Chapter 185 Changes
As the day of the ancestral ceremony approaches, the festive atmosphere in the streets becomes increasingly intense, turning it into a sea of flowers and joy. Regardless of their wealth, housewives rush to buy food, and even the poorest families have to eat well on the ancestral ceremony.
A large number of flowers, some about to bloom and some still covered with dew, are in full bloom in Port Morris. The vendors, wearing thick cotton gloves, carefully trim them and place them in gilded vases on the street. The winter snow has not yet completely melted. These delicate flowers mainly come from greenhouses where the temperature is maintained by formations. They are shipped thousands of miles from the Batalha Highlands and are very expensive. One flower is worth ten days' worth of black bread for a dock worker.
The most eye-catching of these was the Golden Lily float of the Radiant Church. Crafted from pure gold, it sat in the central square, gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. Pulled by twelve snow-white horses, it rode along Emerald Avenue toward the Church of Light. Along the way, countless flowers and hollow crystal lilies, each blazing with jet, adorned the parade route with dazzling brilliance.
The previous bishop of the Glowing Church of Port Morris, Galen Lagasha, was taken away by the Royal City Church for investigation and has been missing ever since. His successor was ambitious and determined to achieve something significant. This day of worship was the perfect opportunity to recruit believers and showcase their achievements. The Glowing Church decided to hold a grand ceremony. Before the day of worship officially began, the white-robed priests took to the streets, distributing holy water and blessing the believers to the cheers of the crowds.
But these "gifts" had nothing to do with the Crimson Bazaar. A Glorious Knight's feet would never tread on filthy, vile ground. Beneath the white-robed priest's feet, Port Morris's vast drainage system stretched in all directions, emitting an unbearable stench. With the dull, hollow sound of water, Graven and the Nameless Ones wore heavy expressions. The sewage had already reached their ankles, soaking everyone's trouser legs, but no one had the time to care.
Negotiations with the Temple of Night had stalled, and what alarmed Greven even more was the appearance of the Scarlet Duke. Why had he suddenly appeared in the East Docks? Was it pure coincidence, or had the news leaked?
Moreover, the supervision of slaves in the Bloody Market has suddenly become stricter than ever in recent days. Even this rally was only possible after they had gone through a lot of trouble. The situation was not good, and an ominous premonition was lingering in everyone's heart.
"The person who leaked the information was 'Ghost'?"
Ashes' voice was terribly low and hoarse - the behavior of the "ghost" that suddenly appeared was too suspicious, so it was no wonder that he was suspicious of people.
"Who else could it be?" another slave said anxiously. "A sudden outsider. Greven had just revealed the details of the negotiation, and then the Bloody Duke suddenly appeared—"
"No." Greven shook his head slowly. "I don't think it's him."
It's not just because of this person's true identity, but also because there is no need - if the other party wanted to destroy them, there is no need to go through so much trouble and spend so much effort.
A voice suddenly broke the silence: "The distribution of armed forces has changed. The East District and West District have each added at least fifty new armed personnel."
With the sound of chairs being dragged and clattered, all the Nameless Ones stood up in shock. Greven, the only one who remained seated, saw his pupils shrink. With his abilities, he hadn't noticed when an ordinary person had appeared among them—he didn't even bother to investigate how the other person had found such a top-secret meeting place.
The ghost that everyone was discussing just now appeared among them. The black-haired young man looked indifferent, and from his facial expression, it was impossible to tell whether he had heard the slaves' suspicions about him.
"This time, on this day of the divine sacrifice, the armed forces of the Bloody Bazaar will be far greater than ever before." The man casually pulled out a stack of blueprints, spread them out on the wooden table, and got down to business without a word of greeting. The dim oil lamp flickered above his head, casting countless overlapping, towering shadows that seemed poised to swoop down and devour him at any moment.
"Someone leaked the information," the black-haired young man said firmly, tapping the blueprint with his knuckles. "The Bloody Duke wouldn't show up in the East District for no reason. He must have gotten some intelligence."
——Although the plan was interrupted by an unfilial son, the slaves and the Temple of Night were not caught red-handed.
"Who was the contact person before the Gold Market?" The smoky gray eyes were as sharp as knives, staring at everyone with unusual coldness, as if wanting to dig out all the shameful secrets.
"This has nothing to do with you." Ashes frowned and refused coldly - the implication of this person was that there was a traitor among the Nameless Ones.
"You don't have to believe me." Despite being ruthlessly rejected, the other person didn't get angry. Instead, he said calmly, "But the situation is very serious right now. If we don't want to die without a complete corpse, we'd better be honest with each other."
Those eyes seemed to see through everything. Although it was clearly a threat, he made it sound like a prophecy: "In other words, you have no choice."
Greven was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on the black-haired young man's face for a few seconds before he suddenly spoke slowly, "The contact person at the Gold Market is 'Pigeon', a slave who will be offered to Duke Kamu."
The handsome blond boy, once a minor noble, ended up in the Red Market due to family changes. On the night when the thugs transferred the slaves, he cried and begged them to save him.
The brown-haired young man stared at the blueprints on the table and said in a deep voice, "We promised to rescue him and set him free once the mission was accomplished. But just ten days ago, Pigeon's communication method suddenly stopped. I wonder if he had an accident."
There are very few slaves capable of entering the Gold Market, and even fewer who can act as liaisons. That's why Greven is in a hurry to find a new contact, but he ends up provoking a certain big devil.
"Betrayal, whether intentional or not." The black-haired young man nodded coldly and made a decisive conclusion, leaving no time for anyone to think: "Next question."
The ghost's cold and ruthless attitude was somewhat unacceptable to the slaves. However, as he explained, their expressions quickly grew more and more solemn. If his speculation was correct, then the entire Nameless Army was practically exposed to the Bloody Duke's eyes.
A feeling of despair spread among the crowd.
"What should we do?" A slave suddenly collapsed, covering his face with his hands, his eyes trembling nervously. "Time is running out. We will die, we will definitely die..."
"If you do as I say, you won't die." The ghost's voice was extremely calm, as if soaked in ice water, making people calm down involuntarily.
"The day of worshipping the gods is coming soon, and there will be many distinguished guests. The Bloody Duke will not act rashly. According to the original plan, our men will first start a riot in the Rusty Iron Market, kill the slave traders, and release the detained slaves. However, the Bloody Duke is now highly vigilant within the market, so it is inappropriate to target the Rusty Iron Market."
Everyone gradually fell silent, with only the black-haired young man's voice echoing unmistakably through the pipes. "Look, the two main forces have surrounded and blocked the front and back entrances of the Rusty Iron Market, like a man stretching out his fists, exposing his vulnerable chest."
Greven's face gradually showed surprise: "...The Church of Light?"
"To be precise, it's the Emerald Avenue from the Cathedral of Light to the central square." The professor gave him an approving look and nodded. "Jet is flammable. Even a little use of it can cause enormous chaos. It can also prevent anyone from using it to power magical tools within the forbidden magic circle. The warlocks of the Church of Radiance will then be no different from ordinary people, greatly alleviating the pressure. The feasibility is quite high. The attention of all of Port Morris, including the Scarlet Duke, will be drawn to it."
His fingers moved on the blueprint: "By then, our real goal is-"
Ashes, who had been listening intently, suddenly realized and said, "The warehouse in the Bloody Market!"
This is the black market, with weapons, medicines and forbidden magic tools.
The ghost frowned and said with some dissatisfaction: "That's right, but don't interrupt me."
ash:"……"
——What an arrogant guy!
"It's feasible." Greven frowned. "But we're already short on manpower. If we disperse further..."
"I brought helpers." The other party said lightly, as if he had expected it.
The shadow behind him suddenly twisted, and the darkness expanded hideously, gradually gathering into a human shape in the open space.
A young man with black hair, brown skin, and a cold expression appeared silently behind the ghost, his arms folded across his chest. Somehow, Greven felt that the man's eyes seemed unfriendly.
"Shadow Chaser?!" Ashes beside him suddenly took a step back.
As an "old man" in the Crimson Market, he had also heard about the feud between the Crimson Duke and his son. Greven's expression was also slightly gloomy, and his muscles immediately tensed up vigilantly.
——Danger. If the mysterious blond warlock was like the unfathomable ocean, then the man in front of him was like a cold blade silently pressed against his neck.
Ole glanced gloomily at the familiar face: the tyrant's most loyal general, what a narrow road for enemies. He remembered that the other party had killed many of his brothers on the battlefield. Now the situation has suddenly changed - the assassin sneered and was about to sneer at the man, but when he turned his head, he suddenly met a pair of cold and clear smoky gray eyes.
Use your brain before speaking, the eyes narrowed dangerously, warning him.
Ole: “…”
He tutted his words and looked away reluctantly, feeling inexplicably sour in his heart - look, he hasn't subdued the other party in this life yet, and he's already protecting him.
Over there, the tyrant was still negotiating with someone. Ole listened in silence, then, with a strange mix of emotions, he realized that this person's conversational style was just as oppressive as before. While not as profound as in his previous life, it was no less dangerous. If he weren't in such an absolutely dominant position, he doubted he would have been beaten.
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