Chapter Twelve: Shadows Drawn by the Light

The arrest of Zakley and his criminal gang made life in Croop seem rather noisy that day. Nio was depressed because Old Grapes had died. The stubborn old man refused to leave his workplace, but he couldn’t defy fate. After being rescued, he was barely alive. About half an hour later, he showed a brief revival, uttering a few heart-wrenching words that made everyone cry, before closing his eyes forever.

The daughter of the Mashif family and the young wife of Toulon were also hurt. Alcohol, lust, and indulgence—eternal themes of suffering, both physical and mental, irreparable, leaving only room for venting. The three sergeants who couldn’t control themselves were beaten by the villagers, not including Zakley, as it wasn’t necessary. Zakley’s screams of pain made everyone who heard them feel as if he were already in hell.

“Nio.”

Nio, who was putting a saddle on a horse, turned to see Ashborn.

“Do we have to leave our home?” Ashborn asked, his voice trembling.

Nio nodded. “Only by staying alive can we have hope. And we’ll come back.” He said the latter part with certainty.

“It’s hard to leave one’s homeland!” Ashborn sighed. The morning wind messed up his hair, which, compared to the snow, was hard to tell which was whiter.

After tightening the belt around the horse’s belly and adjusting it to the right fit, Nio said earnestly, “Everyone trusts you and needs you.”

Ashborn closed his eyes slightly, tilted his head back, and took a deep breath. After a while, he opened his eyes and nodded at Nio. “Alright, I’ll persuade everyone to start packing. But Lord Zeviel’s injuries…” He meant that with Zeviel’s condition, he likely couldn’t withstand the rough journey, the cold, and the much poorer food.

Nio said nothing, just continued to look at Ashborn with a calm, clear gaze. Then Ashborn understood—sometimes, life and death are determined by fate…

At that moment, Ebute walked over quickly. The sergeant on watch in the southeast part of the village was a Level 2 warrior. Ebute had suffered some minor injuries trying to capture him, but he seemed in good spirits, free from his earlier depression and gloom. “Do you want me to go with you?” he asked as he walked.

In the Manmoris family, the strongest were Nio and the head guard, Carlon. Nio’s age, rapid improvement in strength, intelligence, and performance made him highly regarded by everyone. Moreover, having fought together for years, they were familiar with each other, and a sort of hierarchy had formed. Since Zeviel hadn’t publicized Nio’s abilities, it was natural for Nio to take the lead. In fact, no one in Tures regarded Nio as just a 19-year-old boy.

Nio thought for a moment and nodded. “That’s good. Take the young master and the young lady back to Croop. I’ll go to the town to investigate further.”

“The soldiers and bandits?” Ebute was worried. He meant whether they should deal with them now to avoid any complications, especially since Rajef was very weak, leaving only the honest villagers.

“The young master will surely handle things fairly in place of Lord Zeviel,” Nio replied calmly.

Ebut had also been with Xavier for some time, and through observation, he naturally understood Nio’s intentions, so he said nothing more. The two of them and five riders headed west. It was around 6:30 a.m., and it would still be another hour and a half before daylight fully broke. Nio signaled Ebut to take the lead, while he himself moved in rhythm with the pace of the White Socks, dozing off intermittently. The recent battles had left him exhausted, yet he needed to stay energetic for their third attempt to enter Tulip Town. With so many tasks piling up, even the strongest body might not be able to keep up. When they reached the southern part of West Cliff Forest, it was Nio who had to lead the way, as Ebut was unaware of the secret path. Following behind Nio, Ebut marvelled at how remarkable this secret path really was. Even from a distance, or while walking through it, it often gave the impression of a narrow and difficult path ahead. Yet once passed, it turned out the obstacles were much smaller than expected. On the other hand, Nio would ignore those areas that seemed easy to traverse, suggesting that choosing them would only lead to getting lost after a short distance. By the time they reached the cave, it was just beginning to dawn. Dave and Milien had already gotten up. Upon seeing Ebut, just as Nio had done when first meeting him, Dave instinctively asked, “Father…” “Severely injured, but still alive,” Ebut replied, causing both Milien and Dave to feel both relieved and worried. “We’ll talk on the way,” Nio said, greeting them before rushing to the luggage. He had instructed Dave to prepare it early in the morning, and now it was mostly ready—there were horses for transportation and dedicated pack animals, so there was no need to repeat the ordeal of fleeing Tulip Town. “Nio, what about your arm?” Milien asked, concerned about her father but also paying attention to Nio. Seeing blood seeping through the bandage on his left arm, she couldn’t hold back her concern any longer and stepped forward to ask. “It’s fine, just a superficial wound. Wrap yourself up tightly, especially keeping your head, hands, and feet warm. We need to keep moving.” As Ebut reached out to help Dave carry things, he noticed the expressions and tones in Milien and Nio’s conversation and was surprised. He could see that Milien’s concern and nervousness for Nio were natural and deep, while Nio’s responses were simple yet full of affection. This wasn’t just a simple love story of a hero saving a beauty and the beauty falling in love—this was the kind of affection and understanding that only exists between long-term lovers. “You two?” Milien stood on tiptoes and gave him a passionate kiss, completely dispelling Ebut’s confusion. A traditional, reserved, and dignified young lady would only kiss a man if he were her closest relative—someone as close as Ebut, who was merely her cousin, wasn’t even qualified enough. As they loaded the luggage onto the pack animals, Nio briefly explained the situation in Cropp to Dave in a few concise words, ending with, “I suggest eliminating Zakley and his confidants in public. You do it—use force.” At that moment, Dave clearly held his breath. To build courage, he had killed pigs, sheep, and beasts, but humans… The Manmories didn’t have the means to let their own people practice on death row inmates.

Dive understood the intention behind Nio’s suggestion. He also believed that in such a situation, deterrence was more meaningful than appeasement. Making a prompt decision, Dive told himself that this had to be done, and done as well as possible. Yet, an inevitable sense of anguish rose in his heart, hard to dispel…

Nio understood Dive’s feelings very well, as he had experienced similar emotions before—when he was younger, more fragile, and quite confused. He patted Dive on the shoulder, “This is the path you’ve chosen…”

Indeed, Dive had chosen this path. Blood and bones were inevitable parts of the scenery.

At the cave entrance, Nio parted ways with Ebute and the others. He switched to another wolf as a temporary mount. White Sock knew the way—they needed to head south out of the North Bayleaf Forest and then eastward to Croop. With White Sock carrying Milien, Nio felt a bit more at ease. After all, she was a “warrior woman.”

“Be careful!” After Nio mounted his ride, Milien pursed her lips and tightly held onto his hand. Every time Nio set out, it worried her deeply. That feeling was truly awful, and accumulating over time left her exhausted. Like most gentlewomen of her era, Milien longed for stability, peace, and tranquility. Yet the man she loved seemed destined never to have those things.

“See you in Croop.” In front of Milien, Nio was always firm, confident, and sure of himself—typical of a man from the North.

Nio rode his wolf north, left the North Bayleaf Forest, and made a large semicircle to reach the forest road where battles had taken place. He came here mainly to observe the traces on the ground. The trees along the road were lush, with branches stretching out like umbrellas. In still weather, snow would be trapped by these umbrellas rather than falling evenly like on the plains. If any cavalry or vehicles passed by recently, traces would be easiest to find here.

After observing the area, the results were mixed. On the positive side, it seemed the barbarian tribes hadn’t arrived yet. On the negative side, the dark minions of Tulip Town might have received reinforcements. The unique stench of darkness hadn’t dissipated even after so much time—among the reinforcements, there were likely real demons.

Although Nio hadn’t guessed everything exactly, he was close. It was Black Knight Fad and his subordinates who had arrived, including a figure who left a deep impression on Nio: Vladimir, the “Beast” of the West Wind Battle Corps.

After obtaining intelligence about the secret chamber in Souls City from Nio, Vladimir rushed there with a few trusted men and infiltrated the underground hall from Karonper’s tomb. As a result of this, Vladimir luckily avoided the “Dead Spot Rot Burst,” but unfortunately ran into Serre, a high-ranking demon who was fiddling with Karonper’s corpse, in the underground hall.

Vladimir was a Level 10 swordsman. It must be said that such a profession appearing on a Videnis werewolf was truly rare, which at least indicated that Vladimir’s intelligence was outstanding among his kind. Yet there were countless beings in this world who could be considered “exceptional,” some of whom perished early on—just as it was inevitable for werewolves to lose their hair and fur—making Vladimir just another unremarkable example.

Vladimir could injureNeo in a single strike, yet in front of Thorey, he was tragically no match for even one move. The “beautiful beast” fell silently, like an ant crushed under a passerby’s shoe, and thus the Black Swordsman Vladimir was born.

Unlike the Dark Knight Fad, Vladimir did not sacrifice his soul to darkness. So Thorey used the “Appetite Devourer” spell to amplify Vladimir’s desires, causing him to fail both the Virtue Test and the Willpower Test, thus turning him into a monster whose mind was completely blinded by desire.

From a certain perspective, such a state of mind was equivalent to madness, reducing his strength by three levels. This level of punishment was already quite surprising. If there was anything else that displeased Vladimir, it was that after becoming a Black Swordsman, he had finally become ordinary and mediocre, matching the intelligence level of other Videnis werewolves…

By peering into Vladimir’s thoughts, Thorey learned ofNeo’s whereabouts and more about his personal details.

“That little scoundrel!” Thorey shouted through gritted teeth in the underground hall.

Thorey had every right to accuse him, as after dealing with enemies on the surface and returning to the underground hall to fiddle with Karonper’s corpse, he was trying to find out where Karonper’s soul had gone. After sacrificing several loyal subordinates in blood rituals, he learned that Karonper’s soul remained in this world, inside some extremely secure and hidden container that had not made any contact since then.

“A thought crystal—it’s that damned thought crystal!” After some time, the truth finally came to light. Thorey also learned about the Evil Fire Puppet that died in the Arcane Tower area and understood that the pursuit machine’s target wasNeo. Thus, everything connected together. Thorey wasn’t short on imagination—he could see why Dantestine had taken a liking to him.

Thorey wanted to dig outNeo to find Karonper’s soul coffin, but the Church’s Blood Cross Inquisitors’ surgical strikes hindered the smooth progress of his plan. Faced with the Church’s formidable combat power, Thorey, who was “in the enemy’s backlines,” had no choice but to endure humiliation and stay out of the spotlight.

By the time Thorey sent people to the temporary camp of the West Wind Warriors to search, it was already deserted—not a single living person left. WhetherNeo had returned to the city or fled eastward, Thorey found it difficult to determine what choice he had made.

At this moment, the hidden Dark Cultists once again played a crucial role. It took them over a dozen hours to confirm the information and send it to Thery through special secret channels: Nio was neither in Solth City nor had he fled eastward. Then, after a few more hours, new news arrived—Baron Kryllion had sent knight Adrian with a group of men south to Tures, where Nio was said to be, though his fate remained unknown.

“Fad, I’ll set up two supply points along the eastern route. You know what to do,” Thery said, thus establishing the strategy for capture—not by setting traps, but by using bait.

If the commoners and nobles who later made their way eastward relying on those supply points learned that they were able to survive and reach Asia only because of a condemned prisoner, one wonders what they would think.

Thery made the plans, and Fad set off. Leading a group of fierce warriors south to Tures, he arrived in Tulip Town at dawn yesterday. At that time, Nio, Milien, and Dif were fast asleep in the caves on West Cliff, while Eirith was directing people to carry relics onto the airship for evacuation.

“Hurry up and finish transporting these junk pieces! You’ve been temporarily conscripted!” Fad said arrogantly to Eirith and Imorton from atop his tall horse.

Demons and undead were merely pawns of the Dark Forces. Thery possessed the great sword symbolizing authority bestowed by Dantestine, granting him absolute control over all the Dark Forces in the Erdrit Domain. His trusted Black Knights, naturally, gained even more power. With just a seal, he became the new master of Tulip Town—even Eirith, who usually acted tough and considered himself a cultured ruffian, behaved deferentially.

It took half a day to rescue the werewolves and the pair of children from the Manmoris family… Fad learned about all these sensitive matters and formed a fairly accurate assessment. Misled by Eirith’s confident analysis, Fad believed Nio had accomplices—a combat team of about 20 people helping him.

Fad never imagined that this combat team would be some ridiculous Monstoke Expedition. After all, even the mad would avoid Monstoke this season; being cooked into a human stew or turned into dried meat would be far crueller than death. Fad’s personal guess was that these well-trained individuals, who seemed to operate with a certain professional coordination, were private soldiers secretly raised by the Manmoris family. Secretly maintaining private armies wasn’t uncommon in the Frey Alliance, especially in wealthy border regions like the Erdrit Domain.

“My lord, they have nowhere to hide. Shall we search for them?” Imorton was eager to prove himself and promptly suggested it that day.

At that moment, Fad glanced at Imorton, pointed out the window, and said, “Go take a look!”

Confused, Imorton still went to the window as ordered and looked outside.

“What do you see?”

“Uh… a vast world covered in snow?” It was rare to see Imorton not know where to steal such lines from some bard, and he even added a follow-up, annoying everyone present.

Faddei’s face twitched, then he said bluntly, “It’s freezing cold, with heavy snowfall. In such weather, can I really expect those of your men—who only want to huddle by the fire with women and bottles, indulging in fun—to deal with those desperate, blood-eyed professionals?”
“Cough, cough!” Imorton could only offer an awkward laugh. He was well aware of the poor character of his subordinates, and there was nothing to argue about it.
Faddei continued, “But I can rely on the people of Tulip Town—they’ll help us find those sneaky rabbits.”
“Brilliant! Truly brilliant!” Eirlys stepped forward to praise. “A group is much more noticeable than one person. The common people may be a burden, but the Manmoris family can’t be ignored. We can slowly pinpoint our target without alerting them, then capture them all at once. We can even drive them east, waiting to strike when they’re exhausted and hungry from being harried by the people!”
Faddei nodded slightly in satisfaction and added, “We don’t even need to do the driving—those barbarian invaders who arrive later will handle it well. Rooted!” Faddei signaled one of his subordinates.
Rooted·Pierous, once an actor, was handsome and graceful, appearing more upright than true upright people and more heroic than real heroes. Of course, that was only with clever makeup.
“You’ll play a hero who saves the people of Tulip Town from disaster, a hero who also brings important news of barbarian invasions.”
Rooted stepped forward, already fully in character! “Yes, my lord! Those vile barbarians have invaded the Erdrite lands! Their filthy hooves are ravaging our homeland. I long to fight them to the death and defend this land with my blood, but thinking of my fellow villagers, siblings, and everyone else, to spare more from humiliation and slaughter, I choose to endure…”
Eirlys and Imorton stared in astonishment at this indignant man, feeling as if Saint Aaron had possessed him in an instant—his very existence seemed meant to shoulder the responsibilities of his country and bring hope to the people!
Faddei applauded in satisfaction and smiled at Imorton. “Among your subordinates, is there anyone you dislike or who needs severe punishment?”
“…Well, actually, there is!” Though it pained him, Imorton didn’t dare ignore Faddei’s question. He thought it might be a good opportunity to eliminate some miscreants!