104: Facing the night fog

Chapter 103: Facing the Night Mist

As night fell, white mist churned under the moonlight.

On the city wall, Commander Jafar gripped the saber at his waist.

The Baron of Qingfeng Valley had not lied; the Night Mist had indeed arrived.

The eerie mist, like a living thing, slowly approached the fort.

Amidst the night wind, terrifying screams were faintly intermingled.

The commander noticed the fear on the faces of the soldiers beside him.

They all nervously stared at the mist.

The priests of Mother Earth, led by Juan, stood fifty yards to his left.

Letizia stood beside him, overlooking the city gate, surrounded by several Bastet priests and Bending Blade dancers in battle robes.

The Bull Family soldiers had always been superstitious.

Initially, they were unwilling to let these Bastet priests get close to them.

Aside from their differing beliefs, they also felt that it was unlucky for women to appear in war.

In their eyes, these so-called priests and Bending Blade dancers should have been in the red house for their pleasure.

But they overlooked one thing: the women who served them were merely fanatical followers of Bastet.

It was only after the Bending Blade dancers subdued four or five challenging generals that these soldiers changed their minds.

As a Calimshan native, Commander Jafar did not venerate women.

But he knew very well what kind of women should never be provoked.

Moreover, he was happy to see Quartermaster Itmar’s subordinates suffer.

While he was pondering, he saw the Quartermaster walk quickly towards him.

“Where is that Baron who said he could dispel the Night Mist?”

As soon as he approached, the Quartermaster questioned him without ceremony.

The commander focused intently on the approaching Night Mist; he hadn’t seen Arthur for quite some time.

Ever since Arthur returned to his station, promising to appear after the Night Mist, he had vanished.

“He will come.” There was a hint of annoyance in the commander’s voice.

“Are you sure?” the Quartermaster pressed, “If he doesn’t come soon, we’ll have to consider retreating to the church.”

“And just hand this fort over to the enemy?”

The Quartermaster frowned: “When day breaks, we’ll come out again. If there are still any lingering undead creatures, we’ll—”

Letizia, who had been looking out at the city gate, interrupted: “He’s here.”

Hearing this, both men leaned closer to the edge of the city wall.

Below, the city gate had opened, and the young Baron, clad in a priest’s robe and holding a glowing scepter, slowly walked towards the Night Mist.

The guarding soldiers also couldn't help but lean towards the edge of the city wall, looking down.

Everyone from the Pioneer Group was gathered behind the city gate.

Believers prayed loudly, warriors gripped their weapons, and Drax, Godwin, and others stood at the front of the line.

After the city gate closed again, completely obscuring Arthur’s back,

Drax couldn’t hide his unease and asked, “Is it really okay for Sir to go out alone?”

Godwin comforted him: “Trust him, Drax, trust our Lord.”

The exiled noble was also filled with unease.

But he understood that at this moment, they had to remain calm.

Amidst the soldiers’ exclamations, discussions, and prayers on the city wall, Arthur completely disappeared into the Night Mist.

It was like passing through a curtain of a waterfall. One second, Arthur could still feel the surrounding smells, sounds, and colors.

The next second, all he could feel was the bone-chilling cold.

He steadied himself and vigilantly looked around.

Behind him, through the thin mist, he could still see the not-so-sturdy walls of Lookout Fort.

Arthur exhaled, and the power of the ley lines contained within the Holy Tome began to envelop him, gradually melting the frost on his body.

Not far away, a faint blue light flickered continuously.

Something was approaching, and the constantly flashing light seemed to possess a magical power, drawing him forward.

The world within the mist had changed; he saw a pitch-black sky, pure and without a single blemish.

Stars appeared, twinkling in the clear night.

A bright moon arced across the sky, its light clear and brilliant.

Arthur lowered his head; the grass beneath his feet was lush and showed no trace of being polluted by the Night Mist, emitting an aroma like crushed herbs.

“Do you like this world, human?”

A voice came from in front of him, echoing in the warm night breeze.

Arthur looked up and saw a strange figure.

It had a hunched, lifeless face, with a narrow snout protruding from beneath slanted eyebrows.

Tiny eyes gleamed black, embedded in folds of gray skin.

Its bulging eye bags were tight and shiny, covered in black blood vessels.

Its hands hung like an ape’s in front of its body, almost touching the ground, and its back was bent into a steep arch.

A long, black-purple robe hung precariously from its back, looking like a chaotic pile of rags.

The monster heavily leaned on a twisted long staff, on which hung a blue-glowing lantern, whose light now seemed so warm and inviting.

This creature appeared very weak and fragile; its voice was hoarse, with phlegm and congealed saliva.

Aside from its bright, savage eyes, it looked almost dead, or rather, it might already be dead.

“What are you?” Arthur asked.

The Holy Tome in his hand still glowed green.

Only the light was much dimmer than before, as if the earth was emitting a sickly aura.

The monster walked towards him step by step, each movement seeming to cause it pain.

“I am the Guide,” it said. “And what are you? Why haven’t you been assimilated yet?”

Arthur carefully scrutinized it; every nerve in his body urged him to act, to charge forward and strike this abominable thing.

But his limbs were unusually heavy.

To buy time for recovery, he replied, “I am the Son of the Wolf, the Baron of Qingfeng Valley, a follower of Mother Earth.”

“No, you are not.”

The monster laughed, but its laughter was quickly covered by violent coughing.

“I know your name, human,” it said. “I know it better than you do.

“I know where you come from, and I know what your destiny will be.”

The deadly binding sensation on Arthur’s limbs grew stronger, and he bent his body, carefully observing the monster’s approach.

The two emotions of surrender and submission fiercely struggled within him.

“How interesting,” he said. “A madman once told me the same thing.”

The monster stopped, standing a few yards from Arthur.

Up close, Arthur could see the rotting pustules on its body.

They swelled angrily, ripe as if they could burst at any moment, red like raspberries.

Saliva dripped from the monster’s rattling mouth, thick and viscous.

A nauseating stench, a mixture of sour and fecal odors, emanated from beneath its tattered skirt.

“Don’t you want to know your future, human?” It coaxed, like a prophet in hero novels. “They might surprise you.

“You will discover what great deeds you will accomplish, you will know your place in this decaying world, you will see your future!”