Gods Don't Care

The wilds northwest of Londan. Vehicles left the broad highway and turned onto a quiet tree-lined path. After driving about fifty kilometers, high walls appeared, surrounded by mountains and forests. Guard towers stood at the four corners of the wall, manned around the clock. Searchlights swept through the night. It looked like a tightly guarded prison. After passing three checkpoints, a castle came into view, surrounded by dense woods. Built from natural timber and stone and dotted with vegetation, it seemed to merge with nature. The castle embodied the beauty of harmony with nature. Around it stood wooden villas added later, stretching in clusters to form a resort village. Butterflies and bees flitted busily through the flowers. A breeze passed, dappled tree shadows swayed, and birds darted after one another, calling out. It was a cozy place, making every visitor feel calm and comfortable, especially the rows of wooden villas, which looked exactly like vacation estates for noble lords. Red Leaf Forest Asylum. Sidney parked his sedan in the lot, went to his office, and put on a white coat. Though he no longer held a post as a priest, he still had a side job: doing research at a psychiatric hospital. Red Leaf Forest was no ordinary madhouse. The doctors and nurses it employed were all mages, and several attending physicians came from different churches, all possessing the formidable strength of Golden mages. Sidney stopped before the director's office door, checked his attire, then knocked. “Come in. There are no female nurses in here.” Sidney pushed the door open and walked up to the director's desk. Before him was an old bald man with a gray-streaked beard and reading glasses. The director of Red Leaf Forest Asylum—Planck. Planck was unkempt, wearing a greasy white coat. His beard had not been groomed for a long time; tangled and hardened, it hung stiffly down to his chest and made a knocking sound whenever it hit the desk. He carried the peculiar odor of an old man. Because of bad habits such as flirting with female nurses and borrowing money from patients without repaying them, he was often summoned by HR. At times he would mutter mysteriously, and sometimes he would suddenly start cursing during meetings, making it hard to believe in his mental state. Perhaps the old fellow had been mad for years. Sidney had once secretly investigated his own director: a man with no faith, or rather, one who believed in everything, a little bit of every deity. Planck came from the Free Mages Alliance. Since the major churches all wanted their own people as director, nine consecutive votes failed, and in the end he was voted into the position. According to whispers, this old man was very likely a legendary mage. It should be true. After all, whispers like that were highly credible. Sidney respected Director Planck greatly. He had personally seen the director drive an attending physician into depression and then “treat” him to death. In less than two hours, a promising Golden mage was gone. “Sidney, I heard you were dismissed from the Church of Nature. What, did you come today to ask for a raise?” Planck said with amusement. Sidney smiled politely. “Not at all. Without my position at the Church of Nature, I can devote more time and energy to serving my patients. That is a good thing. I passed by your office to increase my workload.” “Can you? Aren't you afraid you'll go mad?” “No. My faith in the Goddess of Nature is firm and without regret.” “Hard to say. Your teacher was firmer than anyone back then.” “...” Sidney: If you're going to talk like that, then I have nothing to say. “Enough joking. Tell me, what exactly brings you to see me?” Planck pulled open the desk drawer, took out a large box of cream bread, and started wolfing it down. “Frankly speaking,” he said while eating, “your mind may be perfectly healthy, but you are an extremely purposeful man. In the past, you always avoided me. Without business, you wouldn't come to my office.” Sidney gave an embarrassed smile. This was why he did not particularly like the director: the man spoke bluntly, with no artistic sense of language at all. Still, there were benefits to talking with such a person: no beating around the bush. If there was something to say, you said it. “This morning, several students called me. Things are hard in Londan, and the intelligence about the Death Knight appearing has been confirmed.” Sidney lowered his voice. “So what? You don't think these old bones of mine can drag the Death Knight into the madhouse and lock him up, do you?” Planck bent his beard and licked off the cream on it. “Not to mention that I can't do it. Even if I could, the Death Knight isn't a madman. Why catch him?” Sidney: (_) Well-reasoned. Sidney could not refute it. The Death Knight truly was not a madman. “Another point: who confirmed the intelligence? Why do people think the Death Knight has really come? He will not leave the Catacombs. That is the consensus. We should trust science.” Planck shrugged. “You can have the church try airplanes and cannons. The times are advancing. Stop always thinking of fighting enemies with magic. The imagination of ordinary people is changing this world too.” “Take you, for example. You are a Golden mage, but before airplanes and cannons, you are still flesh and blood. The moment you step into a magic-forbidden domain, a single pistol can take your life.” What would I be doing in a magic-forbidden domain for no reason? Sidney was utterly speechless. Knowing that if he didn't interrupt, the old bastard would talk all day as if in a meeting, he opened his mouth. “Director, I...” “No interrupting. I'm not finished.” “...” Half an hour later, Sidney stared at the director before him, exhausted in both mind and body. He deeply regretted his rashness. Had he known this would happen, he would have perished together with the Lord of the Void back then. “Right, where were we? The part about the Church of the Earth's Core, yes?” Did I say that? Sidney's mind was a pot of mush. He tried to recall. It seemed he had mentioned it. This was the purpose of his visit. So he took up the topic. “Director, my former teacher, Marshall—the evil god worshiped by the Church of the Earth's Core, the Lord of the Void—is still on the God-favored Continent. His thoughts have not lingered on the Astral Realm. I smell a conspiracy. A disaster that will sweep across the God-favored Continent is coming...” “Go on.” Planck put down the cream cake and his expression gradually turned grave. “The Death Knight leaving the Great Underground Catacomb is the best example. I cannot find the source of the disaster, but I suspect the Lord of the Void must know something...” A sharp glint flickered in Sidney's eyes. “My strength is insufficient to investigate where the evil god resides. I came to ask for the director's help. I want to sever this sinful master-disciple bond with my own hands.” “Very well. But with my strength alone, it will be difficult to find the Lord of the Void. I will contact others and send you word after a while.” “Thank you for your trouble, Director.” “It's nothing. If I don't treat you soon, you'll go mad too. It's what I should do.” Planck raised a hand toward the door, seeing him out. “When you pass the nurses' station, call Jenny in for me. Tell her the director has a spell that makes things bigger and is prepared to give her a private demonstration.” Glad to escape, Sidney thanked him again and left the office. Standing outside, he let out a breath. The old man really did have something after all. If that set of tactics hadn't been outdated, and if he hadn't been on guard and given himself a mental suggestion, he probably would have confessed everything just now. Sidney straightened his clothes and headed for the nurses' station. He remembered the nurse named Jenny, who came from the Holy See of the Heavenly Father. Rumor said she was the illegitimate daughter of some bishop. As he walked, Sidney mused that this bishop was truly a strange one—so peculiar that he had taken an unexpected path and did not like little boys. Inside the office, Director Planck ate another large box of cream bread and shook his head at the door. “I respect the choice of fate, and I am willing to help you once. You had better not go mad, or I will have no choice but to personally push you onto the operating table...” He opened the file cabinet behind him and took out a wooden box painted with a golden triangle. After opening it, he rummaged through the box, picking and choosing. The cross of the Heavenly Father, the pendant of death, the medal of the sun, the chalice of fresh blood, the ancient one-eyed pentagram... They were all ordinary little trinkets! Finally, Planck fished out a dark ring, gripped it tightly in his hand, and muttered, his eyes pitch-black: “Whether the Death Knight is real or fake indeed needs to be confirmed. He is too dangerous.” “And Marshall—why does he keep pestering Sidney? Is there something in Londan worth his attachment?” “Could he have regained his reason? Discovered the true meaning of balance?” “He shouldn't be that smart...” The sewers. Clop, clop, clop! The undead warhorse ran back and forth. Wayne rode it, using a cavalry charge skill. His sparring partner was Abin. The dog was chased around, wagging its tail happily as it ran. On the sidelines was another spectator, Axue. The white owl stared wide-eyed at the three lively fools. The scene was too eye-searing, and it was hard to accept at first. If this was the Death Knight's true face, were not the souls slain miserably under his sword wronged? “Axue, come here.” Wayne sat on the horse's back. As if thinking of something, he suddenly raised his arm. Axue did not want to get too close to the Death Knight, but with six empty eye sockets fixed on it, it flew over reluctantly. The white snowy owl landed on the armored arm. Wayne scratched its head. It closed its eyes and opened its beak, looking very much like it was enjoying itself. “I still prefer your unyielding, unruly look. This face is too silly now.” Wayne's pitch-black sockets fixed on the snowy owl, a white light flickering within them. The power of death, symbolizing peace and eternity, coiled upward and slowly poured into Axue's body. Axue instinctively tried to resist, but it was too late. Death corroded its white feathers and flesh, enveloping it in a withered, ugly undead skin. Axue let out a strange cry and flapped its wings to take off. It tried to shake off the aura of death, terrified it would never again return to the sun's embrace. “Looks like you like it too!” Wayne laughed heartily. Yulia joined in with neighing laughter. Seeing this, Abin raised its head and howled without stopping. Add the owl skeleton wheeling overhead and shrieking mournfully, and it was a full-blown villain gathering—villainy had truly come home. Before long, the second Spirit of Vengeance summoned by Wayne found its way through the sewers. Looking at the scene before it, it felt a chill of sorrow. How Abo had longed to become a superhero himself! “Abo, what's that look? Did you just climb out of a toilet?” Wayne raised his arm, and Axue reluctantly perched on it, its pair of pitch-black eyes fixed on Abo. It had gained a further understanding of the Death Knight's hidden assets. The Death Knight had cultivated one servant after another. There was no way he was doing it out of boredom. Given the scale of his ambitions, it was very likely for the purpose of slaughtering Londan's nine million citizens and creating a second Great Underground Catacomb. “My great master, Abo has come at your summons.” Abo stepped before the warhorse and respectfully knelt on one knee. Nearby, Abin let out a low growl. It did not much like Abo. The latter was too ungrateful, pretending to be respectful to his master while hiding selfish intentions. Were it not for the contract that prevented betrayal, this thick-browed, big-eyed fellow would certainly have led a rebellion. Hah, humans! “How goes the investigation? Have you put your brother behind bars?” Wayne said from above. “The evidence collected half a year ago was destroyed. Some witnesses have chosen silence for this reason or that. The investigation and evidence gathering are very difficult. It may take a while longer.” Abo said bitterly. “Tell me about it.” “Roughly...” Abo revered justice and fairness under the law, worshiping it like a deity. But the world contained more than law. There was also money and power, especially the latter. When power made its transactions, the law chose to turn a blind eye. The case investigation was very slow, especially the evidence-gathering stage, which could be described as difficult. Many decisive pieces of evidence had been erased, and Abo had to start from scratch. The councilwoman seemed to have gotten wind of it. Knowing she was haunted by an evil spirit, she spent a great deal of money hiring several mages of unknown origin and dismissed the gangsters who had served her all along. “Wait, what did you say that gang was called?” “The Black Snake Gang, a dark force that has risen only in the past two years. Their boss is quite clever and has always served the councilwoman.” Abo said honestly. The financial backer behind the Black Snake Gang was Doreen Johnny, a rising star in politics and a councilwoman who had transferred from newspaper reporter. According to Abo's investigation, Doreen had a superior. She used the Black Snake Gang to kidnap young girls and send them to her superior, exchanging them for her current political status. They truly deserve to die! White flames flickered in Wayne's skull. Even with Shadow Nightmare in hand, he only dared to imagine how he would deal with those magical girls. Yet these social trash with human faces and beastly hearts, with a little power, lost all sense of who they were. Did they really think darkness would cover all crimes, that there were no superheroes in the dark? “Abo, write down the list of people you investigated. Lead the way. I plan to visit them tonight.” “Master, you intend...” “Kill them all. My great sword has been hungry for far too long. I want to see rivers of blood.” “...” So this wasn't a case of dark powers preying on each other and stealing their business. That was truly wonderful. Abo put on an expression caught between laughter and tears. “My master, they are not worthy of your personal intervention. Give me a little more time, and it will soon be...” “Soon there will be new victims.” “But, but...” “The Goddess of Death I worship greatly appreciates these villains and is prepared to take them under her wing. What I must do is send them before the Goddess of Death.” Wayne cut him off directly. “No buts. Don't lecture a god about human laws. That may be your insistence, but the gods don't care.” After saying that, he gave a cold snort. The fantasy of doing evil was set aside for now. Imprisoning magical girls could wait; there were plenty of opportunities. Tonight, the Death Knight would become a hero in the dark and fight violence with... violence... Wait a moment! Wayne: (皿) Wait, that's not right. Following this logic, he shouldn't be the Death Knight—renaming him the Dark Knight would make more sense!