Azure Scepter

Page 27

Fythia blinked in confusion: "What do you mean by luring them over?"

“Sacrifice,” Trier said succinctly, pointing to the road north of the Old Square. “We’ll have our first battle with the undead here, and then… retreat to the Old Square.”

The room suddenly fell silent. Trier looked around and found that everyone looked surprised.

After a moment, Harlan broke the silence: "Trier, given our current organizational capabilities, launching an attack is already a stretch, and an orderly retreat is simply impossible—it would only turn into a rout, and after the rout comes a massacre!"

“There is no need for an orderly retreat,” the paladin said calmly.

Harlan was stunned; he seemed not to understand.

Trier turned his head and saw that Neu's expression was complicated.

Without a doubt, she understood. The nun's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she said nothing.

"His idea is to select cannon fodder, send them to their deaths first, and then those who escape will naturally lead the undead to the predetermined location," the veteran explained after a long silence. "It's a classic tactic that the Earl often used when dealing with monsters from the Great Swamp."

Harlan said in a very soft voice, "But shouldn't we protect the weak? That's our duty!"

“We have at most two days left. Time is of the essence, and some sacrifices are necessary,” Trier explained softly as he approached Harlan.

"Our fighting strength is severely lacking. The sacrifice of any one of them would cause a serious shake-up in morale. We cannot abandon our comrades; this is a matter of principle." The knight's voice gradually became firm. He raised his head and met Trier's gaze with his remaining eye.

“Of course we won’t abandon our comrades, but there are still many untreated patients. This is their chance to receive treatment.” Trier didn’t look away. “Since they’re going to die anyway, we might as well give them a chance.”

The knight was struck dumb; his remaining eye twitched. "Radiance! You are a paladin! You are a paladin! We all swore to protect the weak..."

“Harlan, try to put yourself in their shoes. If it were you, would you rather rot away peacefully and wait to die, or would you rather take a gamble, even if the hope is slim? Which one truly protects them?” Trier’s tone slowed, and he extended his right hand, then clenched it tightly. “The opportunity to control your own destiny! That is the best protection!”

"I...I..." At this moment, Harlan felt a little dizzy. In a daze, he felt that the person standing in front of him was not a paladin, but a devil from hell.

He knew there was something wrong with the other person's explanation, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

“Harlan, you have always been the most devout.” Noy stood beside Trier at this moment and said righteously, “You must know that sacrifice is sacred and arrogance is wrong. We should not deprive them of their right to sacrifice.”

Sacrifice is a right? Harlan was dumbfounded.

He felt a slight wavering at that moment.

If the paladin uttered such bizarre words because he had just received revelation and did not fully understand the meaning of goodness, then the fact that the nun, who has always been recognized as the embodiment of goodness, said the same thing suggests that it is indeed something correct.

Harlan felt a profound contradiction and conflict at this moment; his simple and correct intuition and his long-held beliefs were strongly at odds.

"Radiance, what should I do..." The knight felt like he was going crazy.

“There are many such cases in history, where those who sacrificed themselves became angels; and more recently, Baron Horst…” Noy continued, her gentle words filled with determination.

At this moment, Faudia silently retreated to the corner. She now understood why Trier had chosen the secluded second floor as the meeting room location.

She turned her head and glanced at the dragon beside her. Olius was grinning from ear to ear.

She turned to look at the garrison captain—the veteran, who had always proclaimed himself to be cold-blooded, was now unconsciously cowering in a ball, looking like a frightened bird. The veteran unconsciously moved closer to Harlan, not daring to look at Trier.

“Radiance, forgive me!” After a long while, the knight said, his voice suddenly becoming extremely hoarse, as if he had just swallowed a razor blade. “Let’s do it this way, but please allow me to join those poor souls as well. I can protect them.”

“No, the follow-up plan desperately needs you, you can’t go,” Trier said. “Without courage and inspiration, they’re just throwing their lives away. With courage and inspiration, they can play their proper role—so I’m going to lead them.”

Harlan was stunned for the third time: "But..."

“No buts,” the paladin interrupted. “We’re going to discuss the arrangement of spells next…”

As a lich who had once come close to godhood, Trier had a unique understanding of magic. Therefore, he explained in a very short time the spells that the Silent Whisperers might prepare, and what spells should be prepared to counter them.

He specifically instructed Noy to prepare a large amount of energy resistance, while the High Ring Divine Art was only to prepare Majestic Posture. Trier's stated reason was that a dense formation was necessary when facing the sea of ​​undead, and once this formation was maintained, the Silent Whisperers would bombard them with evocation spells. Therefore, a large amount of energy resistance and energy absorption was required, while Majestic Posture was to be prepared to help those who mastered Cleave to quickly clear the undead.

But Trier's real idea was to use this method to deplete Noi's divine spell slots.

The nun didn't argue; she simply smiled and nodded obediently.

“Everyone, if there are no problems, then we can rest,” Trier said. “I hope everything goes well tomorrow.”

P.S.: One more chapter. Thank you all for your subscriptions, recommendations, requests for more updates, monthly tickets, and donations.

Chapter 50 Forward!

A crimson moon hung high in the deep blue night sky, its ethereal moonlight, tinged with red fluorescence, cascading silently onto the window like flowing water.

The room was pitch black, with moonlight and starlight as the only sources of light.

Fatiya lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, but countless thoughts surged in her mind like boiling water. She tossed and turned, but whether lying on her side or back, she could not overcome the burning anxiety in her heart.

She knew she was worrying about tomorrow. Although Trier had proven herself right countless times, the idea of ​​a few dozen people fighting against nearly a thousand undead was simply too far-fetched.

The young elf had always despised religion, but at this moment, she couldn't help but pick up the black ribbon from the bedside table, sit up, and silently pray: "Please bless me, Sage of the Setting Sun..."

She murmured it over and over again, while looking out the window at the crimson moon.

Under the same crimson moon, the devout Harlan also suffered from insomnia. But instead of praying to the radiance, he silently polished his armor and weapons.

The empty left eye socket kept surging with phantom pain, as if the eyeball was still there. He couldn't help but turn his left eye, but the severed nerve bundles only sent back pain.

"I swear to treat the weak kindly and to stand bravely against violence," the knight said to his armor.

The armor remained silent, but it seemed to be refuting itself: "Then, you pushed the weak to the front lines, you are the very embodiment of rape."

"I swear to fight against wrongdoing and to fight for the unarmed." He wiped the armor with even more force.

"In fact, quite the opposite." The armor seemed to be giving a silent laugh.

"I swear to treat my friends with sincerity..." The knight slumped down and threw down the brush, the brown wood clanging against the ground.

He suddenly realized that the knightly oath he had always strictly adhered to was self-contradictory.

"What exactly do I believe?" He looked anxiously out the window.

Olius hadn't slept in a long time. He craved sleep, but once he fell asleep, the nightmares of the past would seize him like a tidal wave, dragging him relentlessly into the abyss of death and fear.

The shadow cast by the crimson moon also carried a blood-red hue that made the dragon uneasy.

"Stop struggling, death is your only destination." A decaying female voice echoed in my mind, "You are a criminal, you must accept your punishment, accept your fate."

"No, no!" Olius clutched the scar on his head, struggling against the lich's daily, repetitive whispers.

The occasional sighs of the dead drifted in from outside the window, the sound like a stringy roundworm covered in brain matter, wriggling and crawling through its central nervous system; the stench of the dead in the air, along with intense nausea, surged into its esophagus, as if a long-tailed rat with rotting fur had crawled into its stomach, slowly swelling, perforating, and rotting inside; the tinnitus grew louder and louder, and a dizzying, overwhelming sensation of vertigo reveled in the piercing screams that overwhelmed everything.

The imagination began to hijack its vision, and it began to hallucinate.

The shimmering moonlight instantly transformed into a spiraling, spine-bound head; rotting pustules, like mushrooms, crawled across the room with the smoke, and porous, fluffy fungi slowly covered his palms. In the shadows, a figure, seemingly ancient and imposing yet withered, stood clad in a black hooded robe.

“You can’t escape. Giving up will bring you peace of mind,” the phantom of Lothaway said in a tone like that of a judge.

"I will live! I swear, I will never give up!" the dragon roared angrily, then turned its head sharply to look out the window.

“How pathetic.” The phantom let out a sinister laugh. “My time is eternal, yours is not.”

"Shut up!" Olius slammed his left claw against his scar, and the lich's whispers and illusions shattered like a mirror.

It was now drenched in sweat—this terrible tug-of-war had been going on for a long time, and the lich's influence on it was becoming increasingly severe.

"The moon is so beautiful, but how much longer can I look at it?" The dragon leaned weakly against the window and murmured to himself, "I hope the paladin didn't lie to me."

Trier sat on the bed, meditating quietly.

Now that the dice have been rolled, the time before they stop spinning is always the most unbearable. He knew all too well that the feeling of uncertainty, which he couldn't control, could crush the spirits of many weak-willed people.

The time traveler had always despised weakness and incompetence, so he did not feel uneasy, nor did he feel fear or regret. He simply rested efficiently according to the plan he had already devised.

"Games and reality are different. Sending them to their deaths is murder." A jumble of thoughts drifted through his mind like clouds, but were quickly dissolved by a long breath.

“Now that the decision has been made, there’s no point in dwelling on it. This is not the time for regrets; those should come later, or before I can convince Harlan,” he thought.

A few minutes later, he felt sleepy and immediately fell asleep.

But at that very moment—"Thump...thump...thump."

Suddenly, footsteps came from outside the door. The person making the footsteps seemed to be deliberately tiptoeing, but such faint sounds are always the most suspicious.

The paladin's nascent sleepiness was instantly shattered. He sat bolt upright, then quietly drew his longsword and holy emblem from under his pillow. Deliberately holding the sword in his left hand, he cautiously walked to the right side of the door, then slowly looked at the holy emblem in his hand.

The emblem did not glow.

"Knock, knock, knock." A few breaths later, a crisp knocking sound rang out, followed by the nun's gentle voice from outside the door, "I am Noy, and I think we need to talk."

Upon hearing the nun's voice, Trier's first thought was, "Noy has used up all her divine spell slots for today, so she's not much of a threat. Let's see what she's up to."

With this thought in mind, he hid on the right side of the door and gently pushed it open with the tip of his sword.

A refreshing scent wafted in, and Noi's fair face appeared like a ghost in the doorway. Under the moonlight, her pink lips looked especially alluring.

Seeing that the other party was not carrying weapons or wearing protective gear, Trier breathed a sigh of relief.

Without hesitation, the nun stepped inside, her shadow stretched long by the crimson moonlight. She gently closed the wooden door.

She looked up, blinked, then looked down again. She took a deep breath and, as if making a huge decision, said, "Let's leave here!"

“That’s impossible.” Trier stared intently into Noi’s crimson eyes. “You don’t need to fight tomorrow; you just need to provide divine magical support.”

“Of course I’m not saying this out of fear.” The nun didn’t look away. “If we go according to plan, you’ll just be dirtying your own hands!”

Before Trier could answer, she continued, "You've always been the purest person I've ever met. Please don't treat them like this."

"Delaying death, or fighting to the death..."

Trier tried to repeat the theories from the meeting, but before he could finish, the nun rudely interrupted him, saying, "This theory might fool a fool like Harlan! You know better than anyone what's right and what's wrong!"

“Trier!” Noy, abandoning her usual gentle demeanor, grabbed Trier’s right hand, but he deftly dodged it. “Victory doesn’t matter. Let’s get out of here! We can be together forever, just like before.”

“It will be difficult to get out without dealing with the cultists in Beaver Town—and you are a clergyman, so watch your words and actions,” Trier replied coldly. “Please get some rest; inefficient rest is dangerous for tomorrow.”

"No!" Noe's voice, which she had been deliberately suppressing, suddenly rose. "You can't leave me!"

—What a stupid statement! Is she crazy?

Trier frowned, about to scoff and retort, but the next moment, Neu suddenly hugged him tightly.

"Please...please don't abandon me." The nun's voice trembled with a sob. "I love you!"

The sweetness of citrus mingled with the scent of rosemary; through the thick nun's robe, soft, warm flesh was clearly perceptible; salty tears dripped onto Trier's chest.

Silver strands of hair brushed against her cheek, and Trier suddenly noticed that the crimson moon outside the window was exceptionally bright, surrounded by a cluster of stars.

“We should stay together forever,” Noe said haltingly, repeating a second time, “Let’s go now, let’s get out of this dangerous place as soon as possible.”

“This is breaking an oath…” Trier found his voice growing softer and softer.

He tried to break free from the other's embrace, but Noe's strength rendered the attempt futile, and the other held on even tighter.

While the current situation is somewhat unexpected, Trier was not unprepared.

He reached out and scooped up a yellow iris that was placed by the window, then gently tucked it behind Noy's ear.

—This thing was originally intended to appease Noe and prevent her from disagreeing with the plan.

"Thank you," Noi mumbled, a warm breath brushing against her ear. "Was it pretty?"

"Could you let go of my hand first?"

"No, unless you swear you'll never leave me."

"Are you sure it's forever?" Noi heard Trier say this, and for some reason, the other party emphasized the word "forever".

She didn't delve into her confusion; a hidden unease stemming from inspiration dissipated like the wind. So she simply leaned affectionately on the other person's shoulder and nodded.

“I promise you,” Trier said, his tone carrying an indescribable solemnity.

"Why not swear an oath?"

“A commitment is an internal, subjective constraint, while an oath is an external, coercive form.”

Noi chuckled softly, released her embrace, and gently brushed her slender fingers against the flowers near her ear—the flowers seemed to have withered somewhat.

"I didn't expect you to lack theological knowledge. Let's go, I've found a hidden route..."

“I’m sorry, not now,” Trier said softly. “Noye, and please swear that you’re not hiding anything from me.”

A chilling coldness pierced Noy's heart like a knife, instantly shattering the comforting, idyllic atmosphere. She shivered involuntarily, then felt a deep, heartfelt sorrow—Trier still didn't fully believe in her, why?!

She forced a smile: "Of course not, I swear to Radiance, I have never had any ill will towards you."

The next moment, she heard Trier say, "I believe you."

Noy blinked, and his hidden anger inexplicably vanished.

"Please trust me, there will be no problems tomorrow," the paladin said softly.

Noi nodded: "Since you insist, I'm willing to believe you!"

The next moment, the paladin said, "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be very difficult."