Chapter 413: Simple Folk Customs

The doctor quietly grasped the musket in his pocket due to the vague observation. Roald knew that the "Emerald Staff" was also paying attention to this incident.

Aside from the Bretonnian cities renowned for their romantic past across the Old World, few places are as popular with the followers of Slaanesh as Middenheim.

Roald didn't want to conflict with them. Most of Slannis's cults were related to rich people. Roald was just a doctor. Those important members of the "Emerald Staff" who developed in the upper class only needed a nod to make him suffer.

If the Knights of White Wolf City were to be withdrawn from the front lines again, I'm afraid they would dare to kill Roald directly.

The doctor is more afraid of the "Sons of Ulric" than this cult.

This is an open cult, and the White Wolf Knights will not even cleanse them, because the god worshipped by the "Sons of Yurik" is Yurik, the God of the North, but they are still adhering to extreme doctrines.

There are always some fools who think they are the descendants of Ulric left in the world. Those brutal White Wolf priests are not as extreme as them. In this civilized era, tricking wolves into attacking humans to test their courage is no longer worthy of praise.

Only those who think they have courage are willing to take the initiative to trigger this trial and go alone in the wilderness to find and hunt winter wolves to prove their bravery. Their worst outcome is to become a "martyr."

Even the current Middenheim officials are afraid that the "Son of Ulric" will create martyrs. Roald does not want to be the unlucky guy chosen by the "Son of Ulric" to undergo the trial.

They always like to target "warriors" who travel at this time. The worst thing is that even if someone dies, the rulers of Middenheim will only reprimand them.

The law prohibits the extreme worship of the "Son of Ulric", but in Middenland, this is not as effective as prohibiting the dwarves from drinking. At least the dwarves will tell the person who made the law in person that this is bullshit.

Some of the more extreme "Sons of Yurik", such as the "Blood Bearers", even dared to attack the Church of Yurik. Only those priests who could perform divine magic and who they believed were favored by the god Yurik could escape disaster.

To Roald, this was simply ridiculous. In Rick's territory, these people would have been killed by the army long ago.

As a Reiklander, he could not understand the locals' admiration for brutality.

He was afraid of being mistaken for a Sigmar and then being attacked by Ulric's fanatical followers.

With trepidation all the way, Roald successfully left the cemetery at midnight.

He walked on the newly built street, actively avoiding any object that made noise, whether it was a night patrol guard or an unknown drunkard.

There seemed to be the roar of wild beasts deep in the sewer. The doctor didn't want to pay attention to this. Perhaps an unknown cult led the beastmen underground in the city. As long as they didn't come up to attack Roald at this time, the doctor was willing to pretend that he had never heard the echo from underground.

Middenheim is an open-minded city. It can accommodate wild wizards who are not from the Imperial Magic Academy, extreme organizations of all sizes and various ideologies, and naturally, a small group of beastmen.

Of course, it can only be underground, the city guards are not there to just sit there and do nothing.

Roald returned safely to the hotel where he was staying. The pub was still open and some people were still drinking.

The pub owner was a gentle middle-aged man. Newspapers and books were not common in the pub.

Perhaps he had finally found a sober person, and he complained to Roald about the drunkard who was sleeping soundly on the table, and from time to time he took the opportunity to express some personal political views.

At least Roald could not see the "inaction of the Middenheim authorities" or the "tragedy of the poor people" from a few drunkards.

This damn guy is a millennialist and should be out on the streets giving speeches to the guards so he can get a response instead of just being ignored by passers-by.

Goddess Verena would hide her face for these foolish worshippers who always like to throw out complicated conspiracy theories, discriminate against the ignorance of the general public, and claim to speak for the masses.

Apparently, in Middenheim, these extremist followers of Verena who thought they were influential were just delusional.

With a stiff smile on his face, the doctor perfunctorily said goodbye to the speaker in the pub and ran straight to his private room on the second floor.

His room was on the side closest to the street, and the only tenant living next to him was a strange man.

The well-spoken lady spent most of her time staring out at the street in a daze, and Roald preferred to believe that she was in deep thought.

After unlocking the room gently, the doctor returned to the room, cleaned it briefly to prevent anyone from tracking him by scent, and then fell asleep.

Between half asleep and half awake, Roald was guided by an invisible force and left his body.

Like a grandchild supported by his grandfather, Roald obediently followed the guiding force and floated into the next room.

He looked blankly at the lady sitting on the table in meditation, and the letter spread out on the table by the mysterious woman.

By the light of the lamp, Roald could see other names written on the letters, and he recognized some of the knights among them.

Clearly, these were not letters addressed to this lady and they were opened without permission.

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After the woman read the letter, she just gently touched it and the opened letter returned to its original state without leaving any trace.

After reading more than a dozen letters, the woman began to hurriedly write down the important contents in a record book. After finishing everything, she waved her hand and a crow flew in from the open windowsill.

The force pulling Roald disappeared, as if reminding the doctor what to do next, but in his confusion, he could not react directly. Instead, he stared blankly at the lady with an elegant temperament.

It was not until the woman tied the letter to the crow's legs, sent the crow away, and glanced suspiciously at the open space where Roald was that he suddenly shuddered.

He hurriedly floated towards his room and escaped into his body as if escaping for his life.

“Bang…Bang.”

Three subtle, consecutive knocks on the door woke Roald up from his sleepwalking adventure.

The bone-chilling coldness foreshadowed the impending doom. Undoubtedly, the figure that Roald dreamed of was a sorcerer.

Perhaps he should simply embrace the core of the Tirian Society, rather than lingering on the outside and only acquiring the superficial medical knowledge of the society.

At least that would give him the power to resist at this time.

It's too late to regret now.

In the central mountains, dawn brings relief to those who have not seen the sun for a long time. Ironically, there is only darkness in the shadow forest, and the cursed town brings them back to the light.

(End of this chapter)