A brilliant flash of light swallowed everything.
Rode squinted, hands shielding his eyes, yet still unable to fully block the strong light piercing through his eyelids.
After an unknown period, the intense light subsided. Rode opened his eyes. All the monsters had turned into flying ash. The air grew bright, the sky significantly wider. The environment was no longer oppressive, and the shadows and strange phenomena had vanished.
Eleven people in azure hooded cloaks stood before him.
Leading them was a young woman. She had a delicate, beautiful face, appearing no older than twenty. Under the azure cloak was a unique robe composed of blue and white, with a striking triple-flame emblem at the collar.
"Don't be afraid," she said softly. Her voice was gentle and clear, like a skylark in a secluded valley.
The moment the words left her mouth, Rode lost the last shred of hope—he understood every word she said, but he could not comprehend her language.
"You are safe."
As she spoke, her companions dispersed, beginning to investigate and clean up the scene. Two people walked toward him.
No choice left.
Rode adjusted his mindset as quickly as possible. His only option now was to pass himself off as a survivor. As long as they didn't become suspicious, there was still a chance for things to turn around.
Looking on the bright side, he wasn't necessarily the killer. A tattoo didn't prove anything. Maybe it was a coincidence? Perhaps it was a common, universal tattoo design? Maybe the owner of that hand wasn't the killer? There were many possibilities; things didn't always have to go in the worst direction.
With his thoughts firm, Rode was no longer panicked. He quietly awaited his impending fate.
Of the two approaching him, one was a burly, white-haired man, and the other was a young woman with waist-length hair.
The white-haired man stopped in front of him, pulled out a rock faintly glowing red, placed it before Rode's eyes, and said coldly, "Speak."
"Huh?" Rode was confused. "Speak what?"
But the man had already put the stone away.
"No signs of corruption. No spiritual energy out of control." He seemed to be checking Rode's condition.
The young woman, meanwhile, knelt down. Her soft, small hands felt around his body, apparently conducting a physical check. She said gently: "Relax, don't be nervous. The Guardians have arrived, everything will be fine." "Hmm... What's this soft bundle? A furry ball? It's quite cute. It must be something you treasure, right?"
Rode was somewhat at a loss, but thankfully, the search didn't last long. The young woman's hands were quick; in a moment, she had turned him inside out, searching every corner thoroughly.
"This security check is intense," Rode thought. "Why don't we have this in my world?" He also pondered, "Why does she act like she doesn't see the pattern on the back of my hand?"
The young woman stood up, gently took his arm, and smiled, "Walk a couple of steps." Rode felt baffled. Am I crippled?Aside from that toothache-like headache, I don't feel anything wrong.
After taking two steps with her assistance, she smiled and said, "It's fine. You are very healthy."
Rode mumbled a reply, then felt a pang of worry. These people were so strange. Could a "three-no" product like him adapt to life here? ("Three-no" referring to his lack of status, power, or special abilities.)
He looked up. Everyone on the scene was busy working intensely. They quickly collected items scattered on the ground and touched each corpse with an azure-colored stone.
Rode felt, perhaps mistakenly, that after being touched, the restless corpses seemed to quiet down.
"That is a Curse-Breaking Stone," the young woman, with her gentle manner, explained to him. "It removes the Lichification Curse and helps their spirits find rest. Please don't be sad; they will return to the embrace of the Fire."
Rode's heart tightened. Was it because I stepped on that strange symbol?But the symbol turned into ash; it shouldn't have any impact, right?
As he pondered, he saw another person collecting the ashes left behind by the black-furred monsters.
The young woman smiled, "Don't worry, these Silver Beasts of Loren City are completely dead."
Rode was startled. "Silver... Beasts?"
"Yes, they are the product of the Beastification Curse, the source of Aberrant Nightmares. We will find them. The traces at the scene have already been recorded and replicated." The young woman winked at him, indicating the burly white-haired man next to her.
Rode glanced at him, finding the white-haired man intensely focused on him. In front of the man, a long charcoal pen was floating in mid-air, rapidly drawing on a yellow parchment by itself.
The young woman smiled, "You seem to have recovered. The death of your companions doesn't appear to have affected you much. You are very strong. I like this type of boy the most." She released Rode's arm and walked away with a light step. "My name is A'luo, a Level Two Physician from Jinwosi. I'm glad I could help you."
The burly man stepped forward and said indifferently, "Please recount the events before and after the incident in their entirety, especially around the time of the casualty. Do not omit any detail. We need this to search for underlying Doomsday Cultists."
Here we go!
Rode's heart clenched. "I..." He hesitated. Seeing the burly man's icy gaze, the charcoal pen dancing in front of him, and all the bizarre things, a sudden realization struck him. Do they have some method to detect the truth or discern lies?No, I cannot lie.
Rode chose a safer approach. "I can't remember clearly."
This was a universally effective answer. Fabricating a lie requires countless details, and if one detail is exposed, the entire lie is shattered. He didn't know what kind of criminal investigation methods people here possessed. Replacing objective facts with subjective emotions was the best way.
The burly man narrowed his eyes. "Why can't you remember?"
"I, I don't know. I was too scared... corpses everywhere... my head hurts so much. I think I was injured..."
This statement was perfectly crafted, consisting entirely of vague, personal sensory emotions—practically the perfect, exculpatory testimony of a notorious criminal. This was, in fact, the truth; he just described it from a different angle.
But the burly man, unmoved, said coldly: "I found a strange trace of blood at the scene. It was burned to ash, just before we arrived. Can you explain that?"
Rode's eyes widened. No way? You can find traces even when it's burned to ash? Are you a bone-shattering veteran Geralt?
Whoosh. The yellow parchment beside the burly man flipped a page. The suspended charcoal pen continued to write frantically. Rode inconspicuously glanced at it, noticing the back of the page was also covered in writing. But he was illiterate; he didn't recognize a single character. Damn.
"I, I really don't know. When I woke up, they were all dead. Red stones were scattered everywhere on the ground... Those long-haired monsters appeared from the black fog. I was terrified. I didn't know where to run. The corpses on the ground came back to life. I couldn't breathe. I thought I was going to die. It was at that moment that you arrived..."
The burly man listened quietly. After scribbling dozens more pages, he turned and walked away. Rode watched his retreating back with apprehension. Did I pass the test?
Evidently not. Two more people walked up, standing silently on either side of him. The implication of surveillance was unmistakable.
Rode's heart sank.
On the other side, the burly man didn't deliberately lower his voice to avoid him. "...Replication complete. All information has been recorded." "The migration team was entirely wiped out. The Lantern Bearer is dead. He is the sole survivor." "The goods were not lost. There's evidence of an unknown ritual with unknown directional significance, a Lichification Curse from an unknown source. Some evidence was destroyed. Cause of death is unknown." "The survivor has not undergone the Fire Trial, is uncorrupted, and possesses no spiritual endowment. He is a normal person, however..." "...I still believe the survivor is highly suspicious. He should be handed over to the Internal Affairs Tribunal for special review."
The young woman in the blue and white robe listened silently, without a word. A'luo, the physician, covered her mouth, her voice tinged with disbelief. "No way? White Wolf, are you mistaken? I don't feel like he's a bad person."
The burly man, White Wolf, swept his cold gaze toward her. "A'luo, never use feelings to judge a person. The entire incident has too many suspicious elements. He is the sole survivor, yet claims amnesia. He likely harbors a secret and is trying to deceive us to execute some terrible conspiracy to achieve his ulterior motives."
"But, if he's sent to the Internal Affairs Tribunal, he might..."
White Wolf's voice became low, "It can't be helped. Some things are unavoidable."
The air grew silent for a moment.
Rode's heart dropped into an ice cave. He felt the terrible sensation of escaping the tiger's den only to enter the wolf's lair. You guys are too strict... I have just this tiny bit of suspicion, and I'm going to be scrutinized and sent to that Tribunal? The name alone sounded ominous—most likely a man-eating, bone-crushing institution akin to a concentration camp or a gulag. And "special review" sounded even more dangerous. Forget the secret he was hiding; judging by their reaction, he would probably be ruined or dead after the review.
What should I do?
Just as he was frantic, the young woman in the blue and white robe spoke. "Is there any other possibility?"
White Wolf replied, "No."
The young woman in the blue and white robe was silent for a few seconds, let out a tiny, imperceptible sigh, and said, "Alright, then we will..."
Clap. The hands of the two people behind him rested on his shoulders. The image of being arrested and led away by police officers instantly flashed through Rode's mind.
"No! Wait!" Rode shouted, a flash of quick-wittedness hitting him. "I have something else to say!"
Everyone turned their gaze toward him. Rode's heart pounded furiously. The intense anxiety nearly suffocated him.
White Wolf said coldly, "Say whatever you have to say to the executioner..."
But the young woman in the blue and white robe interrupted him: "Let him speak."
Rode yelled, "I want to talk to you, alone!"
White Wolf's tone showed slight impatience: "Take him away..."
But the young woman interrupted him again: "Fine." She walked a few steps away, standing in a relatively open spot.
Rode was escorted toward her by the two behind him.
The intense anxiety did not interrupt his complex, Sherlock Holmes-like train of thought. He had acutely observed that the young woman in the blue and white robe with the triple-flame emblem at the collar was the leader of this group. Although she looked young, in this world, age didn't measure everything. Perhaps she was naturally gifted, perhaps her father completed the accumulation of her first thirty years for her, or perhaps her family completed the struggle of her first three hundred years.
But that wasn't the point. The point was that her will could now change his fate. So, if he could convince her, he could avoid the miserable fate of being sent to an interrogation unit for inhumane questioning. And he just happened to have a special persuasion technique. Though the technique was a bit devilish, and he didn't know if it would work, he had no other option. He had to gamble.
The people behind him released him, gave a slight bow, and then walked away.
The young woman's light-colored eyes looked at him: "Speak."
Rode took a deep breath, calming his surging anxiety, and said in a low voice, "Look into my eyes."
A faint red light appeared around the young woman. Flame patterns flowed on her robe, and the flame emblem at her collar began to burn. Then, she looked into his eyes.
Rode asked, "What do you see inside?"
The young woman looked for a few seconds, found nothing unusual, and asked, "See what?"
Rode spoke in the deepest voice he had ever managed.
"You."