Azure Scepter

Page 185

The servants, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, hurriedly prepared to leave.

Trier immediately shook his head: "Just say what you want to say to my face. There's nothing to hide."

“Your Grace!” Count Bortard sighed, then said directly, “I surrender. Do with me as you see fit.”

"Do you think surrendering will be useful?" Trier's smile gradually faded, and he asked slowly.

“Surrender may be useless, but not surrendering will certainly mean certain death.” Count Bortard smiled bitterly. “By the Radiance above, I know very well that I have no possibility of resisting you. I am already grateful to have lived until now. Even if you want to kill me now, I dare not and cannot resist.”

Although Count Bortard's words were very humble, Trier felt as if he had punched a cotton ball—the other party was testing his motives for speaking.

"You seem to have a very open-minded attitude," the time traveler said with a forced smile.

“I might still be of some use to you,” Count Bortard suddenly said, his words quickening. “Your Excellency Trier, let’s be frank. You need faith, and faith is inseparable from rebuilding the church, and I happen to be an expert in organization.”

At that moment, a gasp suddenly came from the crowd.

The shadowy figure in the artificial lake suddenly magnified, and the surging water suddenly burst outward. Amidst the shimmering spray, the streamlined body of the jumping shark suddenly leaped out of the water, its sharp, knife-like teeth snapping at the prisoner.

The prisoner rolled to the side in a sorry state, narrowly escaping a fatal attack, but the driftwood he was standing on had already been torn to shreds by the shark's teeth!

“It may be offensive to say this, but most of your vassals lack administrative talent. They may be good at killing and fighting, but they are really bad at this.” Count Bortard spread his hands, then pointed to his chest. “Under the leadership of Bishop Vercingetorius, our church was full of Silent Whisperers, but fortunately they are all dead now. Unfortunately, this also means a further shortage of administrative staff.”

The prisoner stood up and leaped towards another piece of driftwood. The instant he landed, the shark's tail slammed into the driftwood like a hammer, shattering it and sending flying splinters piercing the prisoner's calf.

Crimson blood spread through the water.

Count Bortard sniffed excitedly: "And I am the one who can solve this problem for you—you don't need to worry about my loyalty. I may have misjudged you before, but I am by no means crazy. No rational person would dare to oppose the only saint who walks on the prime material plane. Besides, I am able to become a lord now because of you—if you hadn't killed all the people ahead of me back then, and I hadn't happened to go out for a while, I certainly wouldn't have been able to succeed to the throne."

Trier remained unmoved and continued to press, "What you can do is not important—some things are more useful when they disappear than when they exist."

“If you really wanted to get rid of me, you could have done so long ago. I would have had no way to retaliate, but you haven’t done so.” Count Bortard smiled, a smile that revealed an air of certainty that victory was assured.

Stimulated by the smell of blood, the jumping shark's movements became even more powerful. It suddenly dived into the water, transforming back into a swimming black shadow, brewing its final attack amidst the gurgling bubbles.

Trier looked at Count Bortard with icy eyes and smiled sinisterly, "Since you know what I've done in the past, why don't you guess whether I want live experimental subjects?"

The swingtooth shark leaped out of the water again, but this time the prisoner did not run away. He roared, stood up abruptly, lowered his shoulder and pulled back his elbow, and lashed the chain at the leaping swingtooth shark.

With a crisp cracking sound, the agile swingtooth shark was paralyzed by a single blow.

In an instant, Count Bortard's slightly clouded eyes cleared, his pupils suddenly contracted, and amidst the cheers of the crowd, he even lost his footing, as if a spear had pierced his chest, or as if he had become a robin's egg teetering in a gale.

—Although intellectually Count Bortard knew that Trier was bluffing him, emotionally he had indeed witnessed the horrific tortures suffered by the vampires captured by Trier. The desecration of those tortures was beyond description, and even the fleeting memories made his brain ache.

“You’ve given me a good reminder, dear Count Bortard,” Trier said softly. “Some experiments require gathering an entire bloodline.”

The prisoner roared as he grabbed the swinging shark by the tail, bent down and dragged it onto the driftwood. His face was contorted with rage as he held the iron chain high.

The dazzling lights reflected the arc of the iron chain, and the next moment, a heavy blow was delivered!

The cheers of the crowd suddenly erupted, the cacophony of voices drowning out everything else.

Trier glanced at the azure blue information that flashed past the corner of his eye.

—[The intimidation was a huge success!]

In a sense, Count Bortard was indeed a man of strong will. Even though he was nearly driven mad with fear, his tone remained calm: "If this is your will, then I can only accept it. But please give me some time to make arrangements for my affairs."

“Don’t be nervous, I was just joking,” Trier said deliberately. “It’s a holiday today, after all.”

He knew very well that these seemingly clumsy attempts to pull back the other person's defenses would only further stimulate their imagination and sense of fear.

Now, even Count Bortard's expression faltered. He forced a smile and said, "Your Grace, I hope you enjoy your stay. I have some matters to attend to now..."

Suddenly, Trier uttered the name of a hell lord at lightning speed.

“What?” Count Bortard was clearly taken aback, and he frowned in confusion.

“It’s nothing, you can go now, my dear friend,” Trier said. “I will consider your offer carefully.”

Count Bortard hurriedly left, while Trier stared intently at his retreating figure.

Although the other person's words and actions seemed quite normal and reasonable on the surface, with no signs of madness, for some reason, Trier vaguely felt that something was wrong. The other person seemed to be shrouded in a shadow, making him somewhat unpredictable.

"Anything else planned?" Trier shook his head, then looked at the master of ceremonies beside him.

The master of ceremonies wiped away his cold sweat, then said as if crying, "Grilled shark, Your Highness. The sauce for this dish was made by the court chef of the Kingdom of Vione. If you wish, I can have a servant deliver it to your room."

Chapter 351 The Song

The moonlight was deep, the fog was thickening, and although the festive revelry in the courtyard was not yet over, it was already drawing to a close, with the voices and lights gradually thinning out.

Under Count Bortard's arrangement, Trier and his party found lodging in a stone tower specifically for entertaining guests. Seemingly to show that he had no hostile intentions, Count Bortard arranged for the group to stay in the same room, and then withdrew all the soldiers who were openly on duty near the stone tower.

“If you need anything, just ring the bell in the corridor,” Count Bortard said with a humble bow. “Your loyal and humble vassal is ready to serve you.”

Less than two hours had passed since Trier had threatened the other party, and Count Bortard seemed to have regained his composure; at least he was no longer trembling.

“You have a good mentality,” Trier laughed. “I hope you don’t take that joke seriously.”

“I wouldn’t dare say that,” Count Bortard said, head bowed. “If you have no other requests, please allow me to attend to some other matters. I have just received important news…”

Trier knew perfectly well that the important message they were referring to was a warning from vampire businessman Somerset, so he nodded slightly.

Count Bortard felt as if he had been granted a pardon. His tense body relaxed slightly, and after a moment, he left the corridor filled with portraits of the Counts of Bortard throughout the ages without saying a word.

After the other party had completely left the stone tower, Edith couldn't help but complain, "So where did that grand finale, grilled shark, go? Didn't the master of ceremonies say it would be delivered to the room later?"

In the end, Edith did not get the grilled shark he had been longing for. After all, the atmosphere of the strange conversation between Trier and Count Bortard was quite explicit, and the Master of Ceremonies dared not provoke them.

When it was three o'clock in the morning, Trier received a message from his collaborator as planned—someone in the courtyard was playing a rare flute solo celebrating the Great Hunting Day.

As agreed, this piano music signifies a major unexpected event in the original plan, requiring an emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures.

Although the plan went wrong, Trier did not feel frustrated. After all, it is normal for plans to encounter unexpected situations. When unexpected situations arise, the solution is to deal with them.

Trier left an afterimage in the room, then cast a "Greater Invisibility" spell on himself before leaving the room and walking into the woods next to the stone tower.

The woods were utterly silent. The cool moonlight streamed down like water onto the dense foliage, casting dappled shadows from the fallen leaves, creating a dark and eerie atmosphere, like ghosts lurking in a graveyard. After a few breaths, the light and shadow seemed to shift slightly, and then a figure with pointed ears silently emerged from the darkness beneath the fir trees, like a moving shadow.

"The person who was supposed to warn Boltard has been arrested," said vampire industrialist Somerther Pale Elegy in a deep voice.

As she spoke, she lit the candlestick in her hand, and the flickering orange light immediately illuminated her face. She wore a light-colored veil, and her pointed ears indicated that she had elven blood—she was a half-elf, or rather, a half-human.

“Didn’t we have a contingency plan?” Trier dispelled his advanced invisibility spell and then asked, “This probably isn’t a major accident.”

“I suspect that the arrested warden may have discovered some extremely important clue.” The vampire industrialist paused for a moment. “According to Count Bortard’s usual practice, he would throw prisoners into the dungeons beneath the castle, but this time was different—I tried to rescue the warden, but I couldn’t even find the dungeon where he was imprisoned. I thought he had been secretly executed, but today I saw him at the Shark Show.”

Trier frowned slightly: "You mean, the prisoner who fought the swingtooth shark was the original warden? In other words, Count Bortard hid the warden and then made him fight the shark to the death?"

“Yes, that’s really strange, and the prisoner disappeared again after killing the shark.” The vampire businessman nodded. “There might be something behind this that could affect our operations.”

“It might be related to the devil.” Trier pondered for a moment, then reminded him, “I saw many signs on the road that only appear when one is corrupted by the devil, but I think it’s best not to cause any unnecessary trouble and to proceed according to the original plan.”

"Alright." The vampire businessman stopped arguing and then transformed back into a flowing shadow, merging into the changing moonlight and tree shadows.

When Trier returned to the stone tower, he saw Feudia in the shadow cast by the solemn portrait. Her expression was even more serious than the portrait itself. She was pursing her lips and seemed somewhat unsettled.

"Why are you standing here?" Trier asked curiously.

Since Trill hadn't dispelled the Advanced Invisibility spell, Fythia was startled. Her pointed ears perked up, and she instinctively took two steps back. A moment later, she let out a long sigh of relief.

"That's terrifying!" Futia couldn't help but say.

Trier dispelled the advanced invisibility spell: "So what happened?"

“I heard singing.” Futia’s expression was complicated. “It was my sister’s singing.”

“Your sister?” Trier exclaimed in surprise.

To be fair, he had a very strong impression of Fydia's sister, after all, he was almost killed by the ghoul that Fydia's sister had transformed into...

In some ways, Feudia's sister was more dangerous than Losevie, after all, that was the closest he ever came to a sudden death.

“This is not my imagination, Edith heard it too,” Futia said. “She was singing ‘Lerena by the Silver Lake,’ and the source of the song is on the other side of the lake.”

This sounds too suspicious, Trier thought.

“I know this sounds suspicious, but Trier, could you come with me to see... even just for a glimpse?” Fythia pursed her lips and then pleaded, “I really want to see my sister again, even if it’s just a phantom.”

Trier nodded, then gathered the others and cast a "mass invisibility" spell on everyone. The fully armed group then headed towards the artificial lake in the courtyard.

To be fair, Trier and his party were strong enough to sweep through the entire Bortard County, so Trier was not worried about being ambushed.

When the group crossed the deserted bridge and arrived at the other side of the lake where it led to the river, Trier was astonished to see a strange sight.

At some point, the river's water level had dropped enough to expose the riverbed. On the exposed dark brown riverbed, a huge crack several people wide was clearly visible. Looking into the crack, one could vaguely see steps covered in silt and a stone door locked with a huge mithril lock.

Moonlight shone on the stone door, and the intricate and delicate reliefs cut uneven shadows from the cool silver light. Within these shadows, a melancholic and ethereal song could be faintly heard leaking from the cracks in the door.

Listening to the song, Trier couldn't help but think of a nightingale singing in the thorn bushes under the moonlight.

"Listen!" Futia exclaimed urgently, her voice brimming with barely concealed excitement. "Can you hear that? That's my sister's singing!"

"This is...unbelievable!" Edith exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Why would there be a hidden door underwater? Uh, but come to think of it, how do you open this door—just smash it open?"

“Of course, we’ll use magic,” Trier couldn’t help but say, then pointed and cast a “lock-picking” spell on the giant mithril.

"Click." The massive and intricate mithril chains instantly disengaged, and then, under the influence of magic, the mithril silently fell onto the riverbed.

One of the accompanying knights wanted to scout ahead, but Futia impatiently jumped down the steps and punched open the heavy stone door. Perhaps due to her haste, her punch created a spiderweb-like crater in the massive stone door...

“There’s airflow, you can go straight in.” As she spoke, Futia drew her short sword and then bent down and crawled inside.

Behind the stone gate lies a dark and deep tunnel. The tunnel is so low that one can only walk by bending over. Perhaps because it has been underwater for a long time, the tunnel floor is covered with a layer of slippery moss, and the air is filled with a fishy stench.

Objectively speaking, the tunnel wasn't long; the anxious Futia passed through it in less than a minute. However, subjectively, the dullness and darkness stretched time out like a dough being stretched out, though the beautiful singing did somewhat alleviate the dullness.

When Trier emerged from the narrow tunnel and arrived at a rather spacious hall, he immediately let out a long sigh of relief.

The stench in the air was gone, replaced by a faint fragrance of incense—a dozen incense burners were arranged along the edge of the hall, and at the far end of the hall, a semi-transparent spirit was softly chanting a rather beautiful elegy in the language of elves.

Although Fythia was extremely anxious, she did not act rashly. After everyone had entered the hall, she gently patted Trier.

Trier nodded, then dispelled the "Advanced Invisibility" spell on the group.

As a master spellcaster, Trill's "Advanced Invisibility" spell does not only conceal light and shadow, but also a series of other features that might attract attention, such as smell, sound, and heat. Therefore, when he removed the "Advanced Invisibility" spell, the Bound Spirit instantly became aware of everyone's presence.

The song of the spirit-binding stopped, and she slowly turned around like an actor taking her final bow.

A beautifully crafted shackle was fastened to her ankle. As she turned, the shackle, which was exceptionally light and covered with an elegant pale purple velvet, made a melodious sound like a silver bell.

Trier then noticed that one glaring scar after another covered the other's spirit body like thorns, and that a black ribbon was tied over her eyes, and that there was a visible sadness between her brows above the ribbon.

“Sister…” Faldia said softly in Elvish, her voice almost a murmur, “It really is you…”

She slowly reached out her hand, wanting to touch the other, but the spirit was as if she had been electrocuted, and immediately took two steps back until the chains were stretched to their limit and made a rattling sound before she stopped.

“Don’t touch me, I’ll hurt you,” Futia’s sister said in Common. “I’m a monster now, and even the slightest touch will take your lives… Please stay away from me, sister, that monster is coming back soon.”

—In gaming terms, any contact with a spirit will cause 1D2's constitution to decrease.

“But Noi is fine,” Futia retorted instinctively. “She also became a spirit-bound creature—wait, who is this monster you’re talking about?”

“Count Bortard, hurry up, there’s no time left. He is a powerful legend, just like our mother. We can’t possibly defeat him.”

Fydia almost laughed in anger: "If he dares to come in, then kill him."

“This is not the time to talk nonsense. He’s really coming back soon…” Fu Ling said anxiously. “Only by bringing Mother here can we have any hope of defeating him.”

"Absolutely not, after all, we have..."

"So it was Count Bortard who turned you into a spirit binder?" Trier interrupted immediately.

—Trill strongly suspects there's something wrong with this bound spirit.

Logically speaking, if Count Bortard had necrophilia, it would be impossible for him to discard the other person's body. Considering the old mage's past statements that Feudia's sister's body was already dehydrated and mummified when it was discovered, this seems even more suspicious.

While it's true that vampires turning their victims into mummies by drinking their blood, these mummies passively transform into lower-level vampire offspring, and cannot become ghouls of monk-like caliber...

"I...I don't know." The bound spirit's voice hesitated. "I don't know who turned me into a monster, but I was drained of my life force."

"What kind of monster? What kind of drainer?" Trier asked, his tone still unhurried.

“Of course, it’s the monster in my current hideous form,” the spirit said. “Please don’t waste any more time, hurry up and leave, or you will all die.”

"..." Futia fell silent, her fists clenching almost imperceptibly, her nails turning white from the force.

She realized that her sister was not answering Trier's question directly; in other words, the other sister was lying and trying to mislead her.

She suppressed her grief, took a deep breath, and then slowly took half a step back.

“Answer his question directly,” Futia said, closing her eyes and pursing her lips.

End of Chapter 352

"Sister, are you also doubting me?" The spirit's voice was low, and her pointed ears drooped. "I really can't answer his question directly because I'm under a magical curse, and I can't reveal any information about it—but I can only say that I have absolutely no ill intentions, so please leave quickly."