Azure Scepter

Page 7

"Still don't trust me..." Sister Noy muttered to herself in disappointment.

P.S.: Do you guys think we should change the cover?

Chapter 10 Anti-Magic Plague Array

The cellar was even dimmer than the staircase, and the enclosed space was filled with a stench of negative energy. Combined with the pungent smell of burning pine torches, Trier even felt a little dizzy.

"Thank goodness the blood plague can't be transmitted through the air," he thought to himself. "These sanitary conditions are just awful."

Two soldiers wielding halberds guarded the end of the stairs, while a large number of patients were tied to makeshift beds, their mouths gagged to prevent them from attacking others after transforming into undead.

"Miss Neu, you're finally back!" A soldier rushed forward. "My wife is dying, please save her!"

Following the soldier's gaze, Trier saw a pale-faced woman. Blood was seeping from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, with viscous blood mixed with dissolved fragments of internal organs. Clumps of translucent, fat maggots were twisted together, one of which had a particularly gruesome scarlet mouthpart in the torchlight.

Upon hearing the sound, the woman turned her head numbly like a walking corpse, then murmured unintelligible words in a muffled, hoarse voice that seemed to come from a grave.

This was not an isolated case; at least forty people in the wine cellar had reached this stage of infection, and the floor was almost completely soaked with various kinds of vomit mixed with translucent maggots and blood plasma.

Noy sat down next to the woman and gently took the infected man's hand: "It's alright, Hannah, I'm back. You'll get through this. The Radiance is protecting us all."

The nun's voice remained gentle, and the woman, who had been in despair, actually calmed down under her comfort, her dark eyes regaining focus.

His cloudy eyes darted around like rusty gears before fixing their gaze on Noy.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?"

The nun remained silent, but gripped her hand even tighter.

Fatiya was restless. The oppressive atmosphere made her want to leave as soon as possible. She could face dangerous undead, a battle she was destined to lose, and even her own death, but this oppressive feeling of despair was unbearable for her.

The elf instinctively turned to look at Trier, only to be surprised to find that the latter remained calm, as if the surroundings were not an underground isolation chamber exuding an aura of death, but a peaceful forest.

"Don't you feel depressed?" Futia asked instinctively.

Trier took out the cleaning supplies he had prepared in advance from his backpack and began to clean the ground precisely and efficiently in order to make room for drawing the magic circle: "Of course, but in the end it is just a psychological phenomenon that can be controlled."

The drawing of magic arrays must be adapted to local conditions.

It is impossible to prepare a perfectly flat surface in the wine cellar to serve as a drawing plane. Therefore, before starting work, the three-dimensional changes of the lines and the resulting constraints and projection changes must be fully considered.

After a moment's thought, Trier envisioned a ritual plan in his mind. He decided to construct a parallel ritual cluster in different areas, with the huge wine barrels in the cellar serving as the connecting points.

The paladin then took out his spellcasting materials and began to draw the spell array in a very methodical manner. His movements were concise and powerful, seemingly unhurried but extremely efficient.

Seeing Trill's confident demeanor, even the extremely uneasy Fytia calmed down. The elf discovered that the paladin's movements were full of rhythm, and it was not like he was drawing a magic circle, but rather like he was playing some kind of extremely skillful dance.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Just then, a heart-wrenching cough shattered the tranquility in Futia's heart. She turned her head and saw that the pale-faced woman's eyes had turned bloodshot at some point, and the light of reason was rapidly fading from her eyes!

Her skin began to blacken and wrinkle as if it were being scorched by invisible charcoal, and her teeth began to twist at an incredible speed—in just a few seconds, her appearance changed drastically, and she was becoming a ghost.

"Trier, please hurry!" Sister Neu was still holding the pale-faced woman, seemingly unconcerned that the woman was about to turn into a bloodthirsty undead. However, at this moment, a hint of anxiety crept into her usually calm voice.

"Hannah! No, no!" the guard cried out frantically as he rushed toward the woman. "Please!"

The woman's illness struck like a signal flare shot into the night sky. As her breathing grew heavier, heart-wrenching coughs, the suffocating sounds of her trachea being blocked, and the sounds of flesh and blood tearing apart rose up like a terrifying symphony, echoing throughout the wine cellar.

Even those infected who hadn't yet developed symptoms cried out in despair, turning the wine cellar into a terrifying mental hospital.

The ranger had picked up her scimitar again. Her face was pale, and she kept scanning her surroundings. Large beads of sweat mixed with the heat condensed and gathered at the tip of her nose, then dripped into the pool of blood on the ground. Noy ​​silently left the woman's side and hid behind Futia and the guards.

Only Trier remained unhurried and methodical in drawing the magic circle. His movements were still precise, and his expression remained calm, as if the terrifying scene around him did not exist at all.

"Haste makes waste, and the more urgent the situation, the more you need to stay calm." The time traveler reminded himself. "Judging from the speed at which the undead were being converted at the temple entrance this afternoon, I have about ten seconds left, which is plenty of time."

"Crack."

A blood-stained rope lay on the ground; Trier recognized it as the rope used to bind the patient beside him.

The torches flickered, casting the infected's shadows in the slippery pool of blood, wild and grotesque. Heavy, labored breathing came from the side, mingled with the stench of blood.

Trier trusted his judgment. He didn't look back, nor was he moved. His hands didn't even tremble.

Two seconds later, Trier finished drawing the magic circle.

[Perform the ritual "Anti-Magic Plague", XP-500]

Although Trier is not currently a magician and cannot directly observe the changes in the magical winds and magical principles, he clearly felt an invisible fluctuation the moment the ritual was completed.

The fluctuations resembled a dull noise emanating from a deep cave, or a feather duster covered in blood and barbs brushing against the skin. In an instant, the already dim firelight in the wine cellar flickered even more.

All the infected people who were experiencing symptoms stopped their hysterical spasms!

Only normal people, gripped by fear, continue to scream wildly.

"It works!" the paladin heard Futia's excited voice.

However, as a once highly skilled spellcaster, Trier knew that things were not so simple—the invisible fluctuations could only have come from a violent clash of magical winds.

The next moment, the black lines that made up the ritual suddenly transformed from flat shapes into three-dimensional objects. They stood up like gaunt monks wearing black hoods. The pitch-black three-dimensional lines were like those carelessly drawn by a drunken painter with wild and violent brushstrokes, completely different from the style of the real world.

“The motivation is insufficient, and the form has been activated by the principle—it seems that the cultist who cast the spell has invested a lot of power, and this spellcasting ability is at least 10 professional levels.” Trier was prepared. He took out a mop and wiped away the “pressure relief valve array” that was originally used to prevent the explosion.

As the mop wiped away the pressure relief valve, a massive amount of magical wind surged into the magic circle. The black, three-dimensional lines vanished instantly, as if erased by an eraser, and everything returned to calm, as if the eerie scene just now was merely a hallucination.

In the darkness, Trier seemed to hear someone's shrill scream coming from the void. He knew it was the result of a backlash from a spell cast by an enemy spellcaster.

"By the Radiance above, what was that just now..." the guard murmured to himself.

Ignoring the two terrified guards, Trier scanned all the infected and was pleased to find that his actions had been very timely, and not a single person had died directly from the outbreak of the blood plague.

The infected individuals who had just broken free of their restraints were indeed close to transformation, but ultimately did not.

Even the pale-faced woman who was no longer recognizable as human was not dead.

Everyone was fine, except for the cultists whose spellcasting had failed and whose location was unknown.

[WARNING: Your alignment is shifting slightly. Current alignment: Lawful Neutral (Good Deviation)]

[Your righteous actions are exceptionally consistent with the paladin's oath "To atone for evil," increasing your justice saving throw bonus by 1 point. Current saving throw bonus: 3]

Noi remained silent, hiding behind Futia. She herself had some knowledge of ritual magic, so she was extremely surprised at this moment—she understood very well that the overall structure of this ritual, the connection of lines, the timing of activation, etc., were all the work of a master. The entire ritual looked as exquisite as a work of art, and the complex and dazzling magic circle even showed a mechanical beauty under rational logic.

Considering that this was pieced together using various substitutes within ten minutes, the scene before us seems more like a miracle.

She looked at Trier with mixed feelings, only to find that he was looking at her too.

“This lady is dying. Please treat her fatal wound.” Trier pointed to the unconscious woman.

The nun quickly nodded in agreement, while Trier had already gone back up the stairs.

When news arrived that the method had worked, a burst of cheers erupted in the inn, sweeping away the somber, despairing atmosphere like snow under the warm spring sun. The hope of fighting the undead was rekindled in the hearts of the living in Beaver Town.

The paladin became a hero to the survivors, and some superstitious townspeople even collected the blood-stained bandages that Trill had used when he was injured to use as amulets.

Trier was alone in his room on the second floor of the hotel. A fire burned in the fireplace, casting a warm, orange glow, and the crisp sound of the burning wood conveyed a sense of cozy comfort.

He put away the three intelligence documents he had just finished writing and began to summarize what he had learned in the past half day.

"This half-day has been so fulfilling," the time traveler thought to himself.

Chapter 11 The Dead

"This half-day has been so fulfilling," the time traveler thought to himself.

"The plan has been largely accomplished: I obtained my main profession and resolved my life-or-death crisis; although I didn't find a horse or a map for long-distance travel, I found an alternative: I will leave Beaver Town tomorrow and head to Eraf, where the situation is still relatively stable, to purchase items."

"The original owner had a large sum of money with her, more than enough to buy supplies for her escape."

"I gained a total of 6700 experience points. I used 2200 points to hold the ceremony and take on my main job, so I have 4500 points left."

"I only need 500 more points to raise my Paladin level to 3 in one go, but I'm not in a hurry to use them now. If I can leave the Kingdom of Orko smoothly, I'll be quite safe for a long time. I can use these experience points to become a mage or for magical experiments."

"Creating spells and crafting magical artifacts consumes too many experience points."

"The original body's basic attributes are too bad. This physique is not very suitable for fierce close combat. Although it can still handle slaughtering low-level undead and cannon fodder cultists with its martial arts skills, if it were to fight against warriors or rangers of the level of Harlan or Futia, even if it won, it would probably be seriously injured."

With this thought in mind, Trier looked down at his left arm, which had once blocked the ghoul monk's kick. At this moment, his left arm was blackened, and the spot where he had been hit was swollen.

"Should we consider creating an undead henchman to mitigate the risks? There are experimental subjects everywhere now." A thought suddenly popped into the paladin's mind.

But the next moment, he rejected this idea: "Creating undead would cause a very serious alignment shift. Given my current lawful neutral alignment, another such evil act would inevitably lead to breaking the oath. We can try it after we return to lawful good. Within the Kingdom of Orko, the risks that can be avoided by the paladin identity far outweigh the benefits of having an extra undead henchman."

"I acquired two expertise: one background expertise and one personal expertise."

He silently called out the character panel in his mind:

[Defiance of Pain: You fought on while critically wounded, overcoming pain that would have knocked out an ordinary person. You gain an additional 1 point from Willpower and Fortitude saving throws.]

“Harlan can fight on without flinching even with a shattered eyeball; he must have an upgraded version of that specialty,” Trier thought. [Final Slash: After killing an enemy with a melee weapon, immediately deliver a second strike to the nearest enemy.]

“Both of these feats are pretty good,” Trier thought. “The main advantage of the Paladin class is that it is difficult to be controlled by various effects. With the Defiance of Pain feat, I can basically ignore all effects except for those that reflect damage.”

"I can do the Final Slash myself, and I don't know what new effects it will have after mastering this skill."

He continued to browse the information displayed on the panel.

"Cure of the Blood Plague [Folk Rumor]: In mid-March of the Year of Stars and Crimson Moon, in the Kingdom of Orco, you used ritual magic to delay the onset of the disease in a large number of people. This ritual, as a lifeline for those infected with the blood plague, will spread widely throughout the Kingdom of Orco, while the Silent Whisperers will begin to closely monitor this mysteriously appearing ritual master—as time goes by, you will gain up to 1 point of Legendary status."

"It actually has a legendary status?" Trier was somewhat surprised. "This kind of thing is not easy to obtain."

In short, "legendary reputation" refers to widespread fame, and in "Azure Scepter," it's generally only awarded as the final reward for events with far-reaching impact. It can be stacked onto any negotiation skill as a 10x bonus to legendary reputation.

In addition, for some players who choose to worship gods or advance to become higher-level ethereal beings, legend points are also a necessary resource.

For example, Trier remembered a guy in the guild who went through a lot of trouble to become a "Memory Mist". The Memory Mist is a very strange ethereal creature that can return from the memory of someone as long as they remember it, at the cost of losing a tiny bit of Legendary Points.

“With increased reputation comes increased risk,” Trier calmly calculated. “Before leaving tomorrow, it would be best to transfer the reputation of the ceremony to someone else; the already dead Hod is a good option.”

"However, doing good deeds is still a pleasant experience, and if this ritual can be widely spread, it can indeed extend the lives of many people."

Just as Trier was about to get up and stretch, a large ball of golden light suddenly shot straight in from the window and crashed into his head.

[xp+3000!]

"Did the cultist who released the accelerated plague in Beaver Town die from a backlash?" Trier stared at the sudden increase of 3000 experience points, momentarily speechless. He summoned his character panel, scrolled through a long list of records, and finally found the relevant combat information.

[Spell Counter Successful]

[Click to confirm]

[Severe concussion!]

[Severe internal bleeding!]

Fifteen minutes later, the timeline in the battle information showed...

[Target is dead]

“He bled to death.” Trier shook his head, silently taking it as a warning. “He didn’t even prepare for the backlash before casting the spell. This is either too arrogant or he has a professional level but seriously lacks experience in spellcasting duels.”

Spellcasting is an extremely dangerous activity, and taking necessary precautions and preparations before casting a spell is the first lesson that every spellcaster who has received formal training must learn.

“This is an unexpected bonus. But in any case, everything is ready now. I just need to get a good night’s sleep and leave here with Futia and the others tomorrow morning—it’s been a long day.” Trier sat on the bed and began to meditate to recover his strength.

As an exceptionally suspicious person, he dared not fall asleep now.

Meanwhile, on the first floor of the hotel.

“I am not afraid of fighting, but we cannot fight against thin air cloaked in cloaks, Sir. I hope you can understand us.” The garrison captain’s emotions had calmed down considerably. He said to Harlan in a calm tone, “We at least need to know who the enemy is.”

"I swear to protect this land and its people." The knight stared at the garrison captain with his last remaining eye. "Whatever enemy there is, we will destroy it."

The veteran sighed: "Ideals and oaths don't put food on the table, Sir. Tactics make it war, courage makes it suicide. We know nothing about cults now—except that this cult is called the Silent Whisperers."

After a moment of silence, Harlan said, "Terrell will give you the relevant information before he leaves tomorrow morning. I and Sister Neu will each receive it."

"Is this to guard against cultists among us?" The garrison captain picked up his wooden mug and took a swig of beer. "But how did he know that information? By the light of day, is he really possessed by something? — This is very unusual, sir. I remember he used to be just an admirer of Sister Noy, but this secretive behavior reminds me of the sorcerer in the bard's tales."

“Ideals and speculations won’t put food on the table,” Harlan retorted. “Whoever he is, he’s helping us right now. He saved my life, and whatever he is, I’m willing to believe him.”

The veteran chuckled, "Ha, Sir, at least you're not so idealistic anymore."

"This isn't a good thing either," Harlan muttered to himself, covering his missing eye socket.

Chapter 12 Dawn

The fog had not dissipated by the next morning.

Trier stood quietly by the window on the second floor of the hotel, gazing north towards Beaver Town.

The cold mist seemed to seep through the glass, and the chill seeped into the room through the window, but was quickly dispelled by the fire in the stove.

Last night was very quiet, and nothing unexpected happened. After a night's rest, the paladin's health improved from critical injury to moderate injury.