touch of his claws when they passed through their bodies. To make matters worse, the screams of the survivors who had lost their friends were also audible; so audible that they appeared to be etched into his brain.
They were killed by him, and at that time he didn’t have any emotions close to sadness. They shouted, fell down exhausted, and finally fell silent. Like a candle extinguished in a torrential rain.
Nemo also remembered the final blow Flint Lopez gave him. The mask of the head of the Tin Soldier Mercenary Regiment fell off in the fierce battle, and the brilliance of the magic array illuminated his young face.
The ensuing blade cut his neck was extremely cold, and death came with unprecedented pain, but “Ulysses” still didn’t harbor anger or sadness at that time, and he was terribly calm.
There was indeed a plan. Nemo held the pendant in the palm of his hand. He didn’t believe that Flint Lopez would be stupid enough to be separated from the team, nor did he believe that he would simply send his opponent back to his team “out of kindness.” He personally told Mr. Lopez how to get the skull out…
At that moment, he successfully stood on the surface.
Nemo hugged his arms. The summer sun was extremely warm, but he had never been so cold. The sun had no weight, but at this moment he was almost completely overwhelmed by it.
Suddenly, someone came over and stopped in front of him to cover the oblique warm light. Nemo raised his head slightly and saw the unique black of the Laddism uniform.
Adrian Cross was standing in front of him.
Of course, he thought numbly. This time he didn’t know how many flaws had been exposed. Virgil must have explained to them the identity of Colestoro, or even earlier, Dylan wouldn’t necessarily hide the secret about the Church of Silence. His “power” was no longer a hazy and ambiguous unknown, but a clear object of comparison…
He was stronger than the Aurorae.
With his recent performance, the former Knight of Judgement commander had definitely noticed something odd. But not now. Nemo didn’t directly look into Adrian’s eyes. Please, not now.
“Those sacrifices are fine if it makes you feel better,” Adrian Cross said, his voice as low and calm as ever. “Dylan and I have sent them to a safe place.”
Nemo raised his head in surprise.
“I will discuss with Ms. Savage and try to find someone to keep an eye on the prison in Alban to see if Mr. Ramon is among the recently transferred prisoners.” Adrian’s tone was a bit blunt. “You don’t need to do this alone.”
He nodded at him and walked away without asking any questions.
“Smart approach. Very smart.” After Adrian returned to his original position, Jesse whistled in a low voice. “I thought you were going to have a small interrogation. You see, Light is in a chaotic state right now. He might not be able to withstand your inquiry.”
“He’s in pain and he still hasn’t done anything out of line. Now that I know how powerful he is… It’s reasonable. I shouldn’t persecute him at this time.” Adrian shook his head. He stared at the flawless face of the blond young man. “I prefer to ask people with clear answers.”
Jesse was yawning and immediately closed his mouth when he heard the words. In an ambiguous tone, he replied, “Then how do you want to repay me?”
But Adrian did not respond, and instead turned the topic elsewhere. “…And compared to Mr. Light’s life, another thing is more worrying now.”
“There was a burst of aura in the center of the battlefield just now… A bit familiar.” Adrian subconsciously stroked the suture of the fabric on his chest, which was originally the position of the holy emblem of the Laddism Church. “Even if the information is slightly insufficient, what I can detect, other Knights of Judgement must also be able to detect—regarding the immensity of Mr. Light’s power.”
“There will definitely be a reaction from the Laddism side.”
At the same time.
Oliver wasn’t too surprised at the moment of the conviction. It was better to say that if he really, inexplicably, became a knight of a king or archbishop on the surface, the horror of this incident would officially escalate. He didn’t plan to accept the accusation. Oliver racked his brains and couldn’t think of when he had an intersection with such a great figure.
This may be a trick from his opponent, he thought to himself as he tried to look calm. No matter what the so-called “Gatekeepers” wanted, his behavior would be revealed as malice. It seemed that the “Gatekeepers” wanted to convict him; the heavier the crime, the better.
However, he couldn’t imagine the purpose of the other party.
If this is related to Lopez’s bloodline, his dear cousin is doing well outside, and Oliver didn’t think Godwin Lopez would hype their relationship. If this is related to his power… He also didn’t think that being locked up in the depths of a prison would be of great use to the Gatekeepers.
“I don’t admit it,” Oliver’s tone was firm.
“We don’t need your confession.” The test inspector shrugged as he snapped back. “The evidence now is enough. It’s a pity. It seems that you’re really a dirty Knight of Silence. To be honest, you really almost tricked me… You do talk a lot.”
“It’s impossible for a Knight of Silence to pass this test.” Oliver made it clear. “You know, I have no malice.”
“There are many ways to hide your malice. Who knows if you have temporarily blocked part of your memory?” The nib of the quill pen quickly wiped the parchment as the test inspector muttered. “Well, Mr. Ramon, prepare to go back to your hometown in two days. For Alban, a felon like you is worthy of being locked up for ten and a half days before being slowly burned to death in the square.”
Oliver clenched his fists.
Don’t panic. He had to wait for them to let their guard down. He still had a chance. Oliver emphasized this to himself repeatedly. His only advantage was his awareness in his own strength, and he couldn’t expose this now.
The soldiers, who were tightly wrapped in iron armor, grasped Oliver’s arms from side to side, causing the chains to make a harsh rubbing sound. Oliver didn’t struggle. He was dragged all the way down the stairs and finally thrown into the unpleasant-smelling cell.
It was dark and humid, and there were no beds. The straw in the corner emitted a suffocating musty smell. The ground was covered with black sticky stains, and when he stepped on them, they made a sticky noise. It only added to the stench of rotten blood and excrement that was in the air. There was no smell of spoiled food scraps. Oliver sniffed. This wasn’t like the environment where prisoners were held for long. It should be a temporary place to hold death row prisoners. The prisoners waited desperately here before being transported back to their country for execution.
Oliver quickly looked at the surrounding environment, trying to find any omissions that could be exploited. It was a pity that the omission hadn’t been found yet, but he reunited with an old acquaintance…
Micah was huddled in a small room not far away and was desperately banging his head against the wall. Oliver tried to greet him a few times, but before he could speak, the suffocating pain in his neck choked his throat first.
It seemed that he was temporarily unable to communicate with others. Oliver silently made note of this. He subconsciously put his hand on his waist. To his surprise, they didn’t take away his sword—although he couldn’t do anything with it now.
However, that gave him an inexplicable foreboding. All kinds of details revealed madness and abnormality.
It was like everyone knew what might happen, and he was alone in the dark. He didn’t like this feeling very much. He must escape as soon as possible. It was best to accumulate strength, lest he be unprepared when they transferred him…
However, Oliver didn’t expect the transfer to come so quickly, and it seemed that the destination waiting for him wasn’t Alban.
A visitor wrapped his face tightly with a wide white cloth that covered all his facial features. He stood indifferently in front of Oliver’s cell and pointed at Oliver casually.
“I want it,” the weird stranger said. His voice was hoarse and unpleasant. “I want it now. Let Alban make an offer.”
The author has something to say:
Oliver: ??? This time I feel as though I’m worth more than 1,500 gold coins.
Nemo: (Disk defragmentation, system overload warning)