Chapter 77: Eye of Wisdom (Part Two)
“… It’s nothing.”
I momentarily spaced out, shook my head, and cast aside the emotional waves that had surged just a moment ago. I didn’t want to waste time standing here reminiscing about anything.
“Just thinking of some old memories.”
I said softly, glancing at the Female Swordsman before turning away. “Let’s go, it’s about to get dark.”
Bang—
Moon Step resumed.
In the distance to the west, the sunlight was spilling down, increasingly tinted with red. The clouds on the horizon glowed a brilliant pink, and the light broke through the clouds to illuminate the ancient castle below, casting a massive shadow that enveloped the square in front of it. The corpses kneeling there in prayer were gradually being swallowed by the encroaching dusk.
Maybe in another hour or two, night would fully drape its curtain.
I didn’t want to spend the night here…
If possible, I wanted to deal with the “danger” in the castle before night fell.
After that, let’s leave this place as quickly as we can…
Hoo hoo hoo—
The wind howled, whipping at my face.
I began to leap faster across the castle rooftop, closing in on the direction of the small church as quickly as possible. Behind me, thunder rolled, and the Sword Demon Miss, cloaked in flickering arcs of electricity, was hot on my tail.
The small church wasn’t far from the castle, but it wasn’t exactly close either. If we were to walk there normally, it would probably take at least 20 minutes to half an hour.
But that distance was nothing but a hair’s breadth for either of us. Soon, we approached the northern wall of the inner fortress, and in my vision, the circular golden spire beneath the wall began to emerge from between the numerous houses.
But here…
The kneeling corpses showed some new changes compared to those on the streets before and in the circular plaza in front of the inner fortress.
As I darted forward, I scanned the blurred street below, noticing that as we got closer to the small church, the number of corpses kneeling in various places diminished significantly. They were no longer as densely packed as before, and there was plenty of room to roam…
In contrast, the number of corpses dressed as clergy began to increase.
Clerics, Nuns…
The number of “dried corpses” in white and black robes was rising. After leaping over two more streets, arriving at the area that originally belonged to the church within the fortress, the sight was overwhelming; it was full of bodies. Among them, I even spotted a Father and a Bishop, mixing in with the numerous dead Clerics and Nuns. Although they were few, they were very conspicuous.
The postures of these corpses seemed more devout, and curiously, there also appeared to be strong undercurrents of unease or even terror intertwined with that devotion.
That emotion was clearly evident from the varied postures of the corpses, because unlike the peaceful civilians who died while praying, these clergy members near the small church seemed fervent yet fearful. Before dying, many had even raised their hands in bizarre, twisted poses that were somewhat unsettling, and in that moment, they quickly perished.
And they faced the direction of the small church.
d*mn…
What on earth could have done this?
I felt my heart race.
Since waking up in the Eastern Continent, I hadn’t experienced this kind of anxiousness and desire to leave quickly for a long time.
Bang!
With a loud thud, I landed firmly on the top of a low-building street corner, standing on the worn bricks, and lifted my head.
Ahead, right across the street, the doors of the small church stood ominously ajar.
Crack—
In the next moment, accompanied by a flicker of lightning in my peripheral vision, the Sword Demon Miss landed next to me.
“Small church? Is this the place?”
She stepped out from the dissipating electric arcs and walked up to me, her furrowed brow and tense expression staring at the pitch-black, wide-open doors of the church.
“Ah…”
I nodded absently.
This was the place…
Though I had never been here before, it was clear just from looking.
Silent Fortress wasn’t considered a large city. It lacked the grandeur of Royal City or Winter City, along with any impressive urban infrastructure. It was merely a noble’s private territory, centered around the inner fortress of House Alanst. All the residents, both inside and outside the castle, were either servants or descendants who had served the Alanst family—much like the initial origins of Winter City.
However, the people of the Valen Empire were all about competition, especially in places like Winter City. A century ago, they were all about power struggles. That Royal War ruined countless peaceful lives but allowed the entire empire to grow stronger through the trials of war. The Central Workshop is a classic example of that.
But Silent Fortress was different.
Its history reached back even further than Winter City. Yet, the land of Silgaya was so fertile that its people were more skilled in farming and commerce than in fighting. The Alanst family built their wealth through trade and agriculture, loving peace and harmony. Over the course of centuries, they turned into a colossal castle family, known as the “granary” of the southern region, holding a significant position in all of Silgaya.
But because of this, after gaining wealth, Silent Fortress didn’t harbor any further desires or ambitions; its development eventually plateaued at the scale of a “fortress” rather than turning into Silent City, so there wasn’t a unique church district.
The church wouldn’t expend large amounts of manpower and resources constructing cathedrals or similar buildings in the fortress. Strictly speaking, the area I was in didn’t even qualify as a church district; it only had a quaint little church that wasn’t all that old but probably had some age to it. The street where the church was located should have mainly housed farmers and blacksmiths—laborers hired by the Alanst family.
Of course, those living in the castle must have had some standing.
But without floods or the church stirring things up, there wouldn’t even be many clergy members in the fortress.
So, even though I’d never been here before, I could easily spot that little church, which might seem inconspicuous in a larger city but stood out conspicuously here among the low buildings.
Not just because the church was small, but it looked quite lavish compared to the surrounding stone houses.
Before the pitch-black, almost completely open doorway, many corpses appeared entirely different from the earlier ones. They seemed to be fleeing in panic, dying suddenly along the way, frozen in bizarre, stiff postures; they came into view the moment I fell from the air.
Desperately running, crumpled on the ground, extending a hand as if pleading for a thread of hope from the distant sky—these terrified, desperate, and grimacing corpses were scattered from the church entrance all the way to the ends of the street on both sides.
But I couldn’t discern their identities any longer.
Unlike the previous “dried corpses,” these people had been burned to d*ath; their bodies were charred, singed to d*ath in an instant by intense heat—they probably didn’t feel much pain, retaining their final postures from life as they died.
“Hey…”
Suddenly, the Sword Demon Miss tapped my arm, pointing toward the side door of the little church, toward the street behind it. “Look over there.”
“… I see it.”
Of course, I had already seen it.
At the side door of the small church, there were a dozen or so Horned Horses tied to line of beast stakes. Most were bowing their heads quietly, probably munching on the moss and long-neglected weeds on the ground.
Those…
Were the Horned Horses of the Second Knights Order that had come here earlier.
