Chapter 383 Thanks
Yialos returned at about the same time as Maxline had predicted. The next afternoon, after a brief lull in the snowstorm, the sound of horses' hooves breaking through the ice and the soldiers' restrained cheers could be heard outside the camp—supplies, huge quantities of supplies piled on sleds.
The leading knight was riding a horse, his tall figure shrouded in a thick cold-proof cloak. His only remaining left arm loosely held the reins, which was covered with metal armor, reflecting a dazzling light under the snow.
He was in his prime, his features somewhat plain, but his restrained and solemn aura gave him an air of authority without even anger. The knight dismounted swiftly, his movements showing no sign of the sluggishness of losing an arm, clearly having adapted to the situation. His mount snorted, puffing out white mist, and stamped its hooves nervously before the adjutant, who had followed closely behind, took the reins.
"General Yialos!" Several logistics personnel who had been waiting for a long time came forward. Yialos nodded slightly in return. He quickly scanned the camp. When he noticed Leon Cliff and the others, who were not dressed like soldiers of the People's Army, his gaze froze for a moment, but he quickly looked away.
"We also have a batch of medical and winter supplies," the Knight Commander said in a low voice, with undeniable force. "All food must be counted and stored. Once clearly organized, it will be distributed. No withholding is allowed. Violators will be subject to military law!"
"yes!"
"Goodness, Yialos, you've got quite a haul this time!" A female voice suddenly appeared behind Yialos. The Knight Commander turned and glanced at her, only to see the red-haired girl casually lifting a bulging sack of rye, a weight that would have taken two people to lift. Under the horrified gazes of several soldiers who had never seen her before, she easily weighed it with one hand.
Her face was filled with unconcealed joy, like a little girl who had received a favorite gift. She looked bright in the cold snowy field, and looking at her made people feel inexplicably better.
"...Ms. Marceline." The Knight Commander nodded gently and politely.
"You came back just in time, well done!" Marcylin gave him an exaggerated expression of relief. "If you were any later, I would have considered robbing the Second Legion!"
Yialos: “…”
He shook his head helplessly, not getting angry at the joke which was actually a bit offensive.
The Knight Commander looked around again, and when he didn't see any familiar figure, he frowned slightly.
"Where's the Ghost?" he whispered to Marchline.
...That guy is as curious as a cat. There is no reason for him not to come out at the first opportunity to check out the possible new spoils from the front line.
Upon hearing this, the joy on Maxine's face faded considerably. She glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, then quietly leaned over and whispered to the Knight Commander, "Don't mention it. I'm sick. I've been coughing recurring these past few days."
Yialos's frown deepened upon hearing this. He was silent for a moment, but ultimately resisted the urge to inquire about the patient's condition. Judging by their reactions, he knew he wasn't going to die. He thought indifferently, "This evil has lived for a thousand years. It's not his turn to worry about him."
"Here's the supply list." He pulled out something carefully wrapped in tarpaulin from his pocket and handed it to Maxine. "In addition to the regular food and medicine, there are some... special things. I've marked them separately. Perhaps Ghost will be interested."
He paused, then added in a low voice, "It involves... the sea god Odileus."
Suddenly hearing the familiar divine name, Maxine froze for a moment, then subconsciously touched the divine seal on the back of her hand, hidden by the bandage. For years, it had remained silent, like a real tattoo, but she knew the Sea God would never let her go so easily.
But she still didn't open it and examine it immediately. Instead, she stuffed it into his arms and said, "Such important information, you can pass it on to him yourself. The professor will be very happy."
Seeing a subtle, reluctant expression on his face, the red-haired girl helplessly explained, "Since he's asked you to participate, that proves there's no need to hide all this from you. Why are you actively avoiding him?"
Yialos: “.”
Could he say that he didn't want to see the ghost's gnashing, creepy face?
Just like a person who has nearly drowned will not want to sail into the deep sea again for a long time, he cannot take revenge and can only obey orders obediently. He is often forced to weigh and question his loyalty and conscience in his heart by a few casual words from others. He feels so aggrieved that he is about to explode, and his stomach hurts when he sees people - if he can't afford to provoke him, can't he just avoid him?
But this reason is too...frivolous, and does not fit the style of the usually mature and steady Knight Commander.
Yialos took the oilcloth bag without saying a word, feeling gloomy and feeling that it was heavier than before.
...Just think of it as being for Her Majesty the Queen, he convinced himself in his heart, although he knew he was just deceiving himself.
Marcylin looked at the face that looked like it was about to be executed, and raised her eyebrows subtly. But she did not expose it, and instead led her people back to the camp.
"Come on, don't stand here in the cold," she said, carelessly patting Yialos's shoulder with such force that he stumbled. "You must be exhausted from the long journey back. Finish your work quickly, and let's go get some hot wine to warm yourself up!"
In the tent in the center of the camp, the air was warm, even dry, and filled with the faint bitter aroma of herbs. The ghost was wrapped in his small blanket, huddled quietly in a chair, looking weak and harmless, even a little pitiful.
But Yialos knew it was all an illusion. Having worked under him for several years, he had come to understand that he was a devil, skilled at exerting extreme pressure and even more skilled at manipulating people's hearts.
He took a deep breath and stepped in. The pair of bright, smoky-gray eyes suddenly looked up at him sharply. Yialos froze for a moment, but still bowed his head and said respectfully in a deep voice, "...Mr. Ghost, good day."
"Good afternoon." The black-haired young man said lightly, his eyes swept over him, turned around to Marcylin who followed him, and then turned to him again: "Why, has the situation changed?"
"We got some news from the people of Ferros." Yialos said briefly, placing the oilcloth-wrapped object gently on the table.
Azuka, who was standing by, took it first and handed it to the professor after confirming that it was not dangerous.
Someone pulled out a stack of intelligence and quickly flipped through it. The air seemed too silent. The Knight Commander hesitated for a moment, then explained uncomfortably, "While clearing out the enemy's supply base, we discovered the bodies of a group of mature male slaves. It seems they hadn't been moved yet. The image is captured in the photo stone."
He took a step back, and the image was suddenly projected into the void.
It was in the lee of a snow-covered valley. A corner of the coarse felt sheet dragged out by the Limin Army soldiers was peeled back, revealing a chilling sight beneath: dozens of adult male corpses neatly stacked together like lumber awaiting processing. They were naked, their skin a grayish-white. Their chests, backs, and even their scalps were covered in twisted black and red lines, as if they had been forcibly cut with a knife while the men were still alive. The method was so crude and brutal that it was simply terrifying.
"These bodies were hidden very deep. If it weren't for the unexpected collapse, we wouldn't have discovered them." If you listened carefully, you could hear that Yialos's voice was a little tense. "This is a very typical Sea Temple sacrificial method. Nowadays, only the most extreme Sea Temples would do this - but why are these Feroth people worshiping a god whose beliefs are completely different from theirs?"
The ghost remained noncommittal, staring blankly at the sickening image. "Did you take close-up photos of all the patterns?"
"Yes." Yialos manipulated the photo stone, and as the picture progressed, the distorted lines became clearer.
"These oracles are written in the ancient language of Ferros." The Knight Commander paused, then added, "If you allow me, I will assign someone to translate and decipher them separately."
"No need, I can understand it." The black-haired young man tapped his fingers lightly on the table. Yialos was stunned for a moment, then he suddenly remembered that this man was a theologian. Studying the history of theology was his forte. He must have dabbled in various languages - not to mention this man.
The professor suddenly looked up at the red-haired girl standing beside him with an equally serious expression. "Has your divine seal reacted in the past few days?"
"No." Marcylin thought carefully again: "Quiet, just like before."
Nova narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "This is an attempt to imitate the Poseidon Temple to please the Sea God Odres, or perhaps a way of expressing sincerity. The carvings on the skin aren't oracles, but prayers of gratitude. Judging from the location where the slave's body was found, it was probably intended to be thrown into the nearby sea. They hid it so well because they were worried someone would discover that the Great Shaman, revered as a god by the Feroth people, wasn't actually a god, and that they were offering sacrifices to another god."
After a long string of words, the black-haired young man coughed a few times, panting a little, but he still insisted on making an extremely harsh comment: "I just don't know if the sea god Odile can understand it. He is not a particularly cultured god."
Hearing this, Azuka chuckled softly, and Maxine also couldn't help but laugh, but Yialos was the only one who remained silent.
Two years ago, during the Blooming Conference, Ghost had explained the truth behind the so-called "Divine Seal" to him in a letter from the Royal City. The letter burned after reading it, and the Knight Commander sat in a daze all night amid the swirling ashes, finally understanding the source of all the strangeness that had befallen His Majesty Esmery.
At that moment, Yialos felt the worldview he'd cultivated since childhood completely shattered. A lifetime of theological training had taught him to revere the gods, but his dignity as a knight overrode that reverence, and he unhesitatingly defended his lord.
...Poseidon. The Knight Commander closed his eyes, carefully savoring the nausea that was surging within him, a feeling bordering on blasphemy.
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