Chapter 22

Miel dispersed most of the Touch of the Abyss, leaving only a finger-thick one, which he let drill into the keyhole of the iron cage, forming a key that fits the keyhole perfectly. After it became hard, he twisted it to the right.

With a "click", the iron cage opened its huge mouth and spit out Rocas from its stomach.

After leaving the cage, Rocas was finally able to stand up straight.

Miel found that he had many old scars on his body. It was obvious that being a slave was not easy.

Rocas ignored his gaze and put on his clothes, tidying himself up. Then he bowed to him again and said, "My respected master, how can I help you?"

"Eat something first, then follow me." Miel said, turning and leaving.

As soon as he took a step out, he was stopped by a man in another cage: "Hey...what should we do?"

Miel paused and responded without turning his head: "I said, I will notify the church to arrange a place for you. Until then, please wait here patiently."

"I also want to be your servant...is that okay?"

"Sorry, I just need a follower."

After leaving these words, Miel left the room that made him uncomfortable without giving the other party a chance to continue speaking.

Rocas followed him silently, holding a piece of bread in both hands, eating as he walked, trying not to make any noise.

After leaving the dark and narrow room, Mier returned to the room full of corpses.

He had not yet had time to obtain the spoils of the battle, and he also wanted to see how Rocas would react to this scene.

To his surprise, the moment Rocas walked into the room, he didn't show any special reaction except that he paused eating bread.

He stared silently at the hellish scene before him for a moment, then suddenly quickened his pace in eating. He finished his bread, gulped down his water, and then spoke calmly, "Master, do you need me to help you search them for anything valuable... uh, important?"

"There's no need to get your hands dirty," Miel replied. "Just see what the Zhentarim have to offer."

"yes."

The three of them each looked around.

Miel found a chest of beautiful gems that could be used in magical rituals. Although he didn't need them when Cthulora was around, the gems themselves were valuable.

Cthulola was quite sensitive to magic and found a bag of enchanted rings, which she gave all to Miel.

Rocas was very interested in the weapons and armor in the corner. These things were exquisitely crafted and could be sold for a lot of money even if he couldn't use them himself.

He first changed into more fitting clothes, then put on a set of brown leather armor, then put two daggers on his waist, and finally, he put on a backpack of appropriate size.

Miel watched his skillful and quick movements, as if he understood why he could ignore the corpse.

"You...were a wanderer for a while?"

The Liye continent is full of various dangers. For the people of Liye, being a worker, a businessman, a priest, or even a lord are all side jobs, and fighting is their main job.

Before losing his magic power, Miel was a wizard like Bros., and now he is a warlock.

Father Tyndall is a priest and Sister Siesta is a paladin.

——Yes, these role positionings that divide combat methods are the true profession and identity of every Liye person.

The reason why the Akunila family is noble is indeed because of their bloodline, but it is not because their bloodline is rare, but because they are born with extremely high magical talent and are natural high-level wizards.

After all, the underlying culture of this continent is the survival of the fittest. The only difference from the jungle era is that people live a more decent life.

So, what should people who have no magical talent, no strong physique, and are not favored by any powerful being do?

They cannot be mages, warlocks, priests, paladins, bards, warriors, rangers, monks, barbarians, druids, or warlocks.

They were left with only one option, the Wanderer.

Make up for the lack of combat talent by using covert actions to strike directly at vital points.

Use your nimble fingers to reach into your pocket and solve your financial problems.

All professions look down on rogues, thinking they are weaklings and rogues who win by trickery.

All classes hate rogues, especially when they suffer financial losses or are defeated in combat.

But no one has ever thought from the perspective of a wanderer: how can a weak person survive in this dangerous continent?

"Ah..." Rocas turned to face Miel, his pointed ears drooping guiltily. "No one wants to be a slave. I tried to escape. I learned to pick locks on my own, but... I have no one to rely on. I have nothing. Because I don't want to sell my body, I can only do some petty thefts... But I swear, I don't know who to swear to, anyway, I have never killed innocent people. I admit that I stole their things, just things..."

He lowered his head, his body tense, and was visibly worried about his future.

Maybe it's because he finally met a good master and doesn't want to be kicked out because of his job.

Miel finally understood why the Zhentarim wanted to strip him naked. It wasn't to allow customers to better inspect the goods, but to prevent him from using anything to pry open the cage lock, even if it was just a piece of cloth.

I also understand why he didn't react when he heard the sorcerer. If he were to meet Cthulhu, he would definitely sign a contract with the great Old Ones without hesitation and use this power to reverse his cruel fate.

Miel admitted that before today, he had prejudices against wanderers, but before he signed the contract with Cthulhu, he might even be worse than this group of people.

Miel handed him a gold ring inlaid with a ruby.

Rocas raised his eyes cautiously, questioning his intentions with his eyes.

Miel explained: "This is an enchanted ring. When it senses a magical attack, it will automatically deploy a shield to protect you."

"Give it to me?" Rocas raised his hand and pointed at himself in disbelief.

Miel nodded: "You are my follower. If you die, I will be very troubled."

"Thank you, thank you..." Rocas was flattered to take the ring and put it on his left index finger. Then he tentatively confirmed, "Master, do you mind that I'm a dirty wanderer?"

"Do I look like I mind?"

"No, it's just... nothing."

"If you have anything to say, just say it. I won't eat you."

"I was just wondering, since you're so noble and have better choices for your entourage, why did I have to receive such an honor?" Rocas lowered his eyes uneasily. "I'm a slave who has had several masters, a wanderer who makes a living by stealing. My life is a mess. Only my face and figure are decent..."

"...I'm not interested in your body." Miel took a step toward Xulolora to show his refusal. "There's no particular reason. If I must say, I feel more at ease using a half-elf who can't use magic... You're not the only one worried about what I might do to you. I'm also afraid of what you might do to me."

"Huh?" Rocas looked up in surprise.

Miel turned her eyes away from his face.

Because you are my half-brother, a victim of Bross's theft of his magic pool just like me, I can't just leave you alone - perhaps I will never be able to say this in my lifetime.

Miel turned his back to him. "I don't need anything else. Take whatever you like. You can sell it and keep the money. And don't touch those dangerous alchemical fires."

"Yes! I will follow your orders, my respected master."

…

After Rocas had looted the items in the room, Csulola directly used a portal to teleport the three of them back to the church.

Miel was surprised that he had actually kept an eye on the church door. "Mr. Lola, that's very thoughtful... But how did you know we would come back here?"

"I suppose you don't want to spend the night in Akunela's mansion?" Czulola responded.

"Indeed." Miel smiled.

Miel entered the church and found Father Dindel, telling him about the underground base of the Zhentarim. Father Dindel replied, "Okay, I will take care of it," and then he organized people.

Rocas went to take a bath. He didn't know magic and could only rely on the facilities of the church.

Miel and Csulola returned to the dormitory where they had lived.

Almost the moment he stepped into the room, Miel lost all his strength and fell forward.

Czulola skillfully reached out and easily pulled him into her arms, then held him horizontally.

Miel collapsed in his arms like a fish out of water.

"...It's a side effect of accelerated movement," he explained.

After the effect of the magic of accelerated movement ends, the body will be extremely tired. It is incredible that he can still maintain consciousness now.

"I know. What else? Because you were struck by the truth you were pursuing so hard?" Csulola carried Miel to the bed, her movements so gentle that they could even be called careful.

"Your spirit is not that fragile," he said.

"Really? I clearly said my mental state is dangerous..."

"Dangerous, but strong, like a strong bowstring stretched to its limit, you think it's going to break, but it keeps stretching."

"Thank you for the compliment, but..." Miel put his arms around Czulola's neck to stop him from getting up and leaving.

He didn't want to cry in front of Rocas, so he held on until now, but it was already his limit...

"My father, I once regarded him as my only support, but in his eyes, I was just a walking pool of magic..."

Miel desperately wanted to talk to someone. Perhaps talking to the tentacles of the great Cthulhu was not a good idea, but he had no other choice. He could not talk to Rocas, nor did he want to talk to Father Dindel.

He didn't want to show his vulnerable side in front of people other than Cthulora. After all, in the eyes of most people in Snow City, he was an elegant noble, a high elf, and the heir to the Lord of Snow City. He could be arrogant, even tyrannical, but he should not be weak, pitiful and helpless.

After staring at the fragile elf beneath her for a while, Cthulola gave up and left. She picked up Miel again and sat on the bed, letting Miel snuggle in her arms: "You talk, I listen."

Miel's hand touched his uncovered chest muscles, but he didn't bother to savor the elastic feel.

"The only difference between me and Rocas is that my mother is Miphiel, a high-ranking ice elf like Bross. If I hadn't inherited this iconic silver hair and blue eyes, would I also be locked in a cage now, naked, with everyone looking at every inch of my skin..."

"No." Cthulora responded in a low voice.

"Why?" Miel couldn't think of a reason for "no".

"Because I will kill everyone before then." Cthulora spoke calmly in his low and sexy voice, speaking cold and dangerous words. "Anyone who sees you like that will not be able to see the sunrise tomorrow. As my agents, if they blaspheme you, they are blaspheming me. I will let them know the price of blasphemy. And the first one I will kill is Bross."

At this point, he reached out and pinched Miel's chin, forcing him to look up and look at him: "So, tell me, are you ready to kill Bross?"