129: resurrection

“Resurrection requires a complete body, and death must not have occurred more than ten days prior,” Kedas, the City Lord, said.

His fingertips traced the fatal wound on Edeline’s neck; the blood vessels severed by the dagger appeared bluish-gray under the holy light. “Her body must first be healed, her soul must willingly return, and she must not be bound by any outer planar entity.”

After I nodded in confirmation, the City Lord began to chant a prayer with three descending musical notes.

His fingertips began to glow with an emerald halo, and the healing energy manifested as a visible amber fluid.

Minutes later, the dagger wound on her neck began to knit new muscle fibers at a visible rate.

Then came the Resurrection spell.

As the material component for the five-ring Resurrection spell, the perfectly cut diamond began to dissolve in Kedas’s palm, turning into silver dust that seeped into Edeline’s body through her skin.

The priest's left hand rested lightly over the deceased’s heart, while his right hand traced the morning light lord Losanda’s sun holy emblem in the air. Each stroke caused the shadows in the cracks of the hall’s stone bricks to recede an inch.

As the one-hour casting time drew to a close, the vascular network beneath Edeline’s skin suddenly glowed with a mother-of-pearl luster—a sign that the spell was beginning to reconstruct her life system.

Fine beads of sweat broke out on Kedas’s forehead, and the rhythm of his prayer became hurried: “By light as guide, by blood as pact, lost one who crosses the river of the Astral Sea…”

When the City Lord’s hand finally pressed firmly on Edeline’s heart, violent coughing erupted accompanied by the Holy Light of Dawn.

The resurrected sorceress curled into a fetal position, the first sound from her newly formed throat carrying a metallic tremor.

A resurrected individual enters a four-day state of weakness, so Edeline’s new skin was noticeably paler than the surrounding areas.

“No spell-slot-consuming skills can be used within four days,” the City Lord warned, wiping his holy emblem. The silver threads on the hem of his ceremonial robe had faded to gray from excessive divine power consumption.

Edeline’s teammates were about to step forward but were stopped by the priest with his holy staff: “Those who touch her require a purification ritual. The resurrected body is extremely sensitive to negative energy for one hour.”

After Kedas, the City Lord, collected the wooden box containing 2,000 gold coins, Plum and the other priests took over the subsequent healing and purification rituals.

I then led him upstairs to check on the three captives.

I adjusted the force field trapping the three captives so that the inside could be seen from the outside, while those inside still saw only darkness.

Kedas’s Domain of Truth had also been consumed this morning.

After Randall completed the interrogation process for each of the three prisoners, my fingertips traced an arc in the void, and an invisible force field enveloped the prisoners like a spiderweb.

Their weapons, leather jerkins, chainmail, and armor were all stripped from their immobilized bodies by my nimble force field tendrils.

“You now have thirty heartbeats to tell us what you know,” I said, making the force field transform into a cold blade that pressed against their wrists. A viscous dripping sound immediately echoed on the ground.

Deliberately light footsteps moved around the cell, the rhythm of my boot heels on the “stone slab” synchronizing with the “blood drops.” “Of course, you can also consider leaving your last words for your families.”

I repeated this to each of the three captives.

As we closed the door and left, we heard the sound of throats gulping behind us, like the dying whimpers of trapped beasts.

“Before dawn, their psychological defenses will surely collapse,” I whispered on the spiral stone stairs. Moonlight streaming through the arrow slits fragmented our shadows. “Once your Domains of Truth become effective tomorrow, we should be able to extract information related to the bandits.”

As Kedas and the others’ footsteps outside the door had not yet faded, six adventurers, like a pack of wolves hunting, dragged the Holy Knight aside.

“Handsome Steward, you need to handle this.” Edeline’s chest nearly pressed against Randall’s arm. Her newly healed neck was still wrapped in a cloth strip soaked with ointment. “The Lord saved me from death, and Koudor’s severe injuries also mean he got a second chance at life.” She tilted her chin towards the dwarf warrior beside her.

The latter was lightly tapping Randall’s leg armor with the side of his warhammer, the metal clanging making me jump.

The dwarf suddenly tore open his blood-stained linen shirt, revealing a still-fading purple bruise over his heart: “My shield blocked the poison sting for the Lord!” His warhammer, embedded with gravel, thumped heavily on the ground. “According to mercenary rules, the payment for risking our lives should be tripled!”

Sword Saint Green’s longsword suddenly reflected the moonlight and stabbed towards the Holy Knight’s eyes: “But becoming a liegeman…” He twirled his sword and sheathed it, “I heard there’s higher compensation?”

The Northland Barbarian Grom suddenly slammed his gigantic battle-axe onto the ground: “The lives of us six are willing to be sold to the Lord.” His yellowish-brown pupils contracted in the shadows. “You go tell him, he’ll believe you.”

As Randall tried to retreat, he bumped into the Half-elf Bard Angel’s waist. His holy emblem chain became entangled in the gaps of his arm armor during his struggle.

“A Lord who owns his own mage tower at 10 years old,” Angel murmured softly, “He has a great future.”

Edeline’s body pressed against the Holy Knight’s chest again: “You said the Crown Law also teaches gratitude…” The human woman’s soft hand caressed his silver armor. “We just want to repay your kindness honorably.”

As the six people surrounded the Holy Knight and turned back, I saw a blush on Randall’s face.

“My Lord,” Randall began with his characteristic deep chest resonance, his left hand consistently pressed on his holy sword, which was never drawn, as if suppressing his untamed subordinates. “They are very grateful for your healing of their teammate today.”

Behind him came the rustle of the sorceress’s skirt, mixed with the medicinal scent of the blood-stopping herbs on the dwarf warrior.

My gaze swept over the wounds on everyone’s bodies and the fresh marks on their armor: “You are all my subordinates now, and furthermore, you suffered casualties protecting me, so I am obligated to heal you.”

Edeline suddenly spun around, lifting her star-embroidered robe. This exaggerated curtsy made the shaman’s waist pouch jingle.

“For you, it was a simple gesture; for us, it granted a second life,” she said, her neck’s magic patterns faintly glowing as she looked up, her newly healed skin shimmering with a mother-of-pearl luster. “We heard…” Her deliberately drawn-out words carried a honeyed probe, “that besides recruiting mercenaries, you are also recruiting liegemen. It is said that becoming your liegeman…”

The Sword Saint’s dagger timely picked open the money pouch’s drawstring, the clinking of silver coins crisp and pleasant. “For the same work, the reward can be even higher?”

“That is true,” I said, rotating my brooch, letting the gemstone’s gleam sweep over the dwarf’s action of wiping his shield. “However, becoming my liegeman…” I looked up and said, “you must first swear loyalty to me for life, acknowledging me as your master.”

Six breaths suddenly ceased.

The Bard’s hand unconsciously plucked a string, emitting a hum. The Barbarian’s axe handle scraped sparks from the stone slab, until the Sword Saint suddenly tore open his money pouch’s drawstring—the crisp clink of silver coins falling to the ground seemed like a signal. Everyone dropped to one knee on the stone slab: “We discussed it just now, and all six of us are willing.”

“I understand,” I said, hands behind my back, looking at the Holy Knight. “Lord Randall.”

The silver-armored warrior immediately brought his leg armor together as if under inspection, and the crown holy emblem on his breastplate glowed faintly: “My Lord, I am here.”

“First thing tomorrow morning, you will arrange the oath of fealty ceremony,” I said seriously. “Everyone has worked hard all day today; get some rest early.”

Everyone left content, and I also went to the second-floor bedroom that Old Hather had prepared.

Lying on the goose-down bedding, I thought before falling asleep: Old Hather at least arranged it to the standards of Feierde Inn.

Also, today was truly a long day.