Western Rosean Diocese.
Yellow Cedar City was situated east of the Pale Rock Mountains, named after the brass-colored cedars scattered throughout the city. Built upon a natural pass, the city was surrounded by walls constructed from faded sandstone.
Located on the leeward slope of the mountains, the city was perpetually shrouded in a grayish-yellow mist.
The streets within the city were narrow, rugged, and sparsely decorated. The only building that could be considered magnificent was the castle of the Gauler family.
A gloomy stone fortress built on a cliff, overlooking the entire city.
Ever since the ancestral count obtained the title and was granted this place as a fiefdom, over five hundred years had passed. During this time, the Gauler family had ruled here for generations.
"...But that ends today."
Someone stood on the steps, looking down at the plaza littered with corpses.
He was tall and wore a half-armor battle tunic, his cape embroidered with the pattern of a blade and a cross of flames.
The long plumes on his helmet fluttered like banners, beneath which spilled a few locks of deep red curly hair, resembling burning threads of fire.
He gazed at the broken armor and dead bodies.
The private soldiers raised by the Gauler family.
Unlike the city defense garrison loyal to the empire, these men only obeyed the orders of the count and their relatives.
They were not many in number, but they were all elites; even the weakest among them was a second-tier warrior.
These people could slaughter villages and towns as easily as chopping melons and vegetables—and they had indeed done such things before.
But when it came to fighting the Holy Knights of the Church, they were completely outmatched.
This brief slaughter ended before dawn, lasting only a little over ten minutes from start to finish.
The fountain overflowed with dark red blood, and torn fragments of banners embroidered with the family crest floated within it. The stench of blood permeated the air.
Bodies lay haphazardly, paving the way from the plaza garden all the way to the front doors of the main building. Their limbs were twisted, their faces frozen in the terror and shock of their final moments.
A few servants trembled as they moved the corpses. Iron hooks dragged across the ground, emitting a teeth-setting scraping sound. Occasionally, crows swooped down to peck at the wet bloodstains.
Around the fountain in the center of the plaza lay piles of incriminating evidence searched from the castle: chests of account books and contract scrolls, along with various contraband magical materials. Colorful bottles and jars were stacked together, alongside faintly glowing ores of different colors. Powders made from the organs and branches of magical beasts and plants were contained in special vessels; some were labeled, some were not, but judging by their quality, they were all extremely valuable.
The hard-earned savings of a magician over several years could barely buy one or two of these items.
To ordinary people, this figure was an unimaginable astronomical price.
The origins of some materials were restricted solely to the Southern Continent, specifically in areas controlled by the Secret Cult of Eternal Night. It was nearly impossible for mages in the Northern Continent to obtain them.
While substitutes could be found for some, others were entirely unique, driving mages to spend exorbitant sums and even violate the Church's bans to get their hands on them.
"...Quite the knack for making money, isn't it?"
The red-haired man in military attire strolled leisurely to the entrance of the main keep. Beside a collapsed pillar, a man and a woman lay on the ground, their bodies already cold.
Both were mages. Their gorgeous robes were torn, and the gemstones at the top of their staves were shattered.
Lying next to them were a few more corpses, all warriors of a rather high tier.
These people were all the count's guards.
"My Lord."
A Holy Knight approached briskly and handed over a long scroll listing various crimes in a clear and organized manner.
The red-haired man took it and glanced at it. "Organize this and post a notice outside. Write it plainly. Don't use those complicatedly spelled words that ordinary people can't understand."
He casually tossed the scroll back. "Looking at this place, the vocabulary of most locals should be quite limited."
"You are right," another Holy Knight nodded. "The price of books here is extremely high, and there are few schools."
"Tsk, how exactly do you play the lord, Lord Count—"
The red-haired man turned to look at the castle entrance.
A person was kneeling on the ground, hair disheveled, face drained of blood, looking somewhat defeated.
Her limbs were bound by golden shackles of light, her wrists and ankles pierced by arrows of light. The hem of her heavy dark purple dress was torn, with patches of blood congealed among the lace patterns.
"Oh, I forgot. Starting from your father and grandmother, your family has always loved doing this sort of dirty work."
The red-haired man curled his lips into a smile. "Only, you are far greedier than they were."
"Hah," the person let out a breathless laugh. "Save the nonsense, Your Excellencies. This was a trap from the very beginning, wasn't it?"
Without waiting for an answer, she continued on her own: "My youngest son died by your hands because you discovered the brand on him—"
The Holy Knights remained silent.
The red-haired man kept looking at her with a smiling expression, neither denying nor admitting it, which seemed like a tacit acknowledgment.
"If I'm not mistaken, the identities of Your Excellencies are by no means ordinary Holy Knight Captains—"
The count suddenly raised her head and stared at him, then looked at the other two Holy Knights. "So, could you at least let me die knowing the truth? Who exactly betrayed me?"
She was certain there was a traitor by her side; otherwise, why would the Church suddenly investigate their family?
They had indeed done many things that violated the Church's bans, but they had also covered their tracks accordingly. An ordinary inspection would absolutely not have found any clues.
The Church must have grasped certain information and put great effort into digging up the truth.
"...Lord Count," the red-haired man said in an amused tone, "In the territory under your jurisdiction, seventeen towns and fifty-eight villages have reported missing persons cases, with the number of victims exceeding three digits. Oh, even though this happened over the course of the past twenty years or so, your collusion with pagans and your indulgence of false god worshippers using commoners as sacrifices for their rituals on your land is just too rampant. Honestly, your grandmother and father at least only handed over criminals to them. You made it so obvious, did you really think no one would know?"
Among the crimes listed on the scroll, this one was the most severe.
The Secret Cult of Eternal Night worshipped the God of Darkness and also paid tribute to the Seven Gods of Sin under his command, but these seven also had their own respective organizations of believers.
The worshippers of the God of Envy had formed numerous sects. Among them, one named the Shattered Face was the largest in scale, as well as the most fanatical and extreme.
They firmly believed that only by destroying the beauty of the world could they please their divine lord—it was said that when he was human, he had bludgeoned his own brother to death out of jealousy over his appearance.
This group of believers wandered through remote villages and artistic city-states, carrying out bloody sacrifices in the name of purifying vanity.
In the Southern Continent, they would even infiltrate royal courts, but in the Northern Continent, they only dared to operate in isolated places.
They selected beautiful young people, mostly males. These individuals were treated as sacrifices, and most would die agonizing deaths during the rituals.
The count frowned and stared at him. "Someone must have tipped you off."
The red-haired man slightly raised his eyebrows. "It's just that your subordinates were too arrogant. It was merely that someone killed your son, yet your family's retainers insisted it was the work of heretics. Who brings up heretics all day long? Unless you frequently associate with heretics."
He paused for a moment. Furthermore, with the instructions from the God's Favored, in that situation, her words were almost equivalent to a divine decree. We naturally had to take it seriously. Otherwise, a character like you truly wouldn't be worth me making a trip in person.
The countess looked at him and suddenly burst into loud laughter. Hahahahaha, you finally told the truth!
Her beautiful face quickly contorted into a hideous expression. In a place like Golden Amber City, it's not hard to find out the identity of the newly emerged God's Favored. I will definitely kill this person—
She knew her son's temperament very well; he must have provoked someone he shouldn't have.
If he had killed some ordinary commoner, it would have been fine, but he just had to provoke a God's Favored and end up dying by their hands instead. Looking at it now, there were only a few suspects.
The countess suddenly clenched her fists.
Beneath her torn sleeves, a purple poisonous mist began to coil around her forearms.
The golden chains of light binding her abruptly shattered, turning into motes of light drifting through the sky.
The countess curled her fingers, making a strange hand sign, and the ground below violently cracked open.
Countless streams of viscous black liquid spewed out, condensing and gathering in the air to form a monster about four to five meters tall.
It stood tall amidst the ruins like a filthy altar. Several human skeletons were fused together, piecing out the silhouette of its entire body.
Ulnas and radiuses were stacked into twisted shoulder armor, and dozens of spines and ribs acted like coiled snakes, winding together to support its deformed upper body.
The bones were connected by various tumors and fleshy lumps, with livid purple blood vessels pulsating between the chunks of meat.
The monster's exterior was a layer of translucent, dark red membrane, like fascia exposed after being skinned, wrapping around the writhing black liquid inside.
The liquid seeped from the gaps in the bones, emitting a corrosive hiss as it dripped onto the ground, burning scorched black pits into the stone slabs.
...A demon?! No, that's not—
No! That is a Holy Bone Golem!
Embedded on the monster's head were several agonized human faces that constantly writhed. Sometimes they overlapped, cheeks fusing with cheeks, and sometimes they split apart, the sticky bone and flesh shattering and dripping blood.
The eyes above the head were two dark red blood orbs, containing inverted mirror-image prayers suspended within. Those originally sacred words squirmed like maggots.
Those human faces suddenly opened their mouths.
A terrifying oppressive force spread out in all directions. The holy knights who were just about to draw their swords all felt as if they had been hit by a heavy weight, and one by one, they couldn't hold on and collapsed to the ground.
First, they heard a cry.
Like an infant just arriving in the world, but the pitch was extremely elongated, as if a rusty iron wire was scraping from the eardrums deep into the marrow of the brain.
Then, the crying split into countless overlapping shrieks, like terrified neighing and desperate screams. All the sounds squeezed into the ear canals simultaneously, like a swarm of insects gnawing at the nerves inside their skulls.
The holy knights trembled on the ground, their pupils losing focus, their sanity completely collapsing, and blood flowing from their ears.
The air seemed to distort, like a rippling lake surface. Countless faces, either covered in scars or mangled with blood and flesh, emerged within the twisting ripples.
They were either stripped of their skin, had their bones sliced open, or were covered in scars. The muscles around their mouths spasmed, constantly letting out various bizarre shrieks.
The holy knights curled up, their minds filled with chaotic illusions.
Various dark and negative emotions burst open like insect eggs in their mental worlds, spilling out memories that did not belong to them.
They were blamed, demeaned, compared to others, and then consumed by jealousy and hatred, wanting to kill everyone who was better than them.
...
Only the red-haired man and his two subordinates nearby remained standing, but it seemed they were unable to move either.
The Holy Bone Golem.
It was made from the remains of the church's clerics, and thus had an extremely strong resistance to light-based powers. It was one of the dark summons that the vast majority of clerics were least willing to face.
The creation process of this thing was extremely complex. The initial technique originated from the Eternal Night Esoteric Cult, and later, the believer organizations of the subordinate gods of the God of Darkness successively received the teachings.
Its body was incredibly sturdy; it was said that magic below the eighth tier could not destroy it.
The countess clapped her hands and stood up. ...Kill them.
The golem beside her began to tremble. Those human faces let out a roar in unison, flinging out limbs pieced together from various leg bones, and lunged at the holy knights in front of it.
In the next second, a slender and lightweight rapier slashed across the air.
Dawn's light flowed like a golden river along the spine of the sword, the blade striking sparks against the air, dragging out a burning trail of light in the sky.
In the face of this overbearing power, the golem's tough body was as fragile as paper. The edge of the sword cut through the membrane without any resistance, tearing open the tumors and white bones.
The splattering bone fragments were like pale raindrops.
Pus and blood gushed out along with minced meat, forming a blood-colored mist.
The countess watched this scene in disbelief and immediately tried to cast a spell to escape.
A gust of sword wind suddenly struck, directly severing her legs and half of her right arm.
She screamed and fell into a pool of blood.
The rotation of the sword blade was like a wind vortex. The golem's twisted limb bones twitched continuously but could not break free from this fatal strangulation.
Like minced meat that had been smashed.
The powder of organs and festering flesh mixed into a dark red slurry.
When the rapier was withdrawn with a bloody arc, the monster had already been reduced to a puddle of bloody mud on the ground.
I was actually waiting for your backup plan all along. I didn't expect it to just be this. How truly disappointing.
The red-haired man flicked the bloodstains off the sword. The blade hummed endlessly, as if still savoring this swift slaughter.
I dared to tell you about the God's Favored because I was certain you couldn't escape.
He casually thrust the rapier back into the scabbard at his subordinate's waist.
Although it was indeed very noisy, the red-haired man rubbed his ear. By the way—
Evidently, he hadn't even used his own weapon to easily dispose of that horrifying monster. His tone was steady as he spoke, without the slightest hint of panting.
...I only took action to let them rest in peace. He lowered his eyes to look at the bloody water on the ground. As for you, Countess, you are not worthy.
The red-haired man lifted his leg, his combat boot picking up the severed arm on the ground. The purple veins on it gathered and intertwined, forming a broken half-mirror pattern.
The light had already extinguished, but the image remained on the blood-spattered skin.
Not even a God's Favored—
He crushed that piece of the arm under his foot, bone fragments and bloody mud oozing from beneath his boot. Kill her.
The holy knight beside him slowly drew his sword. Are we not sending her to the Inquisition?
No!
The countess roared, Kill me! Kill me right now!
An indescribable fear surfaced on her face. I absolutely will not go...
The red-haired man looked at her with interest. To the Inquisition? Actually, Qin Jing would definitely be happy to play with you. From what I know, he just got beaten up by someone, hahahahahaha—
He laughed a few times. Your family is truly interesting. Afraid that your little secrets would be discovered, you chose to stay far away from the empire's center of power, which resulted in you not even recognizing me. That's just too pathetic.
The two holy knights beside him looked at each other in dismay.
The Grand Inquisitor got beaten up?
The red-haired man ignored his subordinates' reactions and simply continued, "Your Excellency the Count, you have been dealing with the servants of the Shattered Face for a long time. Working so hard for over twenty years just to make a bit of money... that is far too much of a loss."
"Wait, is she really not a Favored?" another holy knight asked. "Then how did she summon the golem? Didn't they say this form of summoning is only for—"
The red-haired man shook his head slightly. "No, or perhaps she could be considered a candidate. There are selection rituals among the followers of the God of Envy. Those who pass have a chance to gain an audience. If they only pass a portion of the trials, they can still gain some power, though it is meaningless. Hmph, at most, she is a heretical blessed one, and a rather inferior one at that."
After saying this, he turned and walked to the side.
The holy knight nodded, twirled the longsword in her hand, and looked at the Count lying in a pool of blood.
The latter was dragging her mangled legs, crawling on the ground.
The holy knight looked down at her. "How strange. You still want to seek revenge? You've killed so many people's children, yet you have the nerve to put on this kind of face? Are your children the only ones who count as human?"
The Count let out a weak sneer. "What do the lives of those peasants matter? You don't need to put on an act. Are you really carrying out justice? Even if you hadn't found evidence of these crimes, as long as I offended the Lord Favored, you would have fabricated some charges against me—"
"Then I'm curious," the holy knight also sneered. "How did you offend the Lord Favored? Because she killed your son, and you want to retaliate? Why did she kill your son? Oh, it turns out the young Count didn't even dare to accept a non-lethal duel, insisting on hiring someone to assassinate his competitor instead. Tsk tsk, a rotten tree really does bear rotten fruit..."
The holy knight beside her looked completely baffled. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Orders from His Eminence the Archbishop," the sword-wielding holy knight said casually. "Someone captured all the young Count's attendants and interrogated them. Guess what? The young Count wanted to hire someone to kill that Lord, all because of an ordinary entrance exam match. Judging from the test results, their magical prowess was about the same. To be too scared to even fight that—what a coward."
Saying this, she couldn't help but look at the Count again. "Oh right, we've already killed your eldest son. You had him escape through the secret tunnel, right? And I heard your youngest son died a very painful death. The divine punishment brought down by the Favored is—"
With a hoarse scream, the Count threw herself onto the knight's sword.
Her colleague beside her was exasperated. "Why do you talk so much nonsense? It's endless."
"I just can't stand this kind of aristocratic scum," the holy knight said, pulling out her sword and flicking off the blood. "You write the report."
"Why should I?" her colleague said speechlessly. "You're the one who killed her. Besides, most nobles are like this; they just don't have as much nerve."
"Who says? The lord of my hometown is great. She paid to build a primary school for us, letting us read and practice martial arts. Those with talent can even learn magic. During festivals, my brothers and I went to her house to help in the kitchen, and she even gave me little cakes to eat."
"...That kind is the minority. Also, I'm not writing the report. You write it."
"I already did the killing, shouldn't you do the writing? You want me to do everything, so what are you even here for?"
"Fuck," the colleague grabbed her arm. "I'm the one who led the men fighting all the way in here. I personally broke the defensive magic array on the main gate, and I'm the one who sent people to block the exit and catch the Count's eldest son. Now it's become me doing nothing? Let's go find the Legion Commander to judge—"
The two began to bicker and shove each other, then walked forward, pulling and pushing.
The red-haired man was standing a short distance away, observing the castle. Seeing them approaching, he quickly waved his hand.
"I don't care which of you writes the report," he silently took two steps back. "Don't ask me. I'm not the one who reads it anyway. I suggest you just throw something together. Zane never gives people a hard time over these things."
The surrounding air had long been filled with a heavy stench of rot and the metallic smell of blood, yet these people were completely accustomed to it, showing no urgency to leave.
The two holy knights exchanged glances. Realizing their immediate superior truly didn't want to deal with this, they dropped the subject.
"Your Excellency, Legion Commander!"
Someone ran over hastily from a distance, stopped a few steps down, and gave a quick salute to the other two. "Your Excellencies, Captains—"
"How is it?" the red-haired man asked casually. "Is everything handled?"
"Yes," the newcomer bowed his head. "Those in the temple who took bribes have all confessed."
Even though Yellow Fir City wasn't a strategic location and was somewhat impoverished, it was still a proper city, so naturally, there were personnel from the Holy Church's temple stationed there.
Count Gauler tolerated the followers of the God of Envy stirring up trouble, so naturally, she had also bribed the local temple's clerics—at least the ones in charge.
Of course, they didn't know the whole truth, otherwise, even with ten thousand times the courage, they wouldn't have dared to make a deal with her.
They merely thought she was trading with some heretical mages from the Southern Continent, reselling contraband magical materials at high prices.
And among the lords on the border, many had done such things before.
As for the villages and towns below, not every one had a church temple or stationed clerics, so many matters never reached the higher-ups at all.
"This is out of my jurisdiction," the red-haired man shook his head. "Send them directly to the Inquisition. I won't handle it, to save the Grand Inquisitor from making snide remarks again, thinking the two of us are plotting some conspiracy..."
The others all kept their eyes down and focused inward, pretending they hadn't heard a word.
After the messenger cleric left, the two captains looked at each other, both winking and signaling for the other to speak first.
"...I'm still here, you know," the red-haired man gave them a look. "Or should I pretend I've gone blind?"
"Ahem, can I ask another question?" one of them couldn't help but say. "Did you just say someone beat up the Grand Inquisitor?"
"Yeah."
The man casually took off his helmet, revealing flame-like dark red curly hair, and a pair of long, pointed ears covered in reddish-brown short fur sticking up from the top of his head.
He reached up and stroked his ears, and the pair of animal ears twitched in the wind.
"A very interesting young lady."
