Chapter 74: A New Henchman!
From the desolate desert heading east, crossing the endless Gobi, and entering a fortress surrounded by mountains.
A young man clad in worn armor was moving forward alone. He had just finished a battle, having dealt with a wandering ogre nearby. At this moment, he was wiping the blood off his sword blade and then sheathed his sword, walking toward the fortress nestled among the mountains. The fortress was built halfway up the slope, and such height and environment took an enormous amount of time and effort to construct. It seemed to carry a very ancient history; just a glance could evoke a sense of its long and weathered past.
There were also some dark stains on the wall, remnants of blood that had seeped into the rock, now shaped as it was.
The young man took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the fortress. Others did not seem surprised by his arrival and did not hinder him; he made his way directly to the center of the fortress’s main hall. Inside the hall were six marble columns, with almost no other decorations. The walls had some relief sculptures, giving it an expansive and empty appearance. At the front long table sat a rather burly man with a standard square face, exuding vigor, short clean hair, bushy eyebrows, and notably sharp eyes.
This man was clad in heavy armor, with a two-handed longsword resting by his knee. When he heard the sound of footsteps from others entering, he slightly raised his head and set down the quill pen in his hand. In front of him were stacks of scrolls, nearly a meter thick in total, many of which had been skimmed and set aside. It seemed he had been sitting there for a long time; beside him lay a humble meal of plain bread and thick soup.
“You’ve arrived.”
The burly man stood up, towering over the young man at more than two meters tall. He set down the quill and scrolls, his sharp and spirited gaze fixed on the young man. Time had not left many marks on his face, but the chiseled resolute features hinted at his life experiences. He was a professionist beyond legend; his powerful strength had transformed his bloodline, granting him a lifespan far longer than ordinary people.
The young man knelt on one knee, humbly lowering his head, placing his palm on the hilt of his sword, and solemnly said, “Your Honor, the Judge!…”.
The burly man did not respond; he simply continued to quietly observe the young man.
After a moment, he slowly walked down to stand before the former paladin, drawing his sword with a clang. Then he rested the blade on the young man’s shoulder, speaking solemnly, “Since you have the merit to come here, it means you have passed all previous tests! I do not know what you have experienced, encountered, or understood along your journey. All that is unimportant to me; what matters is that from today, you must learn to view the world through a different lens!”
“Now.”
“I will teach you the first lesson!”
The burly man picked up a hefty tome and handed it to the young man, stating emphatically, “Justice! By force, or by law!!!…”
“From today forth, you will study the laws governing the entire continent with me!… When you have completed your studies, I will tell you how a Judge should wield power to seek justice!… Young man, remember this: force is always the last resort!… Before resorting to force, learn to use your wisdom; the law is also our most effective weapon, even if in the end, the law requires us to use force to uphold it!…”
The Judge.
A nearly forgotten former paladin, many had completely forgotten this legendary saint. However, if Soren were present, he would recognize the burly man before him as an existence more powerful and special than the Silver Hand. Few remembered his past, but Soren knew he was one of the few legendary professionists in the world capable of directly confronting powerful deities, and the only paladin brave enough to draw his sword against the Lord of Radiance!
…
The City of Wealth.
In a dimly lit basement, a woman wearing a ghostly mask frowned, coldly addressing the others below, “What? The Lucky Coins were actually stolen? You worthless fools! Hurry and bring them back!”
Her furious voice sliced through the air like a chilling wind, making those below tremble. One man, summoning his courage, weakly said, “Your Honor, please calm down!… According to the prophecy, we must gather all twelve Lucky Coins to possibly unlock the secrets of that place!… We still have time; we can definitely retrieve the Lucky Coins!…”.
The woman wearing the ghost mask coldly glanced at him and slowly said, “I give you six months. If you cannot retrieve the Lucky Coins by then, you can discuss it personally with the Saint.”
The Lucky Coins.
A legendary special item said to bring good fortune.
There are a total of twelve Lucky Coins, with the front embossed with the image of the oldest Goddess of Luck, not the current Goddess of Luck, and the back depicting twelve different constellations, each representing different meanings. There are few records about the Lucky Coins, known only to bring good fortune, but there’s an additional tale: once all twelve Lucky Coins are gathered, the thirteenth coin representing misfortune and calamity can be found.
It is an ancient artifact!
It could even be used to curse the gods, crafted by the Goddess of Luck for her own protection.
…
The Overseas Islands.
Upon the appearance of the Drow Warriors, Soren’s face showed little joy.
For one, their arrival was much later than he had anticipated. According to his original plan, the Drow should have arrived before he set off for the Overseas Islands, not after he had already established a camp there. In the distance, a group of Drow Warriors appeared. Although their equipment was somewhat worn, their aura was strong; despite there only being thirty-one Drow, their synchronized steps and cold gazes were even more striking than a hundred pirates.
These Drow Warriors easily evoked memories of the Elven armies from “The Lord of the Rings.” Among many warrior races, Elves were the most disciplined, while among all Elves, the Drow army’s rule was the most ruthless. An Elven warrior trained for a long period, far surpassing the time spent by warriors of other races, so in terms of overall quality, Elven armies are among the best. As for the Drow Warriors, their training was even more rigorous, far exceeding that of their kind.
All were third-tier or higher professionists!
Soren merely glanced at the Drow Warriors before deducing their abilities, noting that almost all had combat power at the level of small pirate captains. This combat power could serve as a Patrol Captain in surface cities but could only pass as a more elite patrol squad in the Underdark; they didn’t even qualify to apply to become a Stone Lizard Knight. It seemed their lineage had weakened significantly; Soren couldn’t see many fourth-tier Drow Warriors among them.
One must know that the strict standard for Drow Warriors in the Underdark is a profession level of 15.
“Your Honor.”
The leading Drow Warrior seemed eager to showcase their strength. After halting and turning swiftly, the Drow Warriors behind him mirrored his movement perfectly, without any discord. To the pirates, this was a display of impressive power and intimidation, but for Soren, it was commonplace; he had seen more awe-inspiring formations in his past life. Perhaps their combat power could not match these Drow Warriors, yet he had witnessed more formidable arrays.
Soren calmly nodded and said slowly, “Everyone else stay outside; you come with me.”
“I happen to have something to discuss with you!”
This group of Drow Warriors arrived just in time, as Soren precisely needed a batch of henchmen.
…
(PS: Today’s writing is a bit slow; I estimate I can only produce two updates.) (To be continued ~^~)
