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The Necromancer's Servant

Under the sky of history, whether you love or not, you are merely a speck of dust. No matter who you are, what you can grasp is only yourself.

Firebird57 · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
115 Chs

Chapter 9: The Stolen Goods

That night, Asa was awakened by the stench of blood emanating from his own body.

He had already taken a shower and changed his clothes. But as he lay in bed, gradually slipping into a hazy half-sleep, he was suddenly reminded of the strong scent of blood that had lingered at the tip of his nose during the day. The sounds of cracking bones and tearing flesh echoed in his mind, along with the dying screams of the big-eared monsters. A wave of sensations surged through his hand, the feeling of the knife cutting into flesh mixed with the scent of blood flooding into my mind.

During the life-and-death struggle, this feeling had once plunged him into a primal, wild exhilaration—I don't want to die, so I will make you die. But once he returned to this peaceful environment, lying in the best inn in Bracada on the most comfortable bed, especially after having a finely prepared meal and a nice conversation with others, he could truly feel he was still a human being. This wild memory only made him nauseous. The sensations of humanity and beast could not blend harmoniously within his body; their mutual clash and repulsion left him feeling like he might vomit.

Asa stepped out of his room and into the inn's backyard, intending to breathe in some fresh air to clear his head.

The lights and noise from the tavern continued in the distance. In the backyard, dry air swept in from the west. Asa felt the breath of the frontier plateau and his mind began to clear. He let out a comfortable sigh. But then, suddenly, a sound of retching reached his ears.

Not far ahead, a man was bent over, one hand pressed against the wall while the other clutched his chest, burying his head as he vomited. He was heaving forcefully, as if trying to expel everything from his body; even when nothing was left to bring up, he continued to dry heave, tears and snot mingling at the corners of his mouth and dripping down.

Finally, he seemed to exhaust his last bit of strength and unsteadily stood up. The tavern's light cast a dark red hue on his face, and his haggard appearance made his once-strong masculinity look quite pathetic. Asa recognized him as Rodhart.

Rodhart also saw Asa. He splashed some water from a nearby trough onto his face and wiped it with his sleeve, appearing to regain a bit of his spirit.

"Is this your first time killing?" Asa asked. He knew that many warriors experienced this after their first kill. He felt uncomfortable himself, but better than Rodhart. "Strictly speaking, they aren't really considered human."

Rodhart took a breath and shook his head. "I've never even killed a chicken before." Today, he had personally killed at least a dozen big-eared monsters. After a moment of silence, he continued, "I grew up listening to tales of heroes battling on the battlefield, always longing for that scene of gallant warfare and the clash of blades. When I was at knight school, learning swordsmanship and how to fight, I always imagined stabbing my enemies, taking the head of their general with one strike. For many years, these were just abstract concepts in my mind, and I had grown used to treating 'killing' as merely a word. Today, I finally did it myself, but…" His face turned pale. "Not to mention enemies; just thinking that the big-eared monsters could speak human language—that in many places they live alongside humans—makes them half-human, right? I didn't pay attention in the heat of the moment, but after returning, I couldn't sleep at all. I keep vividly recalling the moment my sword pierced in, the blood spurting out, and the feeling of that thing in my hand that could talk just like me…" He displayed a pained expression, as if he were about to vomit again.

"Killing is not a simple matter," Asa said, stepping closer and patting his shoulder. "You'll get used to it. And you have to get used to it if you don't want to be killed." Unbeknownst to him, he echoed words that had once been said to him.

"Thank you for your guidance," Rodhart's serious tone made Asa uncomfortable.

"I used to imagine concepts like justice, heroism, and battle. But in reality, I found that these are just things glorified through stories. I naively believed in justice and principles, but ended up harming my own people. I thought I would be a heroic fighter, but I've learned that killing is very hard for me." He looked sincerely at Asa. "From you, I learned what attitude should be taken in reality. You saved me and my fellow villagers, and your handling of today's situation resolved what I thought was a dire predicament. I really admire you; you are the true hero in reality."

Asa felt the tavern's light was too bright, making his face feel hot. He wanted to say something humble but realized there was really nothing to be humble about, so he simply said, "Actually… I'm just doing what I want to do." He suddenly remembered the outgoing dwarves he often saw in Kalendor when interacting with others, so he imitated their manner and tone, extending his hand. "No need for more words; if you don't mind, let's be friends."

Rodhart was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. He also reached out and shook Asa's hand.

"Can you do me a favor?" Asa asked.

"Anything, even going through fire and water," Rodhart replied.

The next day, Asa had Rodhart escort Christine back to the capital. He stayed in Bracada because there were still important matters to attend to.

But the key question was how to proceed, and that was giving him a headache. Should he charge into the orc's fortress alone to retrieve the book? He still vividly remembered how those orcs had slaughtered his entire team on the mountain half a year ago. The difference between ogres and werewolves and big-eared monsters was like that between lions and mangy dogs. If he really went in recklessly, even a hundred lives wouldn't be enough.

After racking his brains for ideas, Asa thought of Lord Borugan. That guy seemed to have some clever ideas in his big head, so he decided to seek his help. However, he couldn't reveal the true circumstances, so Asa presented the appointment letter given to him by the bishop, stating that the book was an important scripture of the church and needed to be retrieved.

Unlike officials in other places, the church's name seemed to hold no sway over Lord Borugan, who was a pragmatist. This was evident from the city's environment, where there was only one rough little chapel like those inns. Some priests even had to stay in various inns, listening to the ruckus from prostitutes and drunks while fulfilling their sacred duties.

Nevertheless, Lord Borugan still tried his best to assist Asa because he himself was quite concerned about the news regarding the orc city-state. They had captured several big-eared monsters, but their secret interrogations yielded no valuable intelligence. These ordinary big-eared monsters didn't know much about the orc city-state. It seemed that only the leaders of the big-eared monster clans were aware of this, and they indeed planned to loot and then go there to hide from the human armies' pursuit. The looted goods had already been gathered and sent there secretly.

After the interrogations were completed, Asa returned to the office in the city hall. Lord Borugan walked back and forth, furrowing his brows. His broom-like eyebrows towered above his seemingly always angry eyes, making his troubled thoughts appear grotesque.

"It seems the absurd rumors about the orc city-state are indeed true. Since such an absurd thing can become reality, we might as well boldly use the information we currently have to reason and imagine a bit more, perhaps we can see the overall situation more clearly," he suddenly looked up and asked Asa, "What do you think they are robbing money for?"

"Of course to use them to buy stuff" Asa replied, feeling this was a pointless question.

"Exactly! They're going to use the money" Lord Borugan praised Asa's trivial answer highly. "Before we confirmed this news, we hadn't thought deeply about it. We just habitually assumed that their purpose in robbing was the same as that of other bandits—wealth. But we forgot that this is likely the last few robs they will do before escape from human society. They no longer dare to reappear in the Empire. The only reason they are still interested in wealth is… that the orc city-state also circulates goods using gold and silver coins, just like our human society. Furthermore, it suggests that the city-state they are building is not merely a den of wild beasts, but rather an orderly community similar to ours."

"Most people are too accustomed to viewing orcs as mindless beasts. However, in many respects, they are also a reasonably intelligent race; it's just that their cultural form is different, leading to such misconceptions. Thus, while the establishment of an orderly city-state may sound absurd, it is entirely possible."

Asa nodded; he believed that was true. He had seen several different orc races equipped with quite advanced weapons and armor. They couldn't have made those themselves; they must have traded with humans who had the ability to manufacture them. This indicated that at least six months ago, this plan had already been in the works. A plan so vast that it could completely evade the Empire's attention…

No, it hadn't completely evaded attention; at least he and the duke were aware. The duke had mentioned it was a military secret and that the Empire was already handling it, warning against revealing it to others lightly. But now, looking at the situation, it was evident that it wouldn't have been the result of the Empire's handling… A strange, vague doubt slowly rose in his heart, but it immediately clashed with the good impression the duke had left him. This conflict left him feeling restless and anxious, making him unconsciously stop thinking further. He looked at Lord Borugan and asked, "If that's the case, what then?"

Lord Borugan spread his hands, shook his head, and sighed. "That would be good for you, but terrible for me. For me—no, for the entire Bracada—if a new orc nation suddenly appears to our west, the first thing affected would be trade with western nations, and this city's economic lifeline would collapse completely. What's worse, if the Empire goes to war with this orc nation, this city will be reduced to just a military base." Lord Borugan revealed a fierce, pained expression.

"It would be much easier for you. I believe the orcs have no interest in church scriptures; as long as you find their channels for selling stolen goods, you can probably buy that book back with a few gold coins."

Asa nodded, realizing that the thoughts in the large, inflated pumpkin of a head in front of him were indeed substantial. He sighed; if the matter could be resolved with just a few gold coins, that would be best. He asked, "Where do I find those channels?"

"Of course, you'll have to find them yourself. The thieves caught recently might have some clues. Among the criminals, there are smart people who will surely think of selling stolen goods."