Chapter 34 Memory Crystal Inside the crystal ball, he saw a book…

The knights were numerous, and each one was incredibly powerful. Unlike Benson and his group, who had gained combat experience fighting monsters in the Devil's Forest over the past two weeks, the members of the Holy See had all received professional training and would periodically venture into the outskirts of the Devil's Forest for further training.

Their battle didn't last long, and the knights' advantage gradually became apparent.

Benson gripped his broadsword and swung it sharply, knocking his opponent's weapon off balance and sending him staggering back several steps due to Benson's strength. Seizing the opportunity, he turned to his back and shouted, "Run! I'll cover your retreat!"

The group hesitated for a moment, then immediately stopped fighting and retreated while fighting. Once they found an opportunity to escape, they turned around and ran towards the camp.

Their strength was far inferior to that of the knights; if they stayed, even more people would perish here.

Benson alone could not possibly withstand so many knights, but the Devil's Forest had a complex terrain and dense vegetation, and Benson's greatsword was positioned across the narrow path with too little space to the side, making it impossible for the knights to get around him. This gave the others some time.

As everyone fled back to camp, the others who remained at camp heard the noise and rushed out.

Seeing that the returning hunters looked disheveled and carried no prey, the people who came to greet them immediately felt a chill. They had already suspected that something must have happened during the hunt, but no one had the courage to point it out first.

Lucas glanced around the crowd but couldn't spot the familiar figure. His voice trembled as he asked, "Where's Uncle Benson?"

The tall man leading the group lowered his head, his lips pursed. He remained silent for a long time before speaking, his voice choked with emotion: "We encountered people from the Vatican... Uncle Benson... he covered our retreat alone so we could escape, and in the end, he... he was captured by them!"

At noon, the dazzling sunlight shone on the cathedral in the center of Verander, casting a faint golden hue on its pure white exterior.

In the corridor, the pointed arches on one side divide the sunlight into segments that fall onto the ground, baking the marble floor until it is scorching hot.

Just then, a group of knights escorted a man slowly toward the courtroom. The light from the ground rippled across them like waves, one patch of it brushing against the man's eyelids. The glare might have made him dizzy; he glanced at the lawn outside the corridor, then turned his face away.

The group walked through a long, circular corridor before finally arriving at the gates of the Inquisition. The monk standing at the entrance glanced at them, his gaze finally settling on the knight commander at the head of the procession. The monk raised his hand to his chest, bowed slightly to him, and then opened the doors of the Inquisition for him.

The man being escorted hung his head, looking listless. The knight commander frowned and gave him a push from behind. The man staggered forward a few steps before regaining his balance and entering the courtroom with the knights.

Sunlight streamed in through the enormous stained-glass windows, casting dappled light and shadow over the entire courtroom. Tiny dust particles floated in the air, adding to the solemn and sacred atmosphere of the courtroom.

The bishop, dressed in a long robe, stood in the center of the sunlight, his entire face blending into the light, making him indistinct.

After tying the man to a nearby pillar, the knight commander bowed to the bishop and withdrew. Once the courtroom doors closed again, the bishop approached the man, his gaze sweeping over his face: "What's your name?"

The man was parched from not having drunk water for a long time. He swallowed, barely moistening his throat, before slowly speaking, "Benson... Benson Evans."

“Benson Evans…” The bishop chewed on the name for a moment, then looked down at Benson, whose head was bowed. “What brought you into Devil’s Forest?”

Benson raised his head, stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly grinned: "I'm thirsty."

The bishop glanced at him indifferently, but still had a monk beside him pour him a glass of water.

Benson was suspended from the pillar by both hands and unable to move, so the monk had to step forward and feed him water from a cup. After drinking three cups of water, he finally let out a comfortable sigh.

"Can we talk now?"

Benson lowered his head and hummed a tuneless song under his breath, as if he hadn't heard the bishop's words at all.

"Heh, it's fine if you don't want to say." Upon seeing this, the bishop sneered and turned to walk behind the table on the side.

A few minutes later, he took several items out of the container and returned. As he got closer, Benson saw that he was holding a silver base in his left hand, on which a crystal ball rested steadily, while in his right hand he held a purple crystal.

The bishop noticed Benson's gaze. He didn't explain what the thing was, but simply pressed the purple crystal into the groove of the base.

Instantly, a soft white light burst forth from the crystal ball. Benson, standing beside him, only lasted a moment before falling into a deep coma, appearing as if he were asleep. A few seconds later, clear fragments reappeared in the crystal ball, showing what had happened after he entered the Devil's Forest.

The bishop stood aside, carefully observing the images.

At first, his gaze was calm, as if he didn't care about those fragments. He figured that a few ordinary humans couldn't even defeat a group of knights, so they wouldn't cause much of a problem in the Devil's Forest. However, just to be on the safe side, he still needed to use the memory crystal to take a look.

But slowly, the bishop's brows furrowed, and his eyes sharpened.

Inside the crystal ball, he saw someone who shouldn't have been there.

"I remember the Vatican archives contain information and portraits of sacrifices from various dynasties?" The bishop turned to look at the monk beside him.

"Yes, Bishop."

"Go and get the latest edition."

The monk bowed and withdrew, while the bishop stared intently at the fragments still replaying in the crystal ball, his eyes deep and unfathomable. Only his curled fingers slightly betrayed the turmoil within him.

The monks moved quickly and returned shortly with the latest volume of sacrificial records. The bishop carefully turned to the page with the most recent record; the portrait on it was exactly the same as the woman who had flashed in the crystal ball.

The bishop's face immediately darkened: "It really is her! Go and inform the archbishop immediately, tell him the sacrifice is still alive!"

The monk was shocked upon hearing this. The latest offering to the Tree God had been thrown into the Demon Forest two months ago! If she were still alive, then the Tree God…!

The bishop stared at the crystal ball, his words carrying a chilling aura: "The sacrifice must die!"

-

When Catherine woke up, it was already close to evening.

She simply propped herself up on her hand and turned to the side, and instantly every inch of her body was filled with a dense, aching pain, reminding her of what had happened yesterday.

Catherine: …………

Monsters in heat are terrifying, especially those that have been holding back for days.

She sighed and finally decided to rest in bed for a while before getting up.

There was a rustling sound coming from below, and soon Tarasco appeared at her bedside. He had obviously heard the commotion and came to check.

“I’m hungry…” Catherine turned her head and said in a wronged voice.

Her voice was hoarse, and it wasn't hard to imagine the "torture" she had endured last night. Tarasco couldn't help but recall her cries on her own carapace last night.

Feeling the breathing in the air gradually become heavier again, Catherine widened her eyes and looked over accusingly.

A rare hint of guilt flashed in Tarasco's eyes before he turned and climbed to the top of the cave.

Night always falls quickly in Devil's Forest. As the last rays of dawn are swallowed up, the aroma of roasting meat wafts from outside the cave. The firelight reflects off the cave walls, and the warmth seems to seep into the cave itself.

Catherine rested her chin on her hand, looking towards the cave entrance, waiting for Tarasco to finish grilling the meat.

As time slowly passed, the aroma of cooked meat filled the entire cave. Tarasco used his walking legs to cut off roughly the amount that Catherine had eaten, and then cut it into smaller pieces to bring over.

Having not eaten all day, Catherine's stomach was rumbling in protest, but for the sake of her stomach, she restrained her eating speed and slowly stuffed the roast meat into her mouth.

When Tarasco brought down today's food, it was quite far away, and Catherine couldn't see clearly what kind of beast it was. Considering that he never seasoned the meat he cooked before, Catherine assumed that this time would be the same as before, preparing to eat only for survival, and had very low expectations for the taste.

When the meat was put into the mouth, it had a sour taste similar to plums that hit the taste buds first, and then a sweet aftertaste followed after swallowing the meat.

The taste is actually...not bad?

Catherine couldn't help but pick up another piece of meat and put it in her mouth.

This time, she chewed carefully for a while before swallowing, and discovered that Tarlasco still didn't add any seasoning. The sweet and sour taste actually came from the meat itself.

Catherine recalled that she didn't seem to have eaten the meat of such a ferocious beast before. Lost in thought, she couldn't help but take another piece and stuff it into her mouth.

Seeing Catherine happily eating piece after piece, Tarasco silently made a mental note of the roasted wild animal.

It seems she likes to eat this... Hmm!

Because the meat was freshly grilled and still very hot, Catherine didn't take it all away. Instead, she placed it all in his hands, taking one piece at a time after he finished eating the other.

Before he knew it, Catherine had eaten the last piece of meat. As she took it away, her soft, warm fingers unconsciously brushed against his, causing a slight tickle that sent Tarasco's thoughts drifting off into the distance.

He couldn't help but look down at her.

Seemingly sensing Tarasco's gaze, Catherine raised her head.

"Um?"

She tilted her head in confusion, and a small part of her cheek was pushed up because she hadn't finished eating the meat. It looked soft and seemed to feel very nice to the touch.

Tarasco's hand twitched slightly...

"fine."