In the sewers.
Wayne sat cross-legged, taking in the displaced four elements. His life essence remained stuck at ninety-five percent, progressing at an agonizing crawl.
As the culprit behind several elemental collapse incidents, Wayne had no idea that multiple churches had opened investigations into him. The Triple Goddess Alliance, the Holy See of the Heavenly Father, and followers of Darkness, Death, and even several evil gods were deeply intrigued by the consecutive collapses.
No proper mage could have guessed in their wildest dreams that the so-called elemental collapses were merely an apprentice mage inhaling far too aggressively. Relying on years of accumulated experience, they assumed a sacred or unholy relic had surfaced in Londan and its wielder was brewing a terrible plot.
Compared to the sudden appearance of the Death Knight, the mysterious mage causing elemental collapses posed a vastly smaller threat. The churches had not committed massive manpower to the matter, opting instead to wait for things to develop further, marking incident sites on the map to narrow their search.
Wayne's life essence was simply too absurd. The Book of Greed had elevated him to a concept far surpassing humanity, which also explained from another angle why the Lord of the Void refused to let him go.
The losses were simply too catastrophic!
The elemental space was of paramount importance, tied directly to whether the Lord of the Void could take another step up the ladder of life. He had to capture Wayne and refine him into an elemental space; losing years of accumulation in a single day was a price he could not afford.
Wayne, the protagonist at the center of it all, remained oblivious to the outside world. Squatting in the sewers, detached from earthly strife, he was determined to out-grind everyone.
He divided his attention, letting his meditation run on its own to throw the gates wide open for the four elements while directing his conscious thought toward a second minor goal: communing with nature.
This minor goal was immensely difficult—something many mages wouldn't dare contemplate. Being young and ignorant, Wayne boldly took on the challenge.
Cleverness stems from diligence; genius lies in accumulation;
Life thrives on toil; without seeking, what is gained?
The early bird stands rock-hard.
The sages had shown the way. Wayne firmly believed his repeated failures were merely because he wasn't working hard enough or pushing himself to the limit. Nature had surely been eager to commune with him all along; his own lack of ability was the sole reason he kept falling short.
Failure was not terrifying; what was terrifying was giving up. And Wayne refused to give up.
*Patter!*
*Patter! Splash—*
Sodden footsteps echoed from the distance. Resting by Wayne's feet, Abin pricked up his ears, letting out a low, warning growl from his throat.
Wayne opened his eyes, gave his head a shake to don the persona of the Death Knight, and stroked the dog's head to signal Abin to calm down.
Abo was one of their own; there was no need to bare teeth at him every single time.
Even so, Wayne was thoroughly pleased by Abin's fierce protective instinct. A wisp of magic leaked from his fingers, letting Abin lick away happily.
Abo came to a halt, gazing at Abin with pure envy. He wanted to lap it up, too.
To be clear, this was magic—a Spirit of Vengeance craved his master's magic.
"How is it? How was the case handled?" Wayne asked slowly.
"The evidence is conclusive, and the case has been officially closed. Now it's just a matter of following procedure..."
Abo gave a detailed report. Three days had passed since the Londan Police Department cordoned off the eight councilors' mansions. Several victims had received prompt medical treatment and were out of danger.
The bodies moved from the basements had been claimed by their families, confirming the specific death toll. Thanks to the involvement of special departments, the case had progressed at astonishing speed—so fast it was hard to believe this was the Kingdom of Windsor.
Yet precisely because of those special departments, the case received no widespread press coverage. The eight councilors were placed under investigation for corruption, and having collectively lost their minds from overdosing during a group orgy, they had been transferred to Red Leaf Forest Asylum for further interrogation and treatment.
Abo wasn't satisfied with this outcome, but he knew it was the best possible result. Some things were better kept from ordinary people.
"So, do you have any thoughts? Or rather, what inspiration did this incident bring you?" Wayne asked with interest.
"I want to help more people who suffer injustice."
"Oh? Aren't you afraid of exposing yourself and drawing unwanted attention?"
"I'm already dead. Now I'm not even afraid of dying—what else is there to fear?"
Abo shook his head bitterly. He did have something he feared, such as his girlfriend, Timmy. Officer Green had promised him that she would be arranged a clerical job in the station office.
However, Green could make no guarantees regarding Timmy's mental state. For Timmy to recover, Abo had to see her in person; even a phone call to let her know he was safe would do wonders.
Abo was deeply conflicted about this and asked Wayne how to resolve it. His master was all-powerful and could surely point him in the right direction.
Wayne: "..."
He was a dog-owning bachelor—a single dog in every sense of the word—and one who dreamed of two-timing three women at once. Asking him for relationship counseling was practically asking for death.
Wayne had no sensible advice to give, but he knew what Abo was agonizing over. He sneered, "Cut contact with her from now on. For her own good, take this opportunity to make a clean break."
"But..."
Abo's expression turned pained. "Two days ago, Perry was arrested on charges of complicity in my murder. She couldn't accept it, and her mental state is getting worse and worse. I'm afraid she won't hold out much longer."
"Heh. Since you've already made up your mind, why ask for my opinion? When it comes down to it, you just don't want to bear the responsibility." Wayne shook his head. Wanting both ways without taking responsibility—where in the world was there such a good deal?
"My master, it's not that I dare not take responsibility, but that I worry she will face mortal danger because of me, and I won't be able to protect her," Abo explained.
"Have you two slept together?"
"A few times..."
"Just a few?" Wayne curled his lip. Who was he trying to fool?
"Er..."
Abo lowered his head guiltily. Young lovers in the heat of romance found it normal to go at it a few times in a single night. Any more would have been pushing it; they had work the next day, after all.
"Did you break up?"
"No!"
"Any other questions?"
"None."
Having received his master's guidance, Abo seemed to have an epiphany and knew what he had to do.
He would go see Timmy and give her a long-overdue candlelit dinner.
Doing so might be selfish, and Timmy would inevitably be dragged into mounting trouble because of him, but that was how adults operated. Two opposing choices could both be right and both be wrong.
Only children wanted it all; adults had no choice!
"If you're done, get lost. Don't come looking for me unless summoned, unless you run into massive trouble you can't handle," Wayne said, dismissing his guest.
His primary objective at present was cultivation—growing as strong as possible by any means. If Abo wanted to help the weak and become a hero in the dark, Wayne was happy to indulge him; it was an outcome he welcomed.
When powerless, one could only dream of being a hero. But if one gained power and still only dreamed of being a hero, wouldn't that power be wasted? How would he differ from the scoundrels who possessed great strength yet used it solely to satisfy personal desires?
Abo did not leave immediately. "My master, many people have been looking for you lately."
"Who?"
"There are mages, and also believers of various deities—especially the followers of the Goddess of Death. They are extremely active, risking arrest and confinement in the asylum just to find you," Abo answered.
Abo remembered his master saying that the Death Knight worshipped the Goddess of Death, serving as her knight walking the mortal realm. Fellow followers of the Goddess of Death could be counted as their own, so he felt the matter warranted a report.
"What do the believers want with me?" Wayne rubbed his bald skull, having a rough idea of the reason.
Followers of Death and Darkness had been suppressed by the Triple Goddess Alliance, to the point that neither had established a church in Londan to this day, possessing only scattered footholds to covertly spread their faith.
The Dark Knight's arrival had granted followers of Darkness standing, leaving the followers of Death watching with green-eyed envy.
Now things were different. The Death Knight had arrived, giving the believers a pillar of support; they were itching to prostrate themselves before the Death Knight's pale legs.
Abo explained the situation, which matched Wayne's suspicions closely. The believers of Death had been suppressed too severely; they yearned to stand tall and preach the doctrines of Death out in the open.
Wayne secretly felt a headache coming on. Speaking of which, his impression of Death's followers wasn't entirely bad.
That was largely due to first impressions: the followers of the Goddess of Death were all cowards who valued their lives above all else. When Veronica pointed her little pistol at them, they had raised their hands in surrender in unison—a display of cowardice so absurd it was comical.
Setting that first impression aside, however, the faith of Death had little to recommend it. Its core tenet of embracing death, in particular, made it hard to feel any fondness for it.
His mature teacher had repeatedly drilled into him how terrifying the two evil goddesses, Darkness and Death, truly were. The Goddess of Nature was the chosen one, representing righteousness, selflessness, life, and benevolence.
Xifei: *Blah blah blah, buzz buzz buzz, nature is just so beautiful.*
Wayne: *You're all goddesses. Why should goddesses make things difficult for goddesses? Have some empathy. Don't become the laughingstock of the male gods—isn't being fake sisters good enough?*
His mature teacher's appraisal of the faiths carried heavy subjective bias, so Wayne only half-believed it. As a consummate pragmatist, he was willing to believe in anything as long as it proved useful.
The Free Mages Alliance put it well: faith makes one firm, religion makes one foolish. Never get too close to believers, or they will drag down a mage's intellect.
Believing a little was fine; believing unreservedly was out of the question.
At the same time, Wayne understood another truth: the same bread feeds a hundred kinds of people. Not all followers of the Goddess of Nature were good, nor were all followers of the Goddess of Death evil.
Expanded across the entire God-favored Continent, the picture grew even more complicated. There were no purely good or evil people in the world; everyone fought for their own interests.
How should this puzzle be solved?
Wayne rubbed his bald skull repeatedly as an image surfaced in his mind.
A classroom, one-on-one tutoring between teacher and student.
A death teacher clad in black robes revealed long legs, holding a pointer to a chalkboard that bore a single line of text: *Religion makes one foolish.*
Teacher: *See that? That's the key point.*
Student: *Got it. The board is so white.*
"My master, do you plan to meet with the believers? They are growing increasingly active. If left unchecked, I fear..."
"Make contact with them. Tell them it is the Death Knight's command to select a few representatives. Three days from now, at dawn, in the West District Great Cemetery, I will meet with them and convey the will of the Goddess of Death." Wayne gave a sinister chuckle. Thanks to the long-legged teacher's instruction, he already knew how to discipline this flock.
Having received his orders, Abo turned and departed.
***
The rest of the night passed without incident.
Abo met with his girlfriend, Timmy. Overcome by extreme grief followed by overwhelming joy in her fragile mental state, she fainted straight into her lover's arms.
In the second half of the night, Abo traversed the sewers, tracked down the active followers of Death, and relayed the Death Knight's command.
The believers were free to disbelieve, but if they missed the meeting in three days, they would bear all consequences themselves.
Just as Windsor's intelligence network was riddled with leaks, so too were the followers of Death gathered in Londan. Most came from the lower rungs of society and were defined by a complete lack of organization and discipline. Before word of the Death Knight calling a gathering could even spread widely, high-ranking officials from multiple churches had already received the news.
The riddle was about to be solved: the Death Knight would personally explain his purpose in coming to Londan.
For a time, everyone was waiting for dawn three days later.
Chapter 73