Chapter 42 Blood
If Mosley Harbor during the day is a miraculous place flowing with gold and opportunities, then the Bloody Bazaar at night is a dark city filled with sin and desire.
Rare and exotic animals, slaves of all kinds, bizarre art, forbidden spells... as long as you have gold coins, you can find everything here.
No one knew the age or gender of the owner of the Bloody Market, but they all called him the Bloody Duke. This Bloody Duke was incredibly powerful, and the local church, nobles, officials, and celebrities all had inextricable ties to him.
In a hidden cell deep within the Scarlet Bazaar, Apatara smiled, though his eyes held no trace of laughter. "When Miller realizes the tracking spell isn't working, he'll quickly turn this place upside down. But if we teleport out of here, do you think the Dustless Light will immediately appear before you and me?"
Neither of them wanted to join hands with a guy who might push himself out to block the attack at any time to fight against a strong man of the intermediate Lord's Prayer level.
"Remove the tracking spell first," Saiken said coldly, using his foot to flip the man he suspected to be the Chosen One over. The black-haired young man was still unconscious, his pale face stained with dirt and blood from the ground.
"Be gentle," the priestess scolded, "don't break my little sweetheart."
Isn't this guy just an ordinary guy? Seken scoffed, thinking to himself that this bitch and the Glorious Church were just a smokescreen to hide the true Chosen One. They really thought he was a fool. But he said nothing outwardly. He only put on an impatient expression, urging the other party to hurry up.
Other people from the Temple of Poseidon were already hiding near the Church of Light, and he wanted to see what tricks this group of people were planning to play.
"How could I possibly dispel the Dustless Light spell in a matter of seconds?" The priestess glanced at him slowly. Seeing the high priest of the Sea Temple grow increasingly gloomy, almost on the verge of anger, she chuckled and waved at him, "Don't be impatient. I didn't say it can't be dispelled, but it will take some time—so don't be idle either."
Apatera pointed outside the thick iron gate. A faint clamor grew louder, gradually drowning out the previous absurd movements.
"Go and hold back the servants from the Crimson Bazaar and the white-robed members of the Glowing Church, or we'll just sit here and stare down Miller." The High Priest of the Sea Temple, sensing he was being tricked, had a murderous expression on his face. The Priestess glared back at him fearlessly, "Hurry up! I can't do anything to you, sweetheart. How can a grown man be so indecisive?"
The answer she received was the impatient sound of a door closing.
The small prison soon returned to silence. Apatera was silent for a while, then suddenly sneered, knelt down lightly, and placed the pale and handsome head of the black-haired young man on his knees. His fingertips outlined the other's eyebrows and eyes, as gently as if he was treating his lover.
"Analene, my dear." She took off the veil, closed her eyes, and murmured a prayer softly.
"I no longer need my feet,
Maybe eyes are no longer needed,
I only need to die humbly for you,
And you will rise from the snakes and roses
..."
As she hummed softly, those distant and not-so-distant beings swam like snakes toward this secret place hidden deep in the corner. The desire for money and power, the desire for lust, the desire for blood and revenge... endless desires infected this bloody land.
The few at the very top of the major temples all know that in this ominous century, when most gods have fallen into a deep sleep, only through sincere faith can the gods descend. The greater the number of believers and the greater the piety of the person, the higher the probability of success.
But Apatra knew that it was not faith that truly awakened the gods.
The priestess felt the divine seal on her neck begin to grow hot. Even through the thick wall, she could still hear the frantic screams and cries, the hysterical howls of laughter. Success was almost here. Soon, very soon, she would see her beloved Analene. She was almost in tears of joy, and trembling, she wanted to touch the cheek of the Chosen One.
But the priestess's fingers froze.
She met a pair of smoky gray eyes that were as cold and majestic as the moon from a desolate place.
The virgin Etilo fell down silently, and before the professor could react, someone grabbed her armpits and dragged her up.
"She is summoning the gods. It's too dangerous." Seeing the person looking at him with some dissatisfaction, Azuka explained calmly while trying to wipe off the dirt on the other person's face.
Now is not the time to confront the gods.
Seeing the person frowning and dodging his fingers, after ensuring they were steady, the God-Favored One released his grip, wandered around the room, and picked up a seemingly insignificant stone from a corner. Gently tapping it a few times, the "stone" actually cracked, revealing a delicate and intricate mechanical structure and magical patterns within.
"The photo stone. It seems that the High Priest of the Sea God Temple is not that stupid."
He chuckled, and with a flick of his finger, the delicate magic tool shattered into debris.
The commotion they had just made was too loud, definitely attracting the attention of any faction. The two of them weren't prepared to stay in this filthy, smelly cell for long. Azuka protected the professor as they made their way through the narrow, dark corridors, leaving the unconscious priestess behind.
"Are you familiar with this place?"
They were in the dungeons of the Bloody Bazaar, used to hold slaves. Along the way, there were tightly closed iron gates, from which faint wails and groans of pain could be heard. The route was so complex that even Nova had to study hard to memorize it. Yet, the other man led the way without hesitation, appearing to know the route well.
"Well, I've been here before, as a 'top-tier commodity.'" The God-Favoured One spoke calmly, without a trace of pain or humiliation in his tone.
Nova was following behind him and was a little out of breath. Hearing this, he slowly blinked his eyes.
...Indeed, just by looking at the other person's face, you can tell that it is definitely a high-end product.
"At that time, only Lamina and I survived from the entire clan. She protected me and I all the way to Graybridge Port. To avoid being discovered by the Saman family and the port navy, we quietly boarded a cargo ship, destined for Port Morris."
Perhaps in order to kill the long and boring time on the road, this person actually took the initiative to talk about his past.
"Lamina was seriously injured and has been in a coma. To pay for medicine and living expenses, I managed to make ends meet by doing odd jobs at the local Church of Light, which happened to be the church where Bishop Lagasha worked."
Nova immediately sensed something was up—and as expected, the other person continued in a storytelling tone, "The 'kind bishop' looked at me increasingly strangely. I had a bad feeling and planned to quietly leave Port Morris with Lamina. But I was knocked unconscious at the port, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself in the Crimson Bazaar. Later, I learned that a powerful noble had a preference for beautiful blond, blue-eyed young men and was willing to pay a very high price for them."
Although he lost his parents, the boy was still loved and pampered by his entire family. No matter how talented he was, he had never seen such a dark and despicable thing, and he paid a heavy price for his stupidity and arrogance.
“…”
"Don't worry. For some reason, I wasn't hurt. Aside from seeing some... disgusting things," the God-Favoured One smiled gently. "It's just that the death of Bishop Lagasha wasn't pretty."
It was at least hundreds of times more tragic and horrific than the death of his remaining tribesmen.
Azuka suddenly reached out and pulled the professor into his arms, sidestepping a group of guards who hurried past them. As the two were about to leave the dungeon and enter the trading area, the slaves' cries were gradually replaced by the chatter of the crowd.
"The original plan remains unchanged, but can we open all the dungeon doors now?" The professor, who was leaning against his chest in a rare moment of silence, suddenly asked.
The God-favored One lowered his eyes, his fingers unconsciously twisting the other person's hair. "No problem, but I can't guarantee the safety of those people in the future."
"No need. I just opened the door to create more chaos." The other party's answer was rational and cold: "Whether they survive depends entirely on themselves. This is not your responsibility. This is my decision."
The savior stared at the man with an unsettling expression for a moment, then suddenly softened. He brazenly lowered his head and nudged his nemesis's shoulder—only to be impatiently shoved away again. But the man wasn't embarrassed. He raised his arm nonchalantly, aiming it at the dark, deep dungeon corridor.
The howling wind swept in with unstoppable force, tearing the heavy iron doors apart like pieces of paper. The small space erupted in chaos. Nova, pinned to the side by his companions, watched as many people hurried in, hesitating at the corridor entrance. The servants who had entered the dungeon for patrol had long been torn to pieces. Now, no one dared to enter the realm of the terrifying hurricane that had appeared out of nowhere.
"Who on earth dares to cause trouble in the Bloody Market!" a man who looked like he was in charge shouted angrily.
The chaos caused by the killer crabs was already enough to make everyone anxious, but then the base camp also suffered a mysterious attack. The gate of the slave prison was covered with a magic circle set by a high-level sorcerer. The fact that it was destroyed so easily indicated that it was at least a powerful person above the Lord Prayer level.
A figure covered in a black robe walked out from the corner.
"...Why are you here?" The expression on the steward's face suddenly became complicated. The lingering anger was mixed with respect, nervousness and slight disdain, which made his facial features look a little distorted.
The visitor did not answer, but just glanced coldly at everyone present. The professor suddenly noticed that the person next to him paused in breathing.
"I met Bishop Miller of the Glorious Church on the road," the man said coldly. "He didn't notice me, but he was already coming here - who did you capture?"
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