Chapter 142: No Matter What
“Cough, cough… spit.”
It felt like my mouth had just been stuffed with gravel.
And there’s bl**d on my face too…
I took a step back.
I pushed through the haze of dust that was slowly dissipating in my vision, adjusted my tattered cloak, and glanced down at the shadow of what I couldn’t tell if I had choked to d*ath or smashed to pieces—the person was definitely dead beyond the point of no return. The bones were a jigsaw puzzle of fractures, with a femur sticking out from the flesh like a weird meat flag, all slumped into a puddle of goo, with a grim d*ath mask and no breath left, bl**d oozing out from both mouth and chest like a leaky fountain…
But hey, the cloak on him was basically unharmed, just a little dirty.
That had to be the Choir of Saints’ cloak…
I took a few peeks before deftly yanking off my own shabby gray cloak that looked like it had survived a cat fight, making my way over to half-drag the corpse up. Before the bl**d could stain the cloak on his back, I quickly got the glossy black cloak off him and threw it over myself.
What a nice fabric…
It felt a lot like the Pope Knight’s cloak. I bet it has fireproof and heat insulation properties too!
As I thought about it, I realized the cloak was a bit long, so I hiked it up a bit, tore off a long strip of cloth to fashion a mask, covering my mouth and nose completely, leaving only my pitch-black eyes visible. A quick comb through my disheveled hair and a pull of the hood over my head, and I turned my attention away from the corpse, striding over to the edge of the balcony to take a peek down below.
…Chaos all around the fort.
There were loud noises, shadows flitting about, and a dim light from fires that couldn’t quite chase the city’s shadows away. Occasionally, distant sounds of fighting and screams reached my ears. Overhead, lightning danced as it chased a few fleeing golden shadows, and with a thunderous clap, someone fell from the sky with a blinding arc of light.
This was the fourth floor…
Annie had mentioned that Queen Victoria was residing somewhere on the third floor, and Father and Mother’s temporary quarters had to be just half a corridor away from her.
But judging by this situation…
The Black Fort was now firmly under the Church’s control.
I suddenly felt a wave of anxiety.
d*mn it…
Don’t let me be too late…
“Whew—”
After taking a deep breath, I pulled my hood closer and stepped around the corpse, quickly walking through the archway leading away from the balcony. Beyond the archway was a not-too-long marble staircase, and no one was guarding it – or maybe the guards had just met a swift end at my hands, as it was suspiciously quiet around.
Once I hit the bottom of the stairs, I’d officially be inside the castle. What greeted me was a round corridor on the fourth floor that led who knows where, bedecked with a red carpet. The walls were lit up brightly, revealing doors that led off to rooms, some ajar, some firmly shut, and there were flickering lights from inside some of them. I had no time to check if anyone was home.
I just needed to find the stairs and head down…
I had no idea who was in the fort right now, but they would soon react to the commotion outside. Even though the Sword Demon was grabbing most of the attention, it was only a matter of time before someone sharp figured out I was already here…
Father was probably long gone, or at the very least, out of the city by now… My biggest worry wasn’t him; no matter how tough the situation got, the Church couldn’t clean up Father’s end that efficiently in such a short time.
The Duke Skarlick of the Northern Region wasn’t easily dealt with, no matter what they said.
What worried me the most was Mother. Unlike Father, no matter how cunning she might be, at the end of the day, she was just a defenseless lady.
If Annie’s theories turned out to be true…
With the current mayhem outside the Black Fort, Mother could very well have missed her chance to escape and ended up right in the Church’s hands.
It wasn’t without that possibility…
d*mn it.
I had to find Viki as soon as possible and sort all of this out.
And right now, she was probably the only one who truly understood—
“Bam!” Just as I was lost in thought, a door not far in front of me suddenly flew open with a kick, and several people began pouring out.
“Everyone outside, line up against the wall!”
“Move it, move it!”
In the rough shouts, a well-dressed woman was pushed out from inside, cradling a two or three-year-old child in her arms. The kid looked terrified, too scared to speak, as behind her, a few Church Knights brandished torches, herding a group of what looked like nobles—men and women alike—down the corridor and making them stand at attention.
Oops…
Got a bit too lost in thought and missed the action.
“Captain of Knights, Captain of Knights! I’m Steward Traus, I’ve spoken to your Bishop…”
From the crowd, a plump middle-aged man tried to approach the commanding Knight, but was immediately shoved back: “Stand still, don’t move!”
“We don’t mean any harm; we were just ordered to thoroughly search the Black Fort tonight. Bear with us, I assure you it’ll be over quickly, and no one will get hurt… unless any of you has the audacity to harbor the leader of the Northern Region rebels.”
After the Knight Captain finished, he gestured to a companion: “Get the portrait.”
Another knight was just about to hand him a piece of parchment.
And at that moment, their eyes almost instinctively turned toward me, where I stood lurking in the shadows.
Time seemed to freeze for two seconds.
“…Sir?”
One of the subordinate knights involuntarily blurted before he could hand over the parchment, instinctively wanting to bow to me. The next moment, the Knight Captain suddenly shot a hand up to stop him, his eyes widening as he yelled, “No! He’s not a saint… Who are you—!”
Bam—
At the same time, I had already taken the Moon Step.
With a rush of wind, I vanished from my spot, appearing right in front of the startled Knight Captain. The gale blew out countless candles as he continued to stare in shock at where I had been standing, but my ice-clad fist, as solid as a rock, slammed into his face!
Kaboom!
“Ugh…”
That punch sent the Knight Captain spitting bl**d and teeth, his body spinning like a top for several meters before crashing against the wall, unconscious and possibly worse.
In the blink of an eye, the other knights barely had time to react. They were just people with slightly enhanced bodies, perhaps with a trickle of divine miracle; how could they keep up with my speed?
In a flash, I whirled around, unleashing a flurry of punches like I was swatting flies, “Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam,” knocking them about as they barely managed to draw their swords, crashing into walls and ceilings. My punches showed no mercy; in the blink of an eye, the knights were all down for the count.
“Invader…”
Huh?
After I finished my little show, I turned to see that one of them could still talk! It was the guy who had handed the parchment to the Knight Captain. He was now sprawled a few meters away, bleeding from his mouth and nose, struggling to crawl away: “Tarlasya… Sir… There… are… invaders…”
Not too shabby, huh…
Whoosh—
With a flick of my wrist, I launched two sharp ice shards that pierced through the knight’s armor, stabbing through his chest. He thrashed a bit, but then lay still.
But wait…
Did he just say Tarlasya?
That name sounds kinda familiar…
I walked over to the knight, bent down, and picked up the parchment still in his hand, unfolding it to see by the flickering firelight.
…It was a portrait of a woman.
A beautiful woman with black hair and black eyes.
She kind of looked like me.
And at the bottom of the portrait, I saw two lines of finely written text.
[Catherine Winter Moon, Leader of the Northern Rebels, Wife of Skarlij.]
[No Matter What.]
