Chapter 50: The Song of the Wind (9)
Batz genuinely looked like he knew nothing, honestly recounting the entire process of his medical treatment to Tang Cuo.
“At that time, my savings were all spent. I had no money to buy more medicine, and I didn’t know who to ask for a loan. The winter was so cold, I originally thought I wouldn’t survive until spring, so I even wrote a suicide note, hehe. I never expected that one day Dr. Albert would suddenly knock on my door. He said he was treating Mrs. Lawrence next door and happened to smell the medicine coming from my room, so he came over to take a look.”
When speaking of Dr. Albert, Batz still wore a look of reverence.
Tang Cuo, however, was thinking: Taking the initiative to show up at the door—isn’t this just modern door-to-door salesmanship? Thinking back to when he was alive, he had fought off so many scam syndicates targeting the elderly in his neighborhood. He hadn’t expected to encounter the same routine after entering a game instance.
“How did he treat you?”
“I took medicine.”
“Only medicine?”
“Um… there doesn’t seem to have been anything else? Sometimes Dr. Albert would give me checkups, but I didn’t feel anything unusual.”
Tang Cuo pondered for a moment before continuing, “During those checkups, were you fully conscious?”
Batz scratched his head, tilting it as he thought carefully. After a long while, he said, “There were two times where I think I fell asleep. It’s all a blur and I can’t remember clearly. Is this very important? Theodore, Dr. Albert really is a good person.”
“Even if he might have an ulterior motive?”
“But he still saved me.”
Batz blinked his eyes, arriving at the simplest answer with his simple way of thinking.
In that moment, Tang Cuo realized that Batz probably didn’t care what hidden identity Dr. Albert had or what his schemes were. The important thing was that he had saved him.
In a moment of despair when no one else would help, he had reached out a hand.
It was that simple.
“I understand, Batz,” Tang Cuo didn’t say anything more.
Batz was too tired; his eyelids were fighting to stay open, and he truly didn’t know anything deeper. Tang Cuo watched him lie down to rest, then walked back over to the window.
Dawn broke.
The faint morning light illuminated the horizon, but the white looked painted on, a cold and pallid hue. The wind chimes swayed, their crisp sound breaking the tranquility of the night.
Jin Cheng was still wandering the streets.
Early morning in the White Leaf District was already a bustling scene. There was no transition from calm to busy; it was hasty and filled with restless agitation. Following a father and son from the residential area all the way to the docks, Jin Cheng bought a piece of black bread and some potato soup. The bread was dry and hard, and the potato soup really only contained potatoes. The experience was absolutely terrible.
But Jin Cheng still sat by the roadside and finished his breakfast. Afterward, he propped his chin on his hand, holding his small lap harp, and watched the people coming and going.
Passersby could all tell he was a bard. The owner of the black bread stall wiped his hands, walked out of his shop, and asked him, “Why are you here? Do you need something?”
Jin Cheng looked up. “Shouldn’t I be here?”
“A bard’s poems are meant to praise those great lords.”
“What kind of person is great?”
The bread shop owner was stumped by his question. It took him a long while to answer, “Great people, of course.”
Jin Cheng found this answer quite amusing, but the owner might have gotten angry. Muttering something under his breath, he walked back into his shop with a stiff face. Jin Cheng began to play his harp, sitting cross-legged on the ground, casually plucking the strings.
A passing old man looked at him weirdly. Jin Cheng asked him, “Want to request a song?”
The old man ignored him and walked away, probably thinking he had run into a lunatic first thing in the morning.
Jin Cheng didn’t care. He just wanted to play the harp to change his mood and sort out his thoughts. Thinking it over, he felt the breakthrough point was still with Batz.
Because Batz was the only one who appeared before everyone as someone who was “alive.”
However, the system had clearly arranged the two clue threads—Aesop (who might also be Dr. Albert) and Pastor Peter—to Tang Cuo and him respectively. He had no way to intervene in Batz’s affairs, so he could only continue searching for Peter.
At this time, he didn’t know that Tang Cuo had already seen the ‘dead’ Peter. Finishing a song, he patted his rear, stood up, and decided to go find Kelt.
Kelt was currently running back and forth between St. Peter’s District and the White Leaf District. When Jin Cheng found him, he was at the cathedral.
“Hey, Lancelot, good morning.” Kelt had a good impression of Jin Cheng.
“I haven’t slept all night, dear Kelt,” Jin Cheng shrugged.
“That’s truly terrible.”
“Isn’t it just.”
As the two exchanged pleasantries, Kelt pulled Jin Cheng aside and asked, “Where is Theodore? Is he alright?”
Jin Cheng shook his head. “He’s resting. Kelt, do you have any news about Peter? Or rather, have you found any of the missing corpses?”
Kelt: “Not yet.”
Jin Cheng: “Then I have an idea.”
Kelt’s eyes lit up slightly, and he quickly asked Jin Cheng what good idea he had. Jin Cheng said, “The places you found drawn with magic circles… some of them haven’t had anyone die yet, right? I want you to spread a rumor saying someone died and then came back to life. In order to investigate thoroughly, the Greenvines Alliance locked the person in…”
Jin Cheng glanced around, “Locked them right in this cathedral.”
Kelt wasn’t a fool; he caught on immediately. “You want to bait the Rose Sect into coming? But what if they hear the news and accelerate their retreat?”
Jin Cheng: “At the very least, Peter won’t. I don’t think he’d leave the White Leaf District so easily. Besides, if they do evacuate because of this, it would just prove that our suspicions are pointed in the right direction, wouldn’t it?”
Kelt was convinced and immediately set off to get it done. But before he left the cathedral, Jin Cheng stopped him again, asking him to send extra men to East Street to lie in wait secretly.
Meanwhile, on East Street, an uninvited guest was tapping on Batz’s window.
Batz was sleeping soundly and didn’t wake up.
Tang Cuo stood up, turned his head, and saw the visitor outside the window. His heart skipped a beat—it was Aesop’s magic puppet. It was dressed the same way it had been yesterday, with tassel earrings and holding an umbrella, but its facial features were crooked and the stitching was incredibly shoddy. Its button eyes stared unblinkingly at Tang Cuo, and its red-stitched mouth stretched into a wide grin. It was ugly and terrifying.
Current Main Mission: Converse with Aesop.
It didn’t look dangerous.
Tang Cuo steadied himself and calmly walked over to open the window. “Do you need something?”
The puppet looked up at him, raising the small black umbrella in its hand. When it opened its mouth, Aesop’s smiling voice came out, “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Tang Cuo: “I can’t beat you.”
The puppet giggled and took clumsy steps over the windowsill, jumping into the room. With comical movements, its two short legs scurried over from the window, climbed up the foot of the bed, and stood next to Batz, looking down at him.
It looked left, looked right, tilted its neck, and stuck its butt out to observe, its eyes almost pressed against Batz’s face.
Although Tang Cuo deduced there was no danger at the moment, he kept one hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, just in case. Suddenly, the puppet turned its head. “Don’t move.”
“What do you want?” Tang Cuo asked.
“How about we make a deal?” The puppet plopped down on the bed.
“You wanted to kill me yesterday,” Tang Cuo stated.
The puppet grinned broadly again, and Aesop’s voice carried a hint of amusement, “You’re much more interesting than your brother. Your name is Theodore, right?”
Tang Cuo didn’t answer.
The puppet continued talking to itself, “Trust me, you’ll agree to it. I don’t need you to kill anyone, nor do I need you to do anything against a knight’s code. I only need you to promise me one thing—don’t let Batz fall into the hands of the Rose Sect.”
Tang Cuo was slightly surprised internally but kept his expression neutral. “Why? Aren’t you from the Rose Sect too?”
“I am, but that’s not important. Besides, this was what you were going to do anyway, wasn’t it?”
“Since I was going to do it anyway, why go through the extra trouble? What are you trying to tell me? Or what are you trying to tell Roger Reeds or my brother through me?”
Aesop didn’t answer immediately. The puppet stared at Tang Cuo. After a long time, it suddenly tilted its head and said, “Perhaps you can tell Roger Reeds to stop chasing me. If he didn’t bite so hard and refuse to let go, I could protect Batz myself. Let us fight among ourselves—isn’t that more beneficial to you?”
With that, the puppet jumped off the bed, retraced its steps to the windowsill, and prepared to leave. But after it pushed the window open with its small black umbrella, it turned back and said, “Consider that secret tunnel a gift from me. You can go investigate it again; there might be some unexpected surprises.”
As its voice faded, the puppet popped open its small black umbrella, let out a cheer, and leaped down.
Tang Cuo quickly leaned out to look, but the black umbrella had already floated far away with the puppet. Tang Cuo was no match for Aesop, so naturally, he wouldn’t pursue it. Resting his hands on the windowsill, he frowned, pondering the conversation just now, momentarily unsure if Aesop was genuinely surrendering information or had ulterior motives.
At that moment, his main mission refreshed again—Bring Batz back to the Greenvines Alliance office.
Was this instructing him to put Batz under protection?
Delays breed complications.
Tang Cuo decisively woke Batz up. Batz was completely bewildered and didn’t know what was going on. But Tang Cuo couldn’t explain so much to him; he merely said that Lancelot needed them and glossed over it.
Batz had always been deeply caring toward his friends. Hearing this, he didn’t overthink it and hurriedly changed clothes to leave with Tang Cuo.
The two headed straight for St. Peter’s District.
To cut down on travel time, Tang Cuo even hired a carriage parked along the street, spending all the money he had on him. The carriage functioned like a public transport; they weren’t the only ones inside. After sitting for a while, Tang Cuo heard some very interesting gossip.
“I heard someone in Little Rock Street died and then came back to life as a corpse. It’s terrifying.”
“Really? How could such a thing happen?”
“The people from the Greenvines Alliance are there, you don’t need to worry.”
“Oh, praise Falan. I hope everything will be alright.”
Tang Cuo remained impassive, but Batz listened with a mix of worry and curiosity, unable to resist chatting with them. Through this questioning, Tang Cuo became certain this was Jin Cheng’s handiwork.
The Greenvines Alliance shouldn’t be proactively leaking this information.
This couldn’t help but give him a different idea.
Right at that moment, Tang Cuo suddenly sensed a strong surge of magic approaching. Although his magical abilities were poor, his perception was incredibly sharp. In the nick of time, he kicked open the carriage door, shoved Batz and the others out, and simultaneously drew the Sword of Judgment, slashing fiercely toward the direction of the incoming magic.
The longsword cleaved through the magical light. Tang Cuo rolled on the ground to evade the remnants, glancing behind him out of the corner of his eye. “Batz, stay close to me. Don’t run off.”
Batz nodded repeatedly, but his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of his chest. Even though he loved reading stories about knights and mages, and loved listening to the immortal poems of bards, he himself knew no sword techniques or magic!
“Aaaahh!” He saw the magic strike again, looking as if it were going to hit him right in the face.
An agile figure darted past him, wielding a sword with both hands, swift as a fierce tiger, shattering the magic once more. Batz’s eyes sparkled with awe; he practically wanted to cheer for him.
Tang Cuo, however, narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. This attack was fierce but not lethal, because the enemy’s goal was clear—they wanted to take Batz away, not kill him.
In the next second, Tang Cuo grabbed Batz’s wrist. “Let’s go!”
He decided to take Batz through the secret tunnel.
The tavern wasn’t far from where they were attacked. Tang Cuo protected Batz, fighting as they retreated. He intentionally caused a huge commotion, successfully drawing the attention of patrolling guards and the Greenvines Alliance members that Kelt had dispatched to East Street.
“Over there!” This group arrived right on time.
Seeing more and more people gathering, Tang Cuo quietly slipped into the crowd, dragging Batz along in a rapid retreat.
The people guarding the tavern recognized Theodore and let them pass after a brief inquiry. Tang Cuo used them to pass a message, asking them to notify Jin Cheng that he had taken Batz through the tunnel.
He also left behind a slip of paper.
Once everything was arranged and right before entering the tunnel, Tang Cuo suddenly stopped, turned around, and asked Batz: “Batz, we might encounter danger shortly. Do you still want to follow me?”
Batz froze for a moment, then gave a bright laugh. “Theodore, even though I don’t know what exactly is going on right now, I trust you.”
Tang Cuo looked at him and said nothing more.
About fifteen minutes later, Jin Cheng received the message that Tang Cuo had taken Batz into the tunnel, and he also saw the slip of paper. There was only one word on the paper—Bait.
Kelt didn’t know what “Bait” meant, but Jin Cheng did. Combining it with the message Tang Cuo specifically had someone pass along, Jin Cheng deduced the gist of it.
The keywords: Batz, the tunnel, and Bait.
Who was the bait?
Undoubtedly, it was Batz.
Tang Cuo took Batz, acting as bait, into the secret tunnel. But the tunnel was currently heavily guarded by the Greenvines Alliance; it would be very difficult for the Rose Sect to rush in and snatch someone. Once both ends were blocked, they would likely be trapped like rats in a barrel. Therefore, the tunnel was absolutely not a good place to launch an ambush.
Yet Tang Cuo left a simple word, “Bait”, seemingly certain the enemy would take the hook. That meant there was something fishy going on inside this tunnel.
This was what Tang Cuo truly wanted to convey.
Jin Cheng shared this deduction with Kelt, but Kelt was confused. “If that’s the case, why didn’t he just make it clearer? Theodore isn’t the type to be deliberately mystifying.”
“Kelt, do you trust every single comrade standing beside you?” Jin Cheng countered with a question. “Pastor Peter could betray the Grand Duke, so your comrades can betray you too. The eyes and ears of the Rose Sect are everywhere.”
Hearing this, Kelt subconsciously frowned. Although he really didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t refute it either, so he could only say, “I trust my comrades.”
Jin Cheng shrugged. “But that doesn’t prevent us from being a bit more cautious.”
Jin Cheng remembered the Rose emblem drawn on the blackboard at the Greenvines Alliance office in the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight. The Greenvines Alliance must have already been infiltrated by the enemy; even if they weren’t now, they would be in the future.
He figured Tang Cuo must have thought of this as well, which was why he was being so cautious.
“But we’ve already searched that tunnel thoroughly and found nothing unusual, nor did we find a second tunnel anywhere else,” Kelt remained skeptical. It wasn’t that he distrusted Theodore; he distrusted Lancelot.
He was just a bard—and a weird one at that, who had interacted with the rebel Aesop.
“Then let me ask you a question, Kelt—if those missing corpses are really in the hands of the Rose Sect, and they want to use them for something, where would they hide the bodies?”
“In a hidden place, of course.”
“Right, a hidden place. A place where whatever they do won’t be discovered. Think about it again?”
Jin Cheng guided him step-by-step. Led by his prompting, Kelt recalled the message Tang Cuo had sent, and suddenly a flash of inspiration hit him. “The tunnel?!”
Jin Cheng snapped his fingers. “Exactly, the tunnel. You guys previously speculated that there was more than one tunnel, right? Just because you haven’t found it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
Kelt couldn’t help but be convinced by him. “Then what do we do now?”
Jin Cheng: “We need to change our plans and coordinate with Theodore’s operation.”
