TTGOL CH48

Chapter 48: The Song of the Wind (7)

The bloodstains on the floor had been completely wiped clean, with only a few traces remaining where they had seeped into the cracks of the floorboards. The floor of this rental room had been trampled by countless people; its dark, dilapidated state perfectly concealed the color of the blood.

Jin Cheng used a dagger to scrape some wood shavings from the floorboard cracks. After examining them closely, he said, “The bloodstains must have been here for a long time. At the very least, they aren’t recent.”

Tang Cuo continued his search of the room and ultimately came to a conclusion. “Look at the distribution of these bloodstains. Doesn’t it look like a magic circle?”

This theory piqued Jin Cheng’s interest.

He simply fetched a basin of water, using the water as ink to connect all the bloodstains. Once the connections were complete, he stroked his chin and carefully examined the resulting pattern. “This really does look like a magic circle. And do you know which one it resembles?”

Tang Cuo understood immediately. “The unfinished painting?”

Snap. Jin Cheng snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Although some bloodstains can’t be completely filled in, based on the overall layout, this pattern is very similar to the magic circle in the painting.”

But what did this point to?

Even though the bloodstains had been there for some time—perhaps left by a previous tenant—it wouldn’t make sense if such a glaring clue didn’t point to Batz.

But how could Batz, such a kind, warm-hearted, and cheerful person, be connected to the Rose Sect’s magic circle?

Jin Cheng and Tang Cuo subsequently conducted a more detailed secondary search of the rental room, ultimately finding a piece of stationery wedged in the cracks of the bedboards. To be precise, it was a suicide note.

[Today is finally a sunny day. The wind pushed open the window, and the wind chimes rang again. Ding-dang, ding-dang, it sounds so lovely.

The cold will eventually pass, right?

When this winter passes, beautiful music will once again echo through the streets. Beibei Bakery will have new flavors for their jam tarts, because the berries in Yorkshire are about to ripen again.

I look forward to it so much.

Everything will get better.

And the news of my death, I hope only the wind will know.]

It was a suicide note that didn’t quite read like one; it left no final arrangements and bore no signature, but Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng unanimously felt its author was Batz.

Pushing open the window to look outside, the haphazard black houses looked as if they were at constant risk of collapsing, and the people living inside were like weeds. Which weed would sincerely look forward to the arrival of music and yearn for Beibei Bakery’s jam tarts?

Batz, with his red cotton-candy-like hair.

“He must have been sick, writing this letter when he was near death. The timeframe would be last winter, which is half a year ago,” Jin Cheng said, his gaze falling back onto the room’s only wooden bed, as if he could see a bedridden Batz lingering there.

He continued, “This explains why he knew Doctor Albert. Doctor Albert is connected to the Rose Sect, which is why a magic circle appeared in his room.”

The clues were linked together one by one, and the truth gradually surfaced. But if this series of events was a chain, they were still missing a few crucial links.

For instance, did Doctor Albert ultimately cure Batz, resulting in the magic circle being wiped away? And was there any connection between Batz’s situation and Lisa’s situation, as well as the issue of Pastor Peter’s faction?

The two subsequently left the rental room, bought some food on the street, and discussed their next move while eating. The main mission hadn’t updated yet. It was likely intended for them to investigate the White Leaf District and uncover a specific result to trigger the next part of the plot.

Jin Cheng crouched on the curb without a care for his image and asked, “You’re the detective, where do we go next?”

As a noble knight, Tang Cuo naturally stood ramrod straight; even eating the cheapest flatbread couldn’t diminish his aura. After a moment of thought, he said, “Both had magic circles. Lisa died, yet Batz is alive. What do you think is the difference?”

“Different guides? Lisa corresponds to Pastor Peter, and Batz corresponds to Doctor Albert. Meaning, the two of them aren’t from the same faction?”

“Perhaps.”

Tang Cuo bit off the last piece of flatbread and said, “I want to go see Lisa’s corpse.”

Twenty minutes later, the two successfully arrived at the courtyard that collected corpses.

Taking the same route, Jin Cheng and Tang Cuo crouched side-by-side on the roof next door, taking in the situation inside from a high vantage point. However, Jin Cheng took just one look and said, “The corpses have been moved.”

It was already dusk. About five hours had passed since Jin Cheng discovered the corpse trade; it was entirely possible that the bodies had been gathered and shipped out. According to that mustached man, the corpses would be transported to the Kingdom of Locke and sold to noble necromancers.

“Using corpses to experiment with necromancy?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any other explanation. It appears the necromancers on the Sicilite Continent aren’t universally despised like in some Western fantasy stories. They actually use money to buy corpses. Although this trade doesn’t sound very humane, if you think about it carefully, they aren’t robbing graves and they aren’t using living people—it’s quite legitimate.”

With that, Jin Cheng’s eyes darted around, and he simply went down openly to knock on the door.

Tang Cuo remained on the roof, watching.

The one who opened the door was the servant responsible for sprinkling preservation powder on the corpses. Jin Cheng put on a bitter face, claiming he had a corpse to sell and wanted to ask about the price. The servant quoted a price, but he expressed dissatisfaction and demanded to see the boss.

The servant’s attitude was cold and rigid, laced with a hint of impatience. Ultimately, he merely stated the boss went to the harbor to deliver goods and sent Jin Cheng away.

The harbor was right in the White Leaf District.

The Principality of Falan had a wide river that ran across most of its territory called the Honeywind River. More than half of the principality’s cargo transportation relied on it. Heading east led to Little Windmill Harbour, and heading south led to the Kingdom of Hundred Flowers; it was a much better route than traveling by land.

The two immediately hurried to the harbor district.

After nightfall, the harbor remained brightly lit, as if all the lights in the White Leaf District had been gathered there to form the sole patch of brightness in the dark night. Laborers in coarse clothes carried cargo back and forth—boatload after boatload, cartload after cartload. From a distance, the harbor manager could be heard shouting reprimands.

“All of you, be careful! If you accidentally drop the goods and the noble lords pass down blame, can any of you afford to pay for it?!”

From a distance, Tang Cuo couldn’t see the man’s specific facial features. The evening breeze carried the faint fishy smell of river water mixed with the scent of sweat; it wasn’t a very pleasant smell.

The two searched for a long time but couldn’t find their target. Beating around the bush to ask the NPCs didn’t yield any information on whether the corpse-trading boat had left or not.

Instead, an old boatman smoking cheap tobacco warned them, “Young lads, don’t ask so many questions. Otherwise, before you find the corpses, you yourselves might end up turning into corpses.”

Tang Cuo looked thoughtful.

Jin Cheng went to a nearby tavern, bought a bottle of wine, and gave it to the old boatman, smiling as he asked, “I’ll just ask one question: did you really not see a boat transporting corpses?”

The old boatman accepted the wine and grinned, revealing yellow-black teeth. “I sure haven’t. I’ve been here for over a decade and I’ve never seen any boat transporting corpses.”

Jin Cheng and Tang Cuo exchanged a look. Something fishy was going on.

The two got up and headed back. Tang Cuo said, “Someone is lying.”

Jin Cheng crossed his arms, amused. “Who do you think is lying?”

Tang Cuo: “The people collecting the corpses.”

Jin Cheng: “You think they never shipped the corpses out of Falan at all?”

The old boatman was just a random passerby NPC they had picked; he wasn’t a key character and had no reason to tell such a lie. What did “never seen a boat transporting corpses” mean? It meant the merchants had abandoned the much more convenient and faster waterway in favor of the land route.

Corpses weren’t easy to transport like candlesticks. If they took the land route, how many carriages would they have to prepare? Traveling on the road with a massive pile of dead bodies was excessively bizarre; anyone with a functioning brain wouldn’t choose the land route.

Therefore, the corpses definitely had to still be in Falan. And the true purpose behind those people trading corpses was highly suspicious.

Was it really connected to the necromancers of the Kingdom of Locke?

The Grand Duke’s assassination attempt, the cathedral attack, the transported corpses… The events that had transpired over this single day flashed through Tang Cuo’s mind one by one. He suddenly frowned and broke into a sprint back toward the courtyard from earlier.

Jin Cheng likely guessed what he was thinking. The two rushed back, only to find they were still too late.

The courtyard had already been vacated.

Tang Cuo’s face darkened, unsure if they had spooked the people away, or if they had been prepared to retreat all along.

At this moment, Jin Cheng leisurely caught up from behind. Seeing this scene, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. A flash of inspiration struck him, and he asked with a smile, “Didn’t you want to look at a corpse? Do you know where else in the White Leaf District there is a corpse right now?”

Tang Cuo: “The cathedral.”

Following the assassination attempt on the Grand Duke today, Pastor Peter had been killed inside the cathedral. His corpse was handled by the royal guards, and the cathedral had been temporarily taken over by them. Since only half a day had passed, the body should still be there.

Afraid that another complication might arise if they arrived late, Tang Cuo even used his Sprint skill. Under the moonlit night, two figures parkoured across the rooftops, covering the distance from the courtyard to the cathedral in a mere fifteen minutes, startling the soldiers guarding the door.

Moving with lightning speed, Tang Cuo flashed the Greenvines Alliance emblem in front of the soldier’s eyes and pushed the door open to walk straight in. The soldier was half a beat slow to react, but didn’t step forward to stop him either.

People from the Greenvines Alliance—the higher-ups had said this matter was under their jurisdiction anyway.

Inside the quiet cathedral, only a few soldiers were dozing off while hugging their swords. The hurried footsteps startled them awake; terrified, they drew their swords and looked around in confusion, coming face-to-face with Theodore’s handsome visage.

“Where is Peter’s corpse?” he asked.

“In… in the center of the courtyard, we just buried him.” Someone recognized him, steadied themselves, and stepped forward. “The Grand Duke ordered it, to let him be buried in this cathedral. We even prepared a coffin for him.”

Already buried?

Tang Cuo frowned slightly.

Seeing this, the man asked cautiously, “May I ask what you want with his corpse, Sir Knight? Peter’s body has already been examined and there was nothing unusual, otherwise we wouldn’t have buried him.”

Tang Cuo didn’t answer.

Jin Cheng’s voice came from behind him. “If he’s buried, dig him up. The worst that happens is we just bury him back again.”

“Ah?”

The royal guards’ confusion persisted until the moon reached the middle of the sky.

Five soldiers, each with a shovel, worked diligently in the center of the courtyard to dig up the dirt, unearthing the freshly buried coffin. Meanwhile, the two lords who insisted on grave-robbing in the middle of the night stood on the left and right, supervising the entire process.

The atmosphere was exceedingly bizarre.

What was even more bizarre was that when they pushed the coffin lid open together, they found the coffin inside was completely empty.

“Where’s the corpse?!”

“How could this be? I clearly saw him being buried!”

“A-A ghost!”

The soldiers dropped their shovels, staggering back in fear one by one. Tang Cuo, however, walked over to the coffin. He reached out and carefully felt along the inner walls, then observed the bloodstains stuck to the bottom of the coffin.

Jin Cheng held up a lantern for him. “Peter’s wound was on his back near the heart. The position of this bloodstain is correct, and there’s no issue with how dry the blood is.”

Tang Cuo: “Where do you think he went?”

Jin Cheng shrugged. “Perhaps he’s hiding in some corner peeking at us.”

This theory was far too terrifying. The soldiers retreated several steps in fright, looking around wildly as if a ghost might lunge at them in the next second.

Tang Cuo opened his system panel and discovered the main mission had finally updated.

Jin Cheng saw it too and asked, “Mine is to find Peter and relay the clues to Kelt. What’s yours?”

Tang Cuo didn’t want to speak.

[Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight]

Second Phase: Song of the Whispering Wind

Main Mission: Return to the rental room to recuperate, and wait for Batz.

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Author’s Note:

Jin Cheng & Tang Cuo: Professional grave robbers for a hundred years.