“Why are you looking at me like that? I haven't turned into a madman yet. Don't pinch here, and definitely don't pinch there—stop it! I told you, I'm not mad!”
“Tsk, what a pity. You actually came back alive.” Lynch patted Terry’s shoulder with a look of disappointment, though he felt a faint sense of gladness in his heart. “What kind of thrilling story happened? Spill the details.”
Actually, it wasn't all that thrilling.
As he did for every routine debriefing, the knight had entered the City Lord's residence to report on his work.
To avoid eating anything inside the residence, he had deliberately chosen seven in the evening, waiting until the cooking smoke from the city's homes had dispersed before stepping inside.
Following custom, he first met with the other two knights responsible for the residence's security. The two knights were drinking and tried to pull him in for a few cups.
Obeying Lynch's instructions, Terry declined the invitation on the grounds that madmen might go on a rampage in the city at any moment. He chatted briefly with his two colleagues, informing them of the situation in town, and repeatedly warned them that if anyone suddenly went mad—no matter who it was—they had to be subdued immediately, if not killed on the spot, and under no circumstances allowed to harm others.
The two had vaguely heard about the situation outside from the soldiers, but what kind of joke was this? They had heard of corpses reanimating, but never of it being contagious and driving people mad. The two wanted to laugh, but seeing Terry's deadly serious expression and considering his usual character, they felt a twinge of doubt and didn't dare dismiss it outright.
However, the situation inside the residence was fairly stable, like a safe haven amidst a raging sea. Nothing had happened over the past few days. Even with rumors of ghouls outside the city causing unrest, Steward Locke had organized the residence's affairs in an orderly manner, without a single trace of chaos.
Forget about the corpse, forget about the culprit behind the scenes. I'm just here for a routine debriefing, to report on the plague in the city and check on the residence's security.
Knight Terry reminded himself of this repeatedly, suppressing his urge to pry further. After confirming that there were no madmen inside the residence—at least on the surface—he went straight to pay his respects to the city lord.
The moment they met, he realized something was off with the city lord today.
He was extraordinarily happy.
Not only had he gathered the entire family for dinner, but he had also specifically summoned musicians to play and sing, filling the estate with a rare sense of cheer.
This was the first time in six months, ever since the death of the young master, little Jack, that the city lord had been in such high spirits.
It should have been a good thing, but the possibilities hidden behind it sent a chill down Terry's spine, and his ominous foreboding grew stronger.
City Lord Jackson's family wasn't large. His younger brother and sister lived in the capital, leaving only his branch—the eldest son's line—residing in Norin.
He was fifty years old this year. He had originally been energetic and robust, but had aged considerably since his youngest son died six months ago, his hair turning graying and white.
The city lord's wife had already passed away, leaving behind three daughters, two sons-in-law, and their children. The atmosphere in the household was quite harmonious. Over the past six months, apart from more than a dozen failed assassination attempts against several of the boys, no major conflicts had broken out.
Tonight's family banquet had been warm and joyful. Although the family didn't know why the city lord was so happy, it was certainly better than seeing him grim-faced. Everyone was cheerful. When they saw Terry come in, the two sons-in-law even personally pulled up a chair for him to sit down, and the city lord happily poured him a glass of wine himself.
If everything up to that point had seemed normal, what happened next made Terry uneasy.
He had planned to report on the city's plague first and propose a few countermeasures, but the city lord had shown no interest at all, interrupting his report before he could finish and telling him to handle it himself. This left Terry quite embarrassed, and his suspicion grew stronger. He couldn't help but mention that four soldiers at the South Gate had also been infected with the plague, but the city lord had no reaction whatsoever, appearing not even to know who the four were, simply stating that Terry should deal with military matters as he saw fit.
Terry wanted to say more, but just then, Steward Locke entered and whispered into City Lord Jackson's ear. The city lord burst out laughing on the spot, unable to conceal the joy on his face. He repeatedly told Locke to invite the guests in, before turning his gaze toward Terry.
Knowing when to step back, Terry immediately rose to take his leave. However, the city lord, now in high spirits, displayed his usual sensible demeanor once more, insisting that he merely had other matters to attend to tonight and lacked the energy to listen to a report. Instead, he arranged a room for Terry to stay overnight, promising to hear the report first thing the next morning after tonight's business was handled.
The armored knight was somewhat reluctant; he already felt the place was dangerous. But considering he couldn't expose himself, and staying would allow him to observe more of the situation, he agreed.
Just as the knight stood up to leave, Locke escorted the visitors inside.
There were two mysterious figures completely wrapped in black cloaks, one tall and one short, their exact figures and features entirely hidden.
The tall one was nearly two meters tall, a head taller than Terry, while the short one was barely over a meter. This sent Terry into a deep chill.
When the young master died, he had been only ten years old, roughly this tall.
A bizarre, pungent odor emanated visibly from the short figure. Terry had never smelled anything like it; it wasn't a foul stench, but somewhat like alcohol, though far sharper and more pungent.
As they brushed past each other, the short figure slightly raised its head beneath the hood. His face remained obscured, but those two blood-red eyes left an indelible mark on Terry's memory. The moment their gazes crossed, the figure lowered its hood again, following the tall one toward the city lord.
Terry's heart pounded violently, cold sweat drenching his back. Not daring to show any anomaly, he walked out with stiff steps, hearing only the city lord's hearty, delighted laughter echoing behind him.
“So, you reckon that was the city lord's youngest son?”
Lynch handed Terry a cup of water, his calm, unhurried voice easing the armored knight's tension a bit.
“Yes, I still remember the young master's height. It was far too similar; I suspect that was him.” Terry downed the water in one gulp and spoke raspy, “His eyes were red, identical to the eyes of those madmen, but he could walk around like a normal person. Even when he passed right by me, he didn't lunge at me or try to bite me—completely different from those madmen. I'm starting to wonder... did the young master really come back to life? Did he turn into a normal person instead of a bitten madman?”
“So in the end, you couldn't actually confirm if that was the city lord's youngest son or not?”
“Yeah. But he looked very much like him.”
“Then can you be sure whether he turned back to normal and didn't want to bite you, or if he was merely being controlled temporarily?”
“This...” Terry was temporarily at a loss for words. After hesitating a moment, he shook his head. “I'm not sure.”
Lynch nodded thoughtfully. “Go on. What happened next?”
“I didn't dare make a scene, but I wasn't comfortable going back to the guest room either, so I loitered near the dining room. After a while, several of the city lord's family members came out. Looking at their expressions, they didn't seem pleased—it looked like they'd been kicked out. The two sons-in-law were cursing under their breath, though I couldn't tell who they were cursing at. They stopped only when they saw me, gave a brief greeting, and left.”
“Looks like I guessed right.” Lynch shrugged at the ladies. “What the knight saw was likely the youngest son raised from the dead. As for whether it's true resurrection or infection, I lean toward the latter. Judging by their behavior, the city lord definitely knows and was waiting for his son last night. However, the rest of his family was likely kept in the dark—which makes sense; if they knew, there wouldn't have been over a dozen failed assassination attempts. As for the steward...”
After bumping into the city lord's daughters and sons-in-law, Knight Terry felt too awkward to keep lingering by the door. But just as he was about to leave, he saw Steward Locke exit the dining room as well.
Upon seeing Terry, the steward didn't avoid him. Instead, he cheerfully pulled the armored knight along, insisting on having a drink together.
This nearly scared Terry to death. With the fate of those men fresh in his mind, plus having just seen that creature resembling the young master, how could he dare touch any food or drink in the residence? He quickly declined the drinking invitation under the pretext of needing to stay in top shape to guard against a plague outbreak at any moment.
Even so, he was pulled into the room by an excited Mr. Locke. Though Terry didn't drink, the steward helped himself, pouring and drinking on his own. After a few glasses, the middle-aged steward began to chatter endlessly.
He didn't know who those two were either; the city lord had simply instructed him to bring them up from the basement. But he felt the short figure's frame looked somewhat familiar.
When the city lord saw the two enter, he had been so overjoyed he almost lost his composure. The two sons-in-law had tried to ask who they were, only to be barked at and driven out by the city lord.
In six months, this was the first time the steward had seen the city lord so excited. Thinking he had finally moved past the grief of losing his son, he was genuinely happy for him. The city lord had also gotten carried away, lavishing praise on the steward and saying he had been a huge help. Though bewildered by the praise, the steward was delighted nonetheless, which led to him rambling to Terry for a long time until near midnight, when he was summoned back by the city lord.
Terry hadn't gleaned anything useful; it was mostly mundane household gossip that he already knew, making him drowsy. As soon as the steward left, Terry fled the steward's room. But before he could make it back to his own quarters, he saw the tall cloaked figure leave alone, moving with extraordinary speed and vanishing from Terry's sight in the blink of an eye. Shortly after, he noticed the steward and the city lord leaving the estate together with the entity resembling the young master, heading off to parts unknown.
Terry's first impulse was to give chase, but wearing his metal ringed mail armor, walking felt like carrying an entire orchestra. Taking just two steps, he stopped and pretended it was a chance encounter, waving a greeting to the city lord and steward who had turned back to look at him.
At that moment, he saw the short figure raise its head toward him once more, inadvertently locking eyes with him again.
He felt as though he were staring at a ferocious beast—feral yet cold and calculating—gazing at him as if locked onto delicious prey.
After just one look, he heard the city lord give a soft cough. The cloaked figure immediately bowed its head again, concealing its blood-red gaze. Yet that single glance was enough to make the brave knight's hair stand on end, freezing him in place for a long time.
By the time he regained his composure, his heart was still hammering against his ribs. Looking up, he saw the three had long walked away, leaving only faint receding figures in the distance.
Yet whenever Terry closed his eyes, those crimson eyes seemed to reappear right before him, staring intently, giving him the terrifying sensation of being targeted by a apex predator.
Finding it all profoundly eerie and his mind in utter disarray, Knight Terry instinctively fled back to his guest room, deadbolted the door, and dived under the covers.
The warmth of early summer could not stave off the freezing cold that seemed to stem from his very soul. Covering his head with the blanket, he trembled like a leaf in the wind. Even with the "quilt barrier" protecting him, he still felt surrounded by countless blood-red eyes staring intently, as if about to pounce and tear him to shreds at any second.
After an unknown amount of time, the knight drifted into a groggy sleep.
He suffered endless nightmares through the night, torn apart by the infected over and over again in his dreams. Terror made him struggle frantically to wake up, yet he remained trapped.
“When I finally woke up again, it was already this morning.” Knight Terry exhaled a breath of cold air with lingering dread, fear and relief plainly written across his face. “I could hardly believe I lived to see this morning's sun. I left the residence in a hurry, but on my way out, I asked the guard. The city lord returned early yesterday morning, but Steward Locke hasn't come back yet. No one knows where he took that thing.”
When Terry finished his account, the four exchanged looks, each seeing the shock mirrored in the others' eyes.
An ordinary person might not understand such a reaction, but the four of them were all too familiar with it.
They had all come into contact with evil gods, whether fighting them or following them. It wasn't that Knight Terry was a coward, but rather that when a mortal confronts a supreme presence, ancient memories etched deep into their soul awaken their instinctive mortal terror.
“No, it wasn't an evil god,” Officer Natalie corrected immediately after a brief silence. “If it were truly an evil god, he couldn't possibly have regained his sanity so quickly—no, he wouldn't have regained it at all. With his willpower, he would have gone mad on the spot.”
“Yet his reaction really does resemble the feeling of facing an evil god.” Miss Diana blushed slightly, as if remembering something unspeakable. Under Natalie's fierce glare, she bit her lip and said softly, “That's how I felt when I faced an evil god head-on.”
Saying that, she glanced at Knight Terry's still-terrified eyes and handed him a rolled cigarette, gesturing for him to light it up and inhale.
“It indeed doesn't feel like facing an ordinary mysterious creature,” the wise version of Judy added. “He must have caught a trace of a supreme aura that leaked out when their eyes met. In other words, that thing is approaching the status of a vassal, and may even be capable of channeling the power of the Great Old Ones.”
The other three instinctively shuddered, filled with an ominous sense of an uncertain future.
However, Lynch quickly regained his composure. “No need to worry. If a normal human like Terry can break free from mental contamination, then even if the other party carries a trace of supreme aura, it shouldn't be fully mature yet. We still have a good chance of winning in a direct confrontation. Besides, even if it really turned into a vassal, so what? Don't we chat and laugh with vassals every day anyway? Worrying won't solve anything—we have to face every difficulty head-on.”
In truth, Lynch wasn't saying this for his companions. The three ladies beside him were each more terrifying than the last, none of them needing his encouragement. He was saying it to soothe Dr. Sven's heart.
“So according to the information Knight Terry brought back, that body has been taken away from the City Lord's residence to parts unknown. But we've already successfully tracked the other tall cloaked figure, and I reckon following him will surely lead us to the body.”
Lynch clapped his hands, calling everyone's attention back.
“Dr. Sven, finish the medicine as quickly as possible. As for us... hehe, today is harvest day. Come on, let me take you all to go chop off my head.”
Rate on N.U.
