Overseer Roger Reeds.
Tang Cuo remembered this name. It had been mentioned on both the Duniao Daily and the small blackboard at the Greenvines Alliance office in the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight; perhaps he was one of the Thirteen Arbiters.
This explained why Theodore had brought the Grand Duke to the church—because Roger Reeds was here.
A mage capable of instant casting—and with magic that clearly wasn’t low-tier—must be immensely powerful. The Grand Duke’s face relaxed at the sight. Tang Cuo sheathed his sword and guided him to the side to keep him safe while continuing to observe the battle.
Roger Reeds’s magic was predominantly light-attribute. When the light of his spells shone down, it brought a holy aura that seemed to leave no shadow untouched.
The enemy perched atop the church spire wore a blood-red robe, their face hidden beneath a hood—mysterious and unpredictable. The robe was a vivid red, reminiscent of blood and roses alike.
Their fighting style was equally distinct: what could best be described as Rose Bombs.
True to the name, magic circles engraved with rose patterns suddenly materialized on the ground. Golden light flashed as the patterns detached from the circles as if alive, blooming like flowers before violently exploding.
BOOM! The people bursting out of the church were nearly blown off their feet.
Most of them belonged to the Greenvines Alliance—a mix of mages and swordsmen in varied attire. Meanwhile, figures clad in black mage robes—similar to assassin garb—leaped out from the church windows.
A fierce battle broke out.
The Rose Bombs triggered in a chain reaction, layering one after another and chaining all the way from the church entrance right to Roger Reeds’s feet. With a cold expression, Roger Reeds chanted a long spell, pointed his cane forward, and a dark light scattered down like falling stars.
The black specks of light landed on the unfurling petals, causing the roses to wither instantly.
Dual affinity—Light and Dark.
Tang Cuo reassessed Roger Reeds’s strength once more. The red-robed mage capable of dueling him was certainly no push-over either. Wearing such a unique red robe suggested he was likely a core figure of the Rose Sect.
But why were they fighting in a White Leaf Zone church? Shouldn’t today’s focus be on the Grand Duke, or had they anticipated that the Grand Duke would be driven into the White Leaf Zone all along?
Tang Cuo observed everything, doubting everything.
Before long, the Greenvines Alliance gained the upper hand, and the White Leaf Zone guards finally arrived on the scene. Seeing that the tide had turned, the red-robed mage let out a cold snort and waved his hand to signal a retreat.
Roger Reeds naturally wasn’t about to let him off easily and gave chase.
“Theodore!” The remaining members of the Greenvines Alliance stayed behind. One of them spotted Tang Cuo and quickly waved him over.
Tang Cuo brought the Grand Duke along. He wasn’t a good actor and had no idea what their names were, so to avoid blowing his cover, he maintained as cold and distant an demeanor as possible.
Fortunately, Theodore himself seemed to be naturally cold and aloof. As the group ushered the Grand Duke inside, the man who had waved called out, “How did you end up here with the Grand Duke? Weren’t you two in the Inner City?”
Tang Cuo gave a brief summary of the plot.
Hearing about the secret tunnel, the man looked thoughtful and said, “We’ll let Lord Roger Reeds decide once he returns. As for the bard you mentioned, we might meet him later.”
Although Lancelot had saved the Grand Duke, why he knew about the secret tunnel still needed verification.
Through their conversation, Tang Cuo learned that the man was named Kelt, a orthodox knight just like Theodore. Tang Cuo then opened his system panel to glance at it.
[Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight]
Ring Two: Song of the Whistling Wind
Main Mission: Talk to Roger Reeds
Roger Reeds hadn’t returned yet, so all they could do was wait. Meanwhile, the Grand Duke stood alone inside the church, staring in silent solemnity at a figure kneeling in a pool of blood with head bowed.
The kneeling person wore a moon-white priest’s robe; if Tang Cuo guessed correctly, this was the person the Grand Duke had said he was willing to trust.
Tang Cuo stepped forward, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword like a silent guard without saying a word.
The Grand Duke was clad in coarse cloth garments, and up close, every line on his face seemed etched with hardship. Yet it was a solemn, wordless, and quiet sort of hardship.
It was always hard to pinpoint when an admirable friend had abandoned their beliefs.
Kelt explained that the priest had defected to the Rose Sect and was involved in today’s assassination. Originally, the Greenvines Alliance had focused their attention on the Inner City, but Lord Roger Reeds had keenly noticed abnormalities here and urgently mobilized personnel to launch a crackdown on the Rose Sect.
The red-robed mage was a high priest of the Rose Sect. White-robed bishops, red-robed high priests, and black-robed ordinary followers.
After a long silence, the Grand Duke placed a hand over his chest, offering his final respects to the deceased priest. He didn’t break down or cry out in rage, remaining as calm as when he looked upon the suffering of all living beings.
Tang Cuo, on the other hand, was reminded of Jin Cheng. They had agreed to meet at the church in an hour, but the hour was up and Jin Cheng was nowhere to be seen.
Did he trigger another plotline?
Tang Cuo guessed correctly; Jin Cheng had indeed triggered another plotline—and yet another side mission at that. After enduring ninety-nine linked side missions in the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight, Jin Cheng now felt a wave of numbness whenever he saw a side mission, but this one was different.
Its reward was explicitly written out in the mission description: Fragment of the Movement.
A Movement?
Was it one of the Twelve Movements, or Lancelot’s movement? Or were the two the exact same thing?
How could Jin Cheng miss such an opportunity? Even if he had to do ninety-nine more linked missions, he wouldn’t pass this up. Furthermore, this side mission had a time limit, which was likely the window reserved for side content without disrupting the main storyline.
Side Mission Name: The Unfinished Painting
Trigger Location: A secluded backstreet five minutes from the tavern
At the time, Jin Cheng was being chased by people from the tavern. With his mechanical bow sealed, he had no desire to fight the locals head-on using only a small harp. So while his forward charges were dashing, his turnarounds to run were equally dashing. The consequence of being too dashing was accidentally crashing straight into a funeral procession.
Two fierce-looking men carrying a corpse wrapped in a straw mat were bumped by Jin Cheng, causing the body to roll right out of the mat—and triggering the side mission.
The scene was terribly awkward.
Jin Cheng promptly lulled the two burly men to sleep with a Requiem before crouching down to inspect the corpse. The body belonged to a young woman wearing revealing clothes and cheap makeup. She wasn’t particularly pretty and had numerous bruises on her body, though no obvious cause of death could be seen.
The mission required Jin Cheng to complete her unfinished painting within a one-hour time limit. Yet Jin Cheng didn’t even know who she was, and the only two people who might know were now fast asleep.
With puruers closing in, Jin Cheng had to pull back first. After leading them in a loop, he returned to find the two men waking up. Cursing indignantly, they tried to find the culprit to beat him up, but finding no one, they had no choice but to hoist the corpse and keep walking.
Jin Cheng had initially thought about tying them up for interrogation, but changing his mind, he quietly shadowed them instead.
The people of the White Leaf Zone seemed accustomed to seeing bodies carried through the streets in broad daylight. Their faces were numb; even if a few flashed looks of sympathy or sorrow, they quickly looked away.
Jin Cheng followed them all the way until they entered a courtyard with a wooden cart parked at the entrance.
As luck would have it, there was also a corpse wrapped in a straw mat on the cart. A middle-aged man pulling the cart was haggling with a small-mustached man whose hair was slicked back neatly.
“Sir, please add five more copper coins. My father may have been old, but he was always healthy and never suffered from any major illness until he died. That’s rare in the White Leaf Zone.”
“But he’s already old.”
“Five copper coins might be nothing to you, but they can fill my children’s bellies. Sir, please have mercy.”
“Take it or leave it. The noble necromancers don’t care for elderly corpses, and shipping them to the Kingdom of Locke costs a fortune in transportation alone. Buying your body is an act of pity—do you realize this is charity?”
While the two argued, the burly men arrived with their corpse. The mustached man waved his hand and inspected the young woman’s body first. Seeming quite pleased with it, he quickly agreed on a deal for one silver coin.
The burly man happily carried the body inside. Someone emerged from the house holding a stamp, efficiently pressing it onto the back of the woman’s neck—the Arabic numerals ⅤⅥ, representing 56.
Crouching on the neighboring roof, Jin Cheng watched and was suddenly reminded of the blue inspection stamps put on pork in the real world.
Meanwhile, the middle-aged man pulling the cart finally gritted his teeth and gave up on his five-copper markup, terrified that the mustached man would go back on his word, and hastily completed the transaction. He received 60 copper coins, while the old man’s body was stamped with 57.
Evidently, the numbers represented the body count.
Jin Cheng rested his chin in his hand, quietly watching the scene. Even as the burly men happily headed back with their money, he didn’t make a move. He merely cast one last glance into the courtyard before leaving, where the person stamping was sprinkling powder over the displayed corpses, likely to preserve them.
He was in no position to pass judgment.
When bellies couldn’t be filled, morality was cheap.
Unlike the man selling his own father’s body, however, the two burly men clearly weren’t the woman’s brothers. So once Jin Cheng figured out where the bodies were being taken, he doubled back and tied them up.
From their mouths, Jin Cheng obtained the woman’s address and occupation.
She was a working girl living alone in a rented place in the White Leaf Zone. The two men were bouncers tasked with keeping order, as well as handling dead bodies. The woman had died suddenly from a pre-existing illness that was terminal.
With barely twenty-odd minutes remaining on the one-hour timer, Jin Cheng rushed to the rental home. The moment he opened the door, a massive mural leaped into view.
The woman had been painting before her death. She had kept the wall directly facing the doorway completely clear, stacking all her furniture and clutter on the opposite side—one side neat, the other chaotic; one side brightly colored, the other dull.
The painting depicted a field of blooming red roses, with only the final two flowers left uncolored. Brushes and a color palette sat on the table, alongside an unsent letter.
Respected Pastor Peter:
I think I am dying soon.
Congratulate me.
I don’t know if a flower called a rose truly exists in this world; I have never seen one.But if it is as beautiful as you say, may it fulfill your wish.
As for me, there is no need.
—Lisa
Jin Cheng fell silent for two minutes before putting down the letter, picking up a paintbrush, and starting to fill in the remaining flowers. But the instant the tip of the brush touched the wall, the vivid red color suddenly expanded in his field of vision, consuming his entire sight.
Like a splash of red ink pouring off the wall, it instantly engulfed him.
On the other side, Tang Cuo hadn’t gotten Jin Cheng, but he got Roger Reeds.
More than half of the Rose Sect members hiding in the White Leaf Zone were killed, and the red-robed high priest was severely wounded by Roger Reeds, though he ultimately managed to escape. After returning, Roger Reeds issued a few follow-up instructions to Kelt before approaching Tang Cuo on his own initiative.
“Tell me about the secret tunnel again.” Roger Reeds looked stern. He appeared to be in his nineties, with the sides of his head shaved into a crisp haircut. His hair was black—a rarity in this world—and paired with an eyepatch and a single blue eye, his cold face seemed all the more severe.
As the two walked into the church courtyard, Tang Cuo was about to repeat what he had told Kelt to adapt to the situation, only for Roger Reeds to adopt a stern yet familiar tone.
“Theodore, taking the Grand Duke through the tunnel was far too reckless. Your brother sent you here to gain experience, not to put yourself in danger.”
Brother? Theodore has a brother?
Tang Cuo was suspicious inside, but his expression remained unchanged. “I understand, Lord Roger Reeds.”
Roger Reeds frowned slightly. “The matter of taking you as my apprentice will have to be postponed. I will write a letter to the Duke. If you wish to remain in the Greenvines Alliance in the future, you must undergo more training. You didn’t casually disclose your background to others, which is good, Theodore. As a knight, you should be proud of your noble origin, but you must not be arrogant, nor can you stop progressing.”
Tang Cuo understood: so this was the story of a noble youth concealing his identity to gain experience in the countryside—no wonder Theodore’s hair color was different.
However, one detail struck Tang Cuo as odd.
If Theodore had an older brother, then in an orthodox noble knight family, the eldest son would inherit the title. According to Roger Reeds, Theodore had come to the Greenvines Alliance for training, intending to become Roger Reeds’s apprentice, and might stay with the Alliance in the future—a path entirely different from inheriting a title.
So why did Theodore ultimately become the Duke? Where did his older brother go?
Did he die, or did something else happen?
Tang Cuo suppressed his doubts for the time being, refraining from asking why a knight would want a mage as a master, and nodded, maintaining his cold persona without flinching.
Thus, when Kelt walked over, what he saw was two cold faces, one big and one small, looking as if they had been cast from the very same mold. He scratched his head, completely unsure if he should interrupt them.
