The prison slave stood in the middle of the street in front of the church for a while, and then the Knight of Light and a dozen of his men rode on their horses.
All the knights dismounted, and the commander went up to the prison slave, his voice muffled: "Miss Prison Slave, four corpses have been found in the valley southeast of the plain. My men have just brought the bodies back from there. Would you like to take a look?"
"No need to look, tell me the identity of the body," said the prisoner.
The commander hesitated for a moment and said, "Judging from their armor and weapons, they should be the Dark Knights."
Hearing the word "Dark Knight", the prisoner's expression changed a little. She lowered her voice and asked, "Have you found out who did it?"
The knight sent over searched the area and found no one else. One of the four riders' horses was cut in two, and the other three were gone. They looked carefully, and the forest had a lot of hard ground and thorn bushes, so they did not trace the hoof-prints." "But at the scene we found a helmet that looked like it had been deflated by an axe." The commander paused. The commander waved to the knight behind him, and one of the knights ran over in small steps and handed the severely deformed helmet to the prison slave.
The prisoner did not take it, but just glanced at it casually and frowned.
"Besides, we found three horses not far from the scene. One was also cut in two, and the other two were in the woods along the riverbank, with the REINS tied to small trees."
"Really? Can you find any clues from the horse?" "Asked the prisoner.
The commander replied, "The horses in the valley have no distinctive features, but the horses on the shore..." He deliberately lengthened his voice. "The saddles of the two horses on the shore have the sign of the Knight of Light."
"The two of them again." "The prisoner said.
"From the scene, there should be one more person besides the Dark Knight and those two. Although it's not certain that the Dark Knight was killed by those two, I'm certain that those two were also involved in the incident. Perhaps the two of them are now with another unidentified person."
The prisoner nodded.
"Miss Prison slave, then what shall we do with those two men?" asked the commander.
"If we see them, we must catch them and bring them to me. I still have things to deal with. You examine the Dark Knight's body carefully to see if you can find anything else." Having said that, the prison slave walked into the cathedral's door.
But the knightly commander remained in the same place, his mind in turmoil. Finally, I got the prison slave's consent to the order to hunt down the white-haired man. I could have taken revenge on him, but I couldn't help being afraid. The white-haired man was no less skilled than himself, and this time he had two more helpers. The Dark Knight could be killed by them, let alone the Light Knight. While trying to find out the real culprit who killed the Red-robed bishop, while trying to bring the white-haired man and his accomplices to see Miss Prison Slave, the commander doesn't know how much energy he can consume.
The high officials of the church have endured the fact that the Knight of Light has not found out the real culprit, and the deadline for closing the case has been postponed. But the leader knew that the church's top brass was like a beast that had not yet gone hungry, and sooner or later it would burst into wild beast nature.
The prison slave walked through the wide vestibule of the church, where neatly arranged benches were placed, and many theistic believers who had come from elsewhere sat quietly listening to the priest preach. The prison slave walked along the walkway at the edge of the front hall into a high door on the west side of the hall and entered the long corridor. There are many such corridors in the cathedral that connect all the halls. The corridor, about three meters wide, has walls carved with patterns that are said to contain theistic classics. So every time the sermon ended, many people would walk into the long and short corridors, hoping to find some sacred teachings in the carvings.
After leaving the first corridor, the prisoners entered the main area of the cathedral - the hall. It was the largest hall in the church, slightly larger than a formal football field. There weren't many people in the hall, but they were all familiar faces. Usually in the hall are some priests and senior believers who often discuss some very profound ideas here.
Many people in the hall smiled at her when they saw the prison slave hurry past. The prisoner responded, but did not slow down in the slightest. In the past, whenever she passed by, she would stop and bow devoutly to the pulpit in the hall, where there were statues of the eight gods. But not today, she had to find the person she was looking for quickly. "God will forgive me." She said, turning into another corridor.
After going through a few more corridors and then through the Hall of Divine Righteousness, the prisoner's legs were already slightly sore. She wondered helplessly: Who made it forbidden to ride a horse in the cathedral?
After walking a long way again, we finally reached the residential area of the church staff - the Redemption Church.
The short, plump blue-robed bishop, with a smile on his face, came out of the church of Redemption and met the prison slave coming towards him. The bishop smoothed his curved white beard and said, "Prison slave girl, you haven't been seen for many days."
The prison slave stopped and said, "Yes, Grandpa Bishop, it's been a long time. But I have something important to do now. I'll go and drink your tea when I'm done." Having said that, the prisoner began to walk in at a fast pace.
"You always do things in such a rush. May God bless you." The old man said and walked out.
Finally seeing the door, the prisoner thought: The long journey is finally over. She went over and knocked on the black high door.
"Who?" A voice came out of the door.
"My Lord Bishop of God, I am the Messenger of the Holy, a prison slave."
"Come in."
The prisoner pushed open the door, and a warm breeze blew out of the room. The prisoner went in and then closed the door.
The bishop of God's bedroom was spacious and filled with many bookshelves, on which were the most profound books of the religion. It was called a bedroom, but to the prisoners it was more like a library. The appropriately bright yellowish-white light pours down from the ceiling and fills the entire room, creating a soft and comfortable atmosphere. The air was at a moderate temperature and had a faint, delicate fragrance. True to being the bishop of God - the room of the church's master, entering it makes one feel as if one has been baptized from head to toe.
The bookshelf enclosed a small patch of space in front of the door, where a large desk was placed, and the young bishop of God was sitting in a high chair behind the desk, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. His black hair was long and smooth, tied up at the back of his head. His white robe, as clean as snow, is spotless. There was no expression on the cold and handsome face, but it was the opposite of what a prison slave would look like. A prison slave is perceived as indifferent, but the Bishop of God, Logo, is as serene as his name suggests.
"Your Lord Bishop." The prison slave called out respectfully.
The bishop's gaze slowly lowered, slowly, and fell on the prisoner's face. "Holy Messenger, has the Knight of Light found the murderer of the Red-robed bishop?"
The prison slave chuckled and said, "Your Excellency the Bishop, don't you already know who killed the Red-robed bishop? If you already know, why do you keep asking?"
The bishop of God did not speak.
"Your Excellency the Bishop, I have come today to report something new to you."
"Speak." "
"Some Dark Knights have been killed."
"Really? Have you found out who the murderer is?" The bishop's voice remained calm and undisturbed.
The prisoner said, "The murderer hasn't been caught yet, but I already know who it is. I also guessed that at least one of them was carrying a black lettering stone."
"Of course, the Dark Knight wouldn't show up easily if the black Letter-hiding stone wasn't found." "The bishop said.
The prisoner stuck out his tongue and stopped speaking. Although the bishop never left the cathedral, his mind was always sharp.
"Now that we know who the murderer is, let's do it quickly. Also, the person with the black word stone is more dangerous. You should be careful."
"I've sent the Knight of Light to catch them."
The Bishop of God looked at the prison slave and, after confirming that she wasn't joking, said: "Knight of Light? What can they do?"
The prison slave chuckled to himself and said, "But we have no other army except the stupid and incompetent Knights of Light. The Dark Knights are not under our control, and we know they are working for the church, but we don't know who is in charge of them." The prisoners stared straight into the bishop's eyes, hoping to get a bit of information from his gaze.
"Not me." The bishop turned his eyes away, having to admit that the woman's gaze was too hurtful.
"Well, well, I believe it's not you, dear bishop. I have come today only to report to you that a Dark knight has been killed, so my mission is done. See you another day, My Lord Bishop." The prisoner smiled mischievously and turned to open the door and leave.
The bishop looked at the door that was not closed, and the figure of the prisoner had vanished. He knew that the prisoner had deliberately left the door closed as a provocation to his good intentions. The holy messenger, who was cold outside, would only smile like a little sister in front of him.
The bishop left his seat, went to the door and closed it.
He did not know how the prison slave had guessed the real culprit who had killed the Red-robed bishop, nor did he know why the prison slave did not press further to find out who was in charge of the powerful Dark Knights. But he knew that the truth would not be lost forever, and that the secrets of the darkness would be exposed one day. But when the secret is exposed to people, he doesn't know whether he will be friends or foes with the prison slave at that time.