Chapter 105: Failure

  Ethan pointed at the old pastor and stammered, "You... you're not dead?"

  "I wouldn't die even if you did." The old pastor glared at Ethan with his piercing black-and-white eyes and spat.

  "I... I even came back to avenge you..." Ethan had no idea whether he was shocked or overjoyed. Although his appearance was completely different, this old pastor's tone of voice, his mannerisms, and most importantly, the special magical aura he had faintly sensed when he broke through the wall—this old pastor was unmistakably Sandro. As for that face, Ethan knew it must be another mask. This old fellow never ran out of tricks.

  "I didn't expect you to be so loyal. In that case, if someone kills you in the future, I'll avenge you too." Sandro chuckled, reached up, and peeled off a lifelike mask from his face, revealing a familiar yet unfamiliar face. He had to shave off his beard to wear the mask; it turned out that without the beard, there weren't many wrinkles on his face, and he didn't look very old at all. He shouted into the corridor, "Everyone, come on in."

  The Duke's face was as ugly as it could get. Although neither Ethan nor Sandro showed any sign of vigilance, the sword in his hand remained motionless. It wasn't that he didn't dare, but that his will to fight was already gone.

  The storm of aura in the corridor had subsided, disappearing as abruptly as it had appeared. Commander Roland straightened his body; his sword had never left its sheath. Only now could others see that his forehead was covered in sweat, and he even looked a bit weary. Just now, as he had bent over, on guard with his hand on his sword but not drawing it, he hadn't seemed like a living person.

  Commander Roland glanced back at the corner, sighed with great effort, as if he had just finished a hundred-mile run. He didn't say a word and walked straight into the room. As he took a step, a clattering sound came from under his feet; the marble floor where he stood had somehow shattered into pieces.

  From the corner behind Commander Roland came the sound of footsteps, and a tall, stern figure as imposing as a mountain appeared from there afterward. Although he had long known that the only person who could exude such an aura could be, and could only be him, seeing this person appear with his own eyes completely shattered the last vestige of hope in the Duke. This was Sedros's friend, Gru.

  Commander Roland walked into the study, nodded to Sandro and Rodhart, then looked at Ethan, and finally at the Duke. There was no expression on his face, nor was there a sharp, dazzling light in his eyes. But the Duke's expression was already beginning to crumble.

  Even now, the Royal Guards, who should have swarmed in, had still not appeared. The surroundings remained silent. The Duke's intelligence was enough for him to understand what all this signified.

  Gru also walked into the study. He didn't look at anyone, his cold gaze first falling on Commander Roland as he asked, "I gave you a chance to draw your sword just now. Why didn't you?"

  "Because there was no need." Commander Roland replied lightly. His hand, which had already left the hilt of his sword, was now gripping it again at some point. But he wasn't looking at Gru; he was scanning his surroundings.

  "You don't want to try?" Gru's eyes fell on the sword at Commander Roland's waist, and it seemed as if two black flames flickered in his deep, bottomless pupils.

  Commander Roland glanced back at him lightly, his voice still flat: "No."

  Gru's gaze swept over the faces of Ethan, Rodhart, and Commander Roland one by one, deliberately avoiding the Duke. Then he looked at Sandro and suddenly asked coldly, "You said everyone here is on the same side?"

  "I suppose so." Sandro nodded.

  "Then what about this person?" Gru's voice was already tinged with killing intent. But his eyes weren't on any person; they were on the nearby bookshelf. His gaze suddenly turned sharp, as if the wooden bookshelf, filled with books, was more lethal than Commander Roland. "Aren't you coming out? Do you want everyone here to force you out?"

  Everyone looked over, but there was clearly just a bookshelf there. The expressions of Ethan, Rodhart, and even Sandro were all ones of bewilderment. Only Commander Roland's expression remained unchanged; his hand stayed on his sword.

  "Getting old..." A strange sigh escaped, and under everyone's gaze, a figure separated from the bookshelf as if materializing from nothing.

  With the exception of General Gru and Commander Roland, everyone's face changed, especially the Duke's and Ethan's.

  Although this study was not small, it was by no means large, and its furnishings were not complex. It would have been impossible for even a cat to hide here without being noticed. Moreover, for the sake of secrecy, the Duke's study had no windows or even vents. This meant that this person had been here from the very beginning. The Duke's and Ethan's every move and word had been seen by him.

  It wasn't until this person left the bookshelf that everyone noticed the shadow in the corner of the bookshelf had faded slightly. He had actually merged completely with that tiny bit of shadow. It made it so that even if one was looking right at him, one wouldn't pay him any mind. Even Commander Roland had only felt a slight sense of him; only Gru had noticed.

  "Really getting old... To be noticed by two people... and even found out..." This person's voice was very strange, but it was also filled with a sense of frustration. This was a person wrapped entirely in a tight black suit, with a very small build and a golden skull mask on his face. Even after revealing himself, he seemed to be shrouded in a hazy, indistinct shadow, making it impossible to discern his gender or age.

  Ethan's face changed. He had heard this strange voice and seen this kind of mask before; the two Necromancers who had hunted him were like this. But their masks were silver, while this person's was dark gold.

  But Sandro seemed even more surprised than Ethan. His expression was extremely strange, just like Ethan's when he saw him. Pointing at this person, he stammered, "You? You... what are you... doing here?"

  This person looked at Sandro. The dark golden mask completely hid his eyes in shadow, only a flat tone discernible in his voice: "I heard you died and came here specially to collect your corpse. But it seems it was a wasted trip..."

  Sandro's expression was very strange, as if he were both a little happy and a little embarrassed, completely lacking his usual composure. Even his speech was a bit unnatural: "Thank you for your concern..."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "I'm not concerned about you. I'm just concerned about the things you took away. What if they were taken back by the people from the Guild after you died?" This person drifted toward the study door. "Since you're not dead, I'll be going back."

  "Stop." Gru and Commander Roland spoke at the same time. The two moved in unison, standing to the left and right of the doorway. The needle-like glares in both their eyes stabbed at this person.

  This person immediately stopped moving. Not because he was obedient, but because he could not move.

  There seemed to be no earth-shattering change in the study, and the surroundings were still unusually quiet, but Rodhart suddenly collapsed to his knees. His forehead was covered in cold sweat, and he looked at the three people at the study door with a pale face.

  Ethan was still standing, but his forehead also began to bead with sweat.

  If the earlier confrontation between Gru and Commander Roland was a storm, then the aura now filling the study from the two of them together was a pot of molten steel. It seemed deceptively calm, but the pressure within it was tens of times heavier and hotter. Almost every breath made one feel their lungs convulse under the weight of this imposing manner.

  "What are you doing?" Sandro stared at Gru and Commander Roland and shouted sternly.

  "I think you'd better explain." Commander Roland ignored Sandro, continuing to watch the person, his gaze like a sword. He asked lightly, "If you were really here to find old Mr. Sandro, why were you lurking here all this time? And this mask, if I'm not mistaken, signifies that you are from the Necromancer Guild. If you can't prove you're not our potential enemy, you won't be leaving."

  Gru did not speak. What Commander Roland said was what he meant. Even if they could remain on guard themselves, the lives of their monarch and their friends would be as precarious as an egg hanging from a hair in the hands of someone with such a high level of stealth.

  Now, with two against one, it was undoubtedly the best time to eliminate such a dangerous person. Both Gru and Commander Roland understood this.

  "Don't go too far." Sandro's eyes widened, and a sudden burst of light fell upon Gru and Commander Roland. The auras of the two men immediately fluctuated slightly. Seizing the opportunity, this person merely flashed and drifted into the corridor, then in the next instant, melted into the corridor's environment like the keenest chameleon and disappeared, leaving only a sentence that faded into the distance: "...Rest assured, I've long since grown tired of being anyone's enemy. I was hiding here just because I wanted to help this kid out and save his life."

  Commander Roland did not chase after him. He sighed, turned to look at Sandro, and said, "I'm sorry. This person is just too dangerous. If there's a chance he could be our enemy..."

  Sandro's gaze and expression also returned to normal, even seeming a bit disheartened. He sighed and murmured, "Don't worry. He's like me; he lost interest long ago in your conspiracies and all that bullshit about state affairs. He probably really did just come to collect my corpse this time."

  Gru turned his head to Ethan and said, "I didn't come in earlier because I sensed there seemed to be another person here. I couldn't figure out if they were friend or foe, so it wasn't a good time to act. I had to let you find a way to make the first move, and then I would look for an opportunity. But I never thought he was originally planning to help you too." He revealed a rare smile. "It seems your business venture this time was a loss. You went to so much trouble to convince us to help you, only for it to be unnecessary. Even if you had returned to the royal capital alone, it would have been a false alarm. There were so many people here waiting to help you."

  Ethan let out a long breath, shook his head, and said with a wry smile, "It's not a total loss. At least it seems my objective has been achieved."

  Gru said flatly, "I don't care what your objective is. But since you're not dead, you must do what you promised us."

  "Don't worry, I never renege on my debts." Ethan gave a wry smile. "Especially a debt of gratitude to you."

  "It seems there's nothing for me here. I'll go find that Wyvern first." Gru gave the Duke a cold look, and threw out an even colder sentence. "Anyway, I suppose this person won't be able to live, right?"

  With this sentence, the Duke's spirit completely collapsed.

  He was not unaware of his own death. When Sandro and Commander Roland appeared together, and Gru also revealed himself, he already knew he had no chance of turning the tables. Death was inevitable. What he couldn't accept was failure, and such a thorough, messy, and baffling failure.

  A few minutes ago, he still felt like he was the master of this world, with everyone under his control and manipulation. But just a few minutes later, he discovered that the one being controlled and manipulated was himself. He had just stood there, watching these people talk and discuss, with almost no one even glancing at him. It was only Gru's final sentence that made it clear: in the eyes of the victors, he was now irrelevant, no different from a dead man.

  If this failure was just bad luck, or a momentary lapse on his part—if Commander Roland had only seen his flaw by coincidence, if the old Necromancer had only survived by luck, or if the appearance of Gru and that mysterious person was truly unexpected—he would have felt much better if any one of these factors had led to his defeat. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Anyone could see that everything that happened here was not a coincidence; it was all planned and arranged long ago.

  His own arrangements were merely a part of someone else's plan. After so many years of strategizing and commanding the winds and clouds, it turned out he had only arranged for himself a supporting role as a failed clown. Words like "pain" and "despair" could no longer describe the Duke's state of mind.

  The Duke slowly sat down powerlessly. Everyone and everything he saw now, including this ducal mansion, everything began to collapse, rot, fall, and die. He said in the weakest voice of his life, "Why is it so quiet around here?"

  Even now, the surroundings were still deathly quiet. Not only the Royal Guards outside, but not even a single servant from the ducal mansion had appeared. It was as if the place had suddenly turned into a haunted house.

  "They have all left, by your order, Your Grace the Duke." Rodhart answered. His voice was still as polite, humble, and concise as ever. "I told them that Your Grace the Duke and Commander Roland were interrogating a prisoner and that no one was to approach or disturb."

  The Duke closed his eyes and nodded slowly: "And then you waited outside, for me to say as much as possible to this kid, whom I thought was doomed, and then you came in to release him?"

  "Yes." Rodhart nodded.

  The Duke let out a long sigh and fell silent. He had completely lost the will to resist or struggle. Although he was by no means a weak man, there were two of the most powerful experts here. He didn't want to struggle futilely like a dog only to be pinned down and slaughtered. Besides, his will to fight had long since shattered, leaving not even a shred behind.

  Commander Roland and Rodhart watched the Duke silently without a word. Sandro seemed lost in thought, his mind clearly elsewhere. And Ethan didn't speak either; he knew there was no need for him to say anything now.

  After a long while, the Duke laboriously opened his eyes and looked at Commander Roland, saying, "Right now, I just want to know a few things. Will you tell me?"

  "Go ahead." Commander Roland nodded. He could see from the Duke's eyes that this man was completely broken.

  "Why are you with this Necromancer? Thousands of people saw you two fighting back then. At least I could tell that battle was not an act; you even lost over fifty of your men. Why were you able to team up against me later?"

  "Seeing something with your own eyes doesn't necessarily make it the truth. Isn't that so? Just like how you made the people of the Magic Academy see the murderer."

  That day, in the great house.

  "I've never liked beating around the bush either." Commander Roland flicked his wrist, and the hum of his long sword filled every inch of the great house. "Let's get to the point." He looked at Sandro and asked, "Who exactly are you?"

  "You came to kill me without even knowing who I am?" Sandro seemed a little exasperated. He frowned and thought for a moment. "But since it was you who came here looking for trouble with me, did something happen? Didn't Ronis know you were coming here?"

  "Bishop Ronis has been assassinated." Commander Roland looked into Sandro's eyes.

  "What?" Sandro's body trembled, and the magical power he had gathered dissipated completely due to his mental confusion. "This... how is this possible."

  This reaction was already a clear confirmation of Commander Roland's suspicion. Such shock could not be faked; actively dispelling his magic during their confrontation was more dangerous than just presenting his neck to the sword. So Commander Roland sheathed his sword and said, "Over a hundred people saw the murderer was the priest who was living with you. There was also a wanted order at the scene, personally signed by Bishop Ronis, stating that the priest was a spy for the Necromancer Guild."

  Sandro had not yet recovered from the shock. The appearance of the Commander of the Paladin Order, especially after he had already paid with the lives of three of his men, was certainly not just to tell a lie. He shook his head repeatedly: "Impossible... it couldn't be him... Besides, that kid couldn't have killed Ronis either."

  "I didn't think so either. And from the wounds on the Bishop's body and the situation at the time, it was indeed suspicious. I suspect it's a trap..."

  "Then why didn't you investigate it? Why did you come looking for trouble with me instead?" Sandro's voice was already frantic with anger.

  "Over a hundred eyewitnesses, and a wanted order in the Bishop's own handwriting. With such evidence and witnesses, there is no room for refutation. Even if it is a trap, there is no room to dodge or turn the tables. You are suspected by everyone of being a Necromancer, and His Majesty the Emperor has ordered me to kill any Necromancer on sight. So even if I have any suspicions, I have no reason not to carry out the order." Commander Roland reached into his robe, but what he took out was a teleportation scroll. "Although I've never heard Bishop Ronis mention you, his reaction during that previous Necromancer incident, and your reaction just now, have given me enough reason to believe that although you are a Necromancer, you must have had an extraordinary relationship with Bishop Ronis. Only if we join forces now do we have a chance to uncover the truth. This is a teleportation scroll to the Magic Academy; it's empty now. You should hide there for now, and then we'll contact each other privately."

  "There's no need to hide." Sandro took the scroll, turned back into the inner room, and brought out a mask. He ran a hand over his face, and all his beard fell away. Then he put on the mask, instantly transforming into a person with a completely different appearance.

  "It would be best to summon a few zombies or skeletons for me to kill. That would be less suspicious." Commander Roland reminded Sandro. "It would be even better if you could stage a corpse of your own. There are many people outside. If they see you fight me and be killed, it might be more convenient for us later."

  "Alright." Sandro nodded. "But you'd better be careful not to get killed yourself."