Chapter 183: Grayscale (Part 8)
As the eastern mountain peaks gradually lit up with a soft glow, the charred ruins of Stag Town seemed to experience a slight decrease in the raging fires from the south to the east.
Smoke and ash were rising into the sky everywhere, with countless houses having collapsed into fiery heaps. The stubborn, flickering red flames still danced among the shattered walls and debris. The cobblestone roads had melted and solidified, warped into unrecognizable shapes. The bustling crowds and lively atmosphere from the previous night had utterly vanished, leaving behind only grotesque corpses strewn about in various orientations.
At the foot of the eastern hills, more bodies spread across the grassy knolls and woodlands. The fallen knight clerics appeared drained of bl**d, taking on the ghastly looks of mummies, with their sunken eye sockets wide open, stared up at the grayish daylight. In the distance, faint sounds of battle could still be heard, but with an eerie burst of crimson light, those sounds quickly faded away into the last moments of the night.
Not long after, that bizarre red glow began to flicker anew from within Stag Town, amidst the increasingly sparse and fiery ruins.
On the town’s western side, far from the demonic flames, the air wasn’t infernally hot like before, and the stench of bl**d hadn’t yet hit. By a crooked fence, a muddy little girl limped along, occasionally glancing back at the smoky town, her small eyes filled with an eerie grayness, as if life had drained from them.
The raging thunder had ceased, but the fleeing people seemed lost to the void. In their stead, the distant bl**d-red glow struck even more terror into the heart of the little girl.
Now and then, she heard sorrowful cries, sometimes alarmingly close. The little girl didn’t know where to hide; she just kept walking slowly down the dark, quiet path. When she reached the town’s western entrance, she stopped to look back one last time, still unable to grasp the reality that her mother was gone. She felt a pang of longing for her mom, nibbling on her fingers, wishing she could go back to find her.
But just then, she caught sight of a pile of bodies behind the slope outside the town entrance, their deaths horrendous, with bl**d spreading through the dirt and now dried up. A wafting, nauseating stench reached her nostrils.
In the muddled light, that shocking sight sent the little girl’s mind into a brief blank. She understood nothing; she just felt that many people had died. Staring blankly, her fingers still in her mouth, she kept that stiff posture until a shadow approached, stepping over the corpses.
It was a man wrapped in a wide black cloak, one edge stained with bl**d, wearing a peculiar mask that made him look somewhat like a fox.
Before the night fully faded, the figure loomed over the dazed little girl. She caught a whiff of the nobleman’s fragrant scent wafting from him. The fabric of his cloak shimmered in the dim light, undoubtedly expensive. Instinctively, she tilted her head and muttered, “Sir…”
Then her small body flew into the air, tumbling into a mud pit ten meters away. When she landed, bl**d spilled from her mouth and nostrils. She twitched a few times, letting out a faint whimper like that of a mosquito, and then went still.
The Black Robe man withdrew his raised foot, grinding the sole of his leather boot on the grass as if disgusted by the smell of the pig dung and mud on the little girl. After scraping off the filth with some grass, he nonchalantly turned to go.
“Hey! Are you itching for a fight? Why kick her to d*ath?”
A voice called out from ahead, as another figure draped in a black cloak emerged from the woods. This one was somewhat shorter and had a mask covering her face. Her tone was brusque, and judging by the voice, it was a woman: “Isn’t that girl the right age? Wouldn’t it be good to take her back as a patient? Honestly, don’t you know that we’re short on patients here in Silgaya? Romani Doctor has been absolutely furious about it! Can’t you use that pathetic little brain of yours to help me sort out this issue? Seriously, what’s your deal? Isn’t it chaotic enough already?”
The Black Robe man fell silent for a moment. Then a muffled voice came from under his mask: “Leave no one alive.”
“Tsk…”
The Cloaked Woman clicked her tongue in response, pacing anxiously before suddenly kicking a corpse lying nearby, venting her exasperation: “What’s the big plan here, massacre the town? Erase all witnesses!? Why are we stuck doing this nonsense? Has every poor executioner from the Choir of Saints gone off to herd livestock? Where’s Daniel? Isn’t he responsible for this area? Why on earth would management send us here? Where the heck is he?”
“Dead, I guess,” the Black Robe man shrugged.
“Useless piece of trash…”
The woman muttered a curse, her masked face likely rolling its eyes in frustration: “You’ve got quite the temper, huh? You’re the head of the voice section for the Choir, yet you’ve been dragged all the way from the cozy comfort of the Holy City to this backwoods, doing this dreadful work, and you just go along with it? Fine, just let it all fall on you; I’m not doing this, I’ll find a place to sleep.”
After saying that, she waved her hand dismissively, turning to leave: “Don’t report me for laziness, okay?”
However, just as she took a couple of steps, a flash of golden light interrupted her. The Black Robe man had already blocked her path, shaking his head: “No.”
His voice, gruff yet firm, carried an undeniable air of command: “There should still be several people we missed. Just me isn’t enough; we need to split up. You go north, I’ll go south.”
“Ugh!”
The Cloaked Woman stomped her foot in irritation, venting her frustrations: “What do you mean it’s not enough? Ramiel, you’re the esteemed head of the Choir; you can’t handle a couple of townsfolk? You just don’t want to work alone, do you?”
“Hmm.”
To her surprise, the Black Robe man nodded, directly admitting it, which sent the woman into a fit, tugging at her brown hair: “I don’t want to! I won’t do these immoral deeds. Ramiel, don’t push me; I get so frantic that even I’m scared! You all won’t complete the mission smoothly if I go off the rails!”
“Let’s get started, no more wasting time.”
Ignoring her rambling, the Black Robe man turned toward the small town. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past, lifting the cloak draped over his shoulders, causing it to billow. The light from the east illuminated the crimson thorn patterns on his cloak, brightening them for a fleeting moment.
As the golden light spread out, the man’s body ‘vroom’ vanished from the spot, leaving the woman standing dumbfounded in the breeze, still clutching her hair and cursing. But soon, she heard the voice of the section head echoing again, coming from some unknown direction.
“Keep it down; no loud shouts. Don’t let the heretics in the town catch wind of us. Our objectives align for now, so don’t stir up trouble, especially with that special ‘patient’ around here.”
The voice sounded like it was coming from far away, yet it also felt like a whispered breath in her ear: “Emily, you know this isn’t the right time for us to show ourselves.”
“…Shut up, you total unlikable j*rk.”
The woman named Emily dug in her ears, pointed disdainfully at the night sky, took a deep breath, paused for a moment, then angrily kicked a corpse and stomped off northward.
