Translator: CinderTL
After a moment, the black-robed figure finally withdrew the greedy look from their eyes, slowly shifting their gaze to the giant's corpse, now split in two by the blade.
A nearly imperceptible sigh drifted away on the wind.
"Failed... It seems the experiment's results aren't perfect."
"I wonder how things turned out over there."
With these words, which sounded like a murmur, the black-robed figure slowly turned, the pattern on their back barely visible in the moonlight.
It was a pair of eyes, wide open to their fullest extent, embroidered with dark silver thread.
The eyelids were deliberately elongated into unnatural curves, the upper eyelashes standing out like thorns, while the lower lashes formed a dense tangle of fine lines that spiraled downwards.
Deep within the pupils, a spiral pattern turned inward, like the entrance to an abyss, with dark red blood vessels extending from the spiral's end like strands of hair.
As the fabric moved, the entire pair of eyes seemed to contract slightly, as if alive, gazing intently yet also peering into the depths.
Even with the enhancement of the Sharp Eye Potion, Roland's vision had improved significantly, but he still had no chance of witnessing this scene from such a distance.
Moreover, he was surrounded by a swarm of manor guards, who were excitedly vying to express their respect.
With John's help, they finally calmed the agitated guards.
As John systematically organized them, some began clearing the mess while others remained at their posts.
Watching order gradually return, Roland finally exhaled.
Only then did he notice Darco standing at the edge of the crowd, staring blankly.
"Darco!"
Seeing the young noble, Roland immediately dismounted and hurried over.
He examined his friend closely, asking anxiously, "Are you alright?"
"What could possibly be wrong with me?" Darco finally tore his gaze away from the giant's corpse, split in two by a blade.
But when he saw Roland covered in blood, his brow furrowed deeply, and his voice became urgent.
"It's you, Roland. Are you alright?"
He circled Roland several times, repeatedly checking for injuries before finally exhaling in relief.
The young noble covered his nose with his sleeve to block the strong smell of blood, then asked in confusion, "What exactly happened here?"
In response, Roland briefly recounted the battle.
Darco's initially calm expression gradually shifted to surprise, finally settling into an indescribable complexity as he stared deeply at his friend.
His father, Baron Forslin's words suddenly echoed in his ears.
"Do you truly believe a genius like Roland would settle for being your army's blacksmith?"
"Ha..."
Darco's lips curled into a wry, helpless smile.
"Forget army blacksmith—even being a knight's squire would be beneath him."
"Darco? Darco?"
"What?"
Roland frowned at the young noble's distracted expression and repeated his question.
"I asked if your father had any final instructions before he left." He gestured towards the corpses being carried away by the guards. "It's clear these people were here to completely destroy the manor."
"Well..." Darco hesitated, pondering for a long moment before speaking cautiously. "I told you everything my father said before, but... he specifically warned me to be wary of Baron Gavin of Dawn Territory."
"Baron Gavin?" Roland's eyebrows arched at the familiar name. "Did your father have a conflict with him?"
"Not exactly..." Darco carefully recalled Baron Forslin's earnest advice, speaking slowly. "My father simply said that Baron Gavin has grown old and senile in recent years, and I should be careful he doesn't do anything foolish."
"Old and senile?"
Roland wasn't sure how old Baron Gavin was, but hearing Darco's words, he couldn't help but recall the rumors circulating in Blackwater Territory. A doubt suddenly arose in his mind.
So old, and still so eager to revive the right of the first night?
Roland suppressed the irrelevant thought and said sternly, "Regardless, Darco, I think you should immediately send someone to inform Lord Baron Forslin about the attack on the manor. And..."
Recalling the longbows, catapults, and siege ram used by the rioters, Roland's voice grew more grave.
"Since they managed to obtain military equipment to attack the manor, it proves they have backers. There's no guarantee they won't target the Lord Baron himself while he's away."
"I understand," Darco replied, no fool. Roland's words had immediately struck home.
He gazed at the ravaged manor forecourt. Though he hadn't witnessed the battle firsthand, the guards' awestruck praise had made it clear where the victory lay.
"Thank you, Roland. Without you..."
Darco's throat tightened, his eyes filled with genuine gratitude.
"This is the second time you've saved me. I just happen to have a suit of armor crafted by Mr. Hawk..."
"Enough," Roland said, clapping Darco heavily on the shoulder. The force of the blow made Darco wince, forcing the rest of his thanks back down his throat.
"We'll discuss rewards later. Right now, go take care of the urgent matters."
"Understood," Darco replied, rubbing his aching shoulder. After exchanging a few words with John, he turned and left.
Roland didn't rush to rest either. He found a clean linen cloth and carefully collected some of the pale blue, crystal-like objects from the giants and rioters. Then, he strode toward Bronson's wooden cabin.
In stark contrast to the brutal carnage in the manor's front courtyard, the cabin remained eerily tranquil, perhaps due to its secluded location.
Roland cautiously scanned the surroundings, confirming there was no danger before stepping forward and pushing open the slightly weathered wooden door.
Bang!
Before the creaking of the door hinges could fade, a tall, slender figure swung a wooden stool at him.
Roland easily caught the blow, the stool colliding with his palm with a dull thud.
"It's me, Mr. Bronson," Roland said, his voice deliberately soft as he looked at the scholar's terrified face.
"Oh, Heavenly Father, it's you, Roland?" Bronson's tense nerves finally relaxed. But when he saw the still-wet bloodstains on Roland's collar in the moonlight, his voice trembled again.
"You... what happened outside?"
"A mob attacked the manor, but it's been dealt with."
Roland replied curtly, sidestepping Bronson's slender frame to carefully spread the wrapped pale blue crystals on the wooden table.
"There's something more important now, Mr. Bronson. Take a look at this."
After Roland detailed the crystals' origins and the eerie phenomenon of the mob continuing to move after death, the pungent smell of blood drained the color from Bronson's face.
However, his professional demeanor as a researcher quickly took over. Frowning, his gaze locked onto the crystals, which emitted a faint blue glow.
True to his reputation as a well-read scholar, Bronson soon reached a conclusion.
"This is a Crystal Cluster!"
His voice trembled with a mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers instinctively reached out to touch the mysterious crystals, but hesitated mid-air.
"A Crystal Cluster?"
"Yes. It's an anomalous product of a highly concentrated fusion between a humanoid creature and a Magic Element."
As Bronson spoke, he hurried to a nearby bookshelf, his fingers swiftly gliding across the dusty spines. Dust cascaded down with each movement.
Not long after, Bronson pulled out a thick ancient text, spreading it open on the table. He then turned and hurried to a corner, rummaging through a worn leather pouch to retrieve a parchment whose edges were nearly crumbling. He carefully laid it out on another wooden table.
"Look here. Before the Final Epoch, there was a place called Crushed Stone Valley..."
Bronson's finger traced across the yellowed pages, his voice tinged with solemnity.
"Likely due to its unique terrain, the concentration of Magic Element there was exceptionally high."
Roland followed his guidance, turning his gaze to the ancient text titled Geflin's Travels. Bronson's explanation continued.
"The humans who lived there weren't just highly attuned to the Magic Element; they could even naturally perform tricks."
"But this prosperity didn't last. Over time, the local residents began to suffer from a strange disease called the Crystal Devourer. Pale blue crystals would inexplicably grow beneath the patients' skin..."
He quickly flipped through the pages, revealing more details to Roland.
"This disease wasn't unique to humans. Dwarves called it the Blue Plague, while orcs saw it as the Curse of Light."
Bronson's fingertip finally landed on an illustration.
The figure in the drawing was covered in grotesque Crystal Clusters, which seemed to glow with an eerie blue light in the candlelight—identical to the appearance of the rioters Roland had just encountered.
"But..."
Roland carefully compared the description in the book with the rioters he had just encountered, then slowly shook his head.
"While these 'Crystal Devourer' patients suffered excruciating pain, underwent various mutations, and ultimately died from the disease, their symptoms seemed completely different from those of the rioters I encountered. They showed no signs of bloodthirsty brutality, nor did they continue moving after death."
"That's true, but the key lies in this..."
Bronson nodded gravely, his eyes narrowing slightly as he lowered his voice even further.
"The mutations caused by the 'Crystal Devourer' within humanoid beings represent infinite possibilities in the eyes of some."
"Therefore, I suspect that certain individuals—just like you and me, who have sensed the resurgence of the Magic Element—are conducting forbidden experiments using it."
As he spoke, the scholar's gaunt fingers tapped lightly on the tattered parchment scroll.
Roland followed the scholar's finger and his brow furrowed slightly.
The yellowed parchment didn't contain the lighthearted anecdotes of Geflin's Travels. Instead, it bore faded and mottled wanted posters.
WANTED: 'Eternal Slumber Eye' High Councilor. Crime: Cultivating Crystal Clusters with living humans to create immortal puppets. Features: Black robe, silver eyes, gravelly voice like stones grinding together. — Black Tower Council: Top Secret Pursuit
REWARD: Alchemist Seres, a defector. Crime: Spreading the Crystal Devourer plague in Moon Mountain Town, twisting living beings in pursuit of eternal life. WARNING
KILL ORDER: 'The Peering One,' mastermind of the Crystal Devourer plague in the Lilac Empire. Crime: Cultivating an Abyssal Eye with living subjects. Features:
Roland fell silent, stunned by the horrifying crimes detailed on the parchment.
(End of the Chapter)
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