“Oh, how could that be? She didn’t hesitate like you when she made her move on those noble ladies.” Eli looked him in the eye again. “So? Do you still want me to do it for you?”
"No, I'll do it myself." Phil Gray made up his mind. What did this matter compared to improving his strength as quickly as possible? He would have to kill his enemies himself in the future, and he couldn't possibly let his companions do it for him just because he felt guilty.
Phil Gray took the dagger.
"This dagger doesn't get stained with blood. Considering your particular hobby, I'm giving it to you as a small gift to make up for my absence from the boss." Eli clasped his hands behind his head, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“I don’t have any special hobbies.” Phil Gray was speechless, though his rebuttal sounded so weak and feeble.
Upon arriving at the cemetery, Eli strolled around casually. Phil Gray had already severed the woman's hand at the entrance, and now he had dug a hole behind the last row of tombstones to bury the woman's remaining body, and placed a flower in it—a flower, of course, generously sponsored by Eli.
What kind of flower is this?
Phil Gray asked casually.
"Phoenix tail flower, a sincere and eternal love, a love that one can never forget until death." Eli's voice blew through the cemetery on the wind, and the pink petals unfurled their beauty.
Although we don't know what happened later, this woman's early life was truly pitiful. In the book, Anna was able to meet the carpenter who was waiting for her again twenty years after her marriage, but all she could see was the corpse of her beloved.
With a sigh, Phil Gray and Eli headed to the Cathedral of Life.
"How is it? Have those ladies woken up yet?"
Phil Gray pushed open the door and saw Morey sitting there in a daze, and Patrick talking animatedly with Ernest.
"Cousin? You're back so soon?" Patrick stood up in surprise.
“The ladies have all woken up and are perfectly normal. They said it felt like they had a beautiful dream about love, but they no longer like that fictitious little carpenter,” Patrick continued.
"What is Captain Morey worried about?"
"Is this really the end of it? I have a feeling that things have been too strange lately. This woman is determined to die, and her motives are still unclear. In addition, there was the bloody disaster before..." Morey rubbed his temples, seemingly worried.
Indeed, first the Blood Calamity swapped the Flower of Life, and then the Dream Cult bewitched the chosen ones. Both of these events happened within just a few days, which would have been almost unbelievable in the old city of Duer.
In short, it gives the impression that a storm is brewing.
"How's the investigation on the Crimson Catastrophe going?" Phil Gray asked.
"The bishop is investigating, but hasn't found any clues. Recently, they've been investigating people within the Church of Life. Without the help of insiders, it would have been impossible to successfully switch the Flower of Life," Morey said, then looked at Eli, "You were the winner of the flower show that day, weren't you?"
Eli gave him a knowing look.
Morey smiled.
“You’re all very promising young men. Thank you for today. Although this matter hasn’t been fully investigated yet, you will be well rewarded.” With that, Morey produced a large bag of gold coins and handed it to Phil Gray.
Phil Gray felt unworthy of the task, as they didn't seem to have played a significant role, and the mission was far too easy.
"If any further discoveries are made, we may need to trouble you a few more times."
“No problem, we’re at that inn in the center of the Peony District, it’s called the Dotz Inn. The ground floor is a tavern, you can come over for a few drinks when you have time.” Phil Gray smiled as he accepted the gold coins and put them into his spatial storage.
"good."
On the way back, Patrick was very excited, "Now we don't have to worry about gold coins anymore."
“Sorry, I should say I might need these coins to buy something, and I can’t guarantee how much I’ll have left,” Phil Gray said.
"Of course, you're the boss, and you can manage all the money. I have no problem with that. But you can't not pay my monthly salary of twenty."
Ernest replied, "My gold coins are all yours, I have no objection."
"What a good knight of mine," Phil Gray said with a smile, then turned his gaze to Patrick.
“I, I’m fine with that too, but cousin, could you please leave some money for us to pay for rent and food?” Patrick looked at him cautiously.
"Of course, I'll give it to you."
Phil Gray handed Eli and Patrick twenty and fifty gold coins respectively.
A cheerful song suddenly rang out from the carriage.
After returning to the hotel and having a quick dinner, Phil Gray went back to his room.
He took out the woman's right hand and placed it on the table. Because it had been stored in the spatial stone, the fair and delicate palm had not rotted.
He concentrated his divine power in his right hand and slowly uttered, "The Right Hand of the Dead!"
The black divine light continued to flow into the woman's palm, and her palm visibly changed. In no time, only a white glove remained on the table.
Before his eyes appeared the description of the gloves: "From the hands of the chosen one of the gods of dreams, these illusory illusions, though difficult to become real, can always deceive those who have feelings. Wearing them can create illusions, and the duration of the illusion is related to the target's mind, level, and experience."
He put on the gloves and found that they were just the right size for his right hand.
"Not bad, not bad. I wonder how well it will work?" Phil Gray smiled, but now was not the time to test it; they would have to wait for another opportunity.
Let's call these gloves "Daydream." Thinking about the skill the woman used in her lifetime, this must be it.
Would other people have the same effect if they wore these gloves? He thought he'd have to try it out when he had the chance.
"I wonder if that person at the trade fair can get his hands on anything really powerful..." Phil Gray thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
I had a good night's sleep.
A flock of birds, undaunted by the cold winter, perched on the windowsill of the inn, chirping and singing in the morning sunlight.
"Cousin, I have something to tell you."
The loud knocking woke Phil Gray from his sleep.
He opened his sleepy eyes and opened the door. "Is there something you need?"
“I got in touch with the family last night,” Patrick said excitedly.
"How is it?" Phil Gray poured a glass of hot water.
A misty haze enveloped his blue eyes.
“Father said that the Holmes family behind Wendell was indeed involved in the search for you, and now they want to support Wendell to ascend to the papacy. The Foster family also has the intention to side with them. Bishop Dominic, on the other hand, is remaining neutral and seems to support your return, cousin.” Patrick said in one breath, looking somewhat anxious.
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