Chapter 181: Grayscale (Part Six)
The scattered sword lights danced through the crowd, leaving behind fleeting shadows. Before the head of the Captain of Knights could even hit the floor, the remnants of limbs and severed arms shot high into the air. The startled antelope whinnied, only to be cleaved in half by a blade of air, warm bl**d and entrails gushing out as the bent old man strolled leisurely among the ranks of the Golden Armored Knights, a short kn*fe in one hand and a short sword in the other, cold light flashing as bl**d splattered everywhere!
“The Gate of Truth!”
The revived knights caught sight of the old man’s bl**d-red eyes in the darkness and drew their swords as they shouted, “It’s a heretic—”
“Surround him! Quickly surround him! He’s just one person!!!”
“The Faith Organization, unleash the Sin Barrier—”
Amid the rising waves of bl**d, shouts erupted as heads flew. A few warriors in the back clasped their hands to their chests, murmuring softly, the faint golden light beginning to bloom. Just then, that spectral figure surged forward, footsteps erratic, dodging among the clerics and stirring up dust. The freshly ignited golden glow soon dimmed amidst the spraying bl**d.
Soon, the sounds of slaughter began to weaken.
Under the thin moonlight, the old man stood trembling in a pool of bl**d, flicking his bl**d-stained short kn*fe, then turning to gaze at the corpses sprawled around. The stench of bl**d hung heavily in the air, the Golden Armor drenched in dark red. The flowing bl**d and entrails tainted the ground, scattered torches igniting hair. The old man looked at the scene for a long while, sheathing his kn*fe and sword, placing his right fist against his chest, and bowing slightly.
“I apologize to you, young warriors.”
He then smoothed out some disheveled hair, raised his head to gaze at the two crescent moons hanging in the sky, the moonlight dim but tinged with firelight, casting a reflection on his frail, bloodless face.
“You…”
At his feet, the severed deputy wasn’t quite dead yet. He reached out, grabbing the old man’s trousers with a twisted, trembling face, “The truth… the member of the door…”
“Member…”
The old man seemed to remember something, momentarily lost in thought, then shook his head, “No, I’m just a dutiful old servant.”
Clang—
The sound of steel rang, a flash of cold light flickered; the old man drew and sheathed his blade in an instant, his hand appeared to have not moved at all, yet the deputy’s expression suddenly went blank, and the next moment, his face slowly split along the bridge of his nose.
The old man turned and left.
He was slightly hunched as he walked unsteadily under the faint light, wobbling over the corpses as if about to fall at any moment, occasionally coughing lightly. From a distance, his frail silhouette looked like a pitiful old man who had weathered too many storms.
The aged servant stepped through the bl**d-soaked ground, passing through towering wooden groves, soon arriving at the creek’s edge. The red glimmer in his eyes had not faded; it shone mysteriously in the dark. He walked slowly along the stream, as if searching for something, and soon picked up a bl**d-red pearl the size of a fist from the bushes.
He clenched the bl**d pearl in his hand, then turned to gaze carefully at the lake water beneath the bubbling, ink-like black mist, which seemed to churn and boil. After a long while, he murmured, “My lady, I hope everything we sacrifice for this is indeed something that can’t wait and is truly worth it…”
After finishing, the old servant seemed to sense something, glancing toward a distant hillside.
Over there, emerald trees jutted toward the sky, a breeze ruffling the treetops, branches rustling in the murky night, and apart from that, the place seemed utterly empty, with no signs of animals around. However, after that glance, the old man nodded slightly, as though greeting someone.
Then, with a whoosh, the hunched figure suddenly vanished from where he stood, as if he had never been there.
But that one look made Anna Celis, sitting cross-legged atop the old tree and tearing at dry bread, freeze in place. Moments later, she felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down her forehead.
She realized she had exposed her position, yet the old man made no further move and silently left.
After a long time, once she confirmed that the man had genuinely gone far away, Anna Celis’s tense body slowly relaxed. She tore off another piece of the dry bread, chewing it slowly, feeling somewhat relieved in her heart.
What had just happened on the hillside, she saw it all. The old man’s power was almost unfathomable; if confronted directly, Anna Celis lacked the confidence to win, and considering her injuries, she might indeed have died there.
But the mission wasn’t complete, the money for her mother’s treatment was still unearned; she couldn’t d*e here.
Anna Celis contemplated this while tearing off several more pieces of bread, quickly finishing it off. She wrapped the remaining small half in cloth and tucked it into the pouch at her waist. Patting her hands, she leaned against the tree trunk and stood up; leaves rustled down around her, and the dark lake nearby continued to churn restlessly.
And sinking into the black water was none other than that Pope Knight girl named Silvya, who the Pope had specifically advised her to keep an eye on.
At this moment, Anna Celis vaguely understood what the Pope had meant back in the Underground Prison when he said, “When hungry, one might go mad.” After receiving her orders, she hastily arrived, hiding in the shadows of the town, watching that frail girl transform into a fearsome demon, using extremely evil powers to devour another scarlet monster down to the last piece, leaving nothing behind as it plummeted into the lake.
She didn’t quite comprehend what such power really meant, but she recognized that the black mist was a unique ability of the Abyss.
It was Chaotic Power…
Anna Celis couldn’t fathom why a Pope Knight, a human girl, could wield the strength of a monster. Such things had long exceeded her understanding; in fact, ever since she emerged from that barren wasteland into this world, numerous things had surpassed her understanding, like the fact that a small cake could be sold for eight silver coins—an outrageous price, and so many people scrambling to buy it.
She also couldn’t understand why girls in the city liked to wear extravagant dresses, making themselves so noticeable. To her, that was the silliest of behaviors, as in her world, it only meant wandering around showing off, “Look at me, I’m a plump little lamb!” If she went back to where she used to live, she surely wouldn’t survive.
This world was full of unfathomable things. Anna Celis was well aware that she wasn’t clever, but she wasn’t foolish either. She understood that a certain d*ath could come from “loose lips,” so she preferred to keep quiet and not think too much, making it possible to live a bit longer and save enough money for her mother’s treatment.
After her mother was cured, she planned to find a remote yet not savage place to settle down, no longer a wanderer—perhaps she simply wasn’t cut out for survival in this bustling world. The colorful, mesmerizing sights of those small towns, the intricate relationships between people, conversations, trust, and deceit—she couldn’t adapt to all that.
This time should be the last task…
Anna Celis thought.
She stared into the lake for a moment, took a deep breath, and then turned to look back.
There lay the direction of Stag Town, burning with Infernal Fire.
In the night, hesitation flickered in her eyes.
Yet that hesitation vanished in an instant, and only cold, resolute determination remained. Anna Celis tightened her grip around the sword in her arms, leapt from the tall tree, a flash of Thunder Light illuminating her figure as she darted across the hillside, plunging into the boundless darkness.
Not long after, she arrived at the small town, which was gradually being consumed by fire.
The charred houses collapsed under the licking flames, lava flowed from the shattered roads to either side, the air hot enough to suffocate, thick black smoke rising everywhere, and the sound of crackling flames filled the air.
Occasionally, oppressed cries reached her ears.
Anna Celis held her long sword with one hand, following the sound of the cries. Soon, she found a woman kneeling in front of a collapsed house, desperately clawing at the wood beams that trapped a man underneath, flames licking hungrily at her from not far away. Her hair was already burned to a dry yellow, and her face and hands blistered and blackened.
The man trapped beneath the wood had half of his body burned to a crisp, dead beyond resurrection, yet the woman seemed unwilling to accept it, digging and pulling, desperately trying to free him. But she lacked strength, her face filled with despair, and upon hearing footsteps approaching, she turned back, her eyes wide.
When she saw Anna Celis, she paused for a moment, then grasped at the opportunity like a lifeline, hope rekindled in her eyes, lips trembling as she said, “Please, my husband… help me, save him… save him…”
Anna Celis walked forward.
“Please, I beg you, lift this beam off him…”
The woman pleaded, and Anna Celis looked down, her expression expressionless, letting out a breath, “He’s dead.”
“No, no, he’s not dead! He’s still alive! He’s still alive…”
“Do you want to see him again?” Anna Celis closed her eyes.
She heard the woman’s voice quiver, “I… I want to… I want to see him so badly…”
“Then go see him.”
Clang—
The sword was drawn from her embrace.
“You…”
Confusion flickered in the woman’s eyes as she reflected the sword’s light, but then, it was as if she suddenly understood something.
In the next moment, the sword flashed, bl**d splattered, and the woman collapsed, droplets of bl**d spattering onto Anna Celis’s face—its heat felt more intense than the flames of Inferno.
Anna Celis kept her eyes closed.
…………
In the brushlands to the south of Stag Town, the scarlet flames were roaring fiercely.
The raging fire spread through the woods, flames leaping four to five meters high, amidst the swirling dense smoke, a faint golden glimmer dimmed, and a thunderous crash echoed as the Sin Barrier encasing the dancer shattered. A figure leaped out, dancing through the fire, her red dress billowing in the wind, her stunning face as cold as frost.
Not far from the woman, the pale, bloodied Olivia, soaked in dark red from the waist up, suddenly crumpled to the ground, her face pale and bl**d spilling from her mouth and nose.
“You…”
The icy dancer approached her, speaking softly, “Not too shabby.”
“This kind of thing… do you even need to say it, you damned heretic…”
Nearby, leaning against a bluestone, Karl, who was equally drenched in bl**d, smiled mournfully at the comment.
He glanced at Olivia, who was motionless on the ground, tears spilled from his bloodshot eyes, but his expression quickly softened, although that tenderness lasted only a moment before turning into a bloodthirsty sneer as he stood up, his palm glowing, a golden blade materializing, staring at the dancer and declaring, “Come on, take another hit from me…”
He could barely stand, staggering forward, but his pace quickened, and he let out a desperate shout, ultimately breaking into a run.
The woman watched him coldly, and as Karl approached, she lifted her hand gracefully.
Thud thud thud!
Three sounds of tearing flesh rang out, as sharp, eerie light pierced through the man’s abdomen, right shoulder, and left chest.
