Soon, Batz also entered the secret room and took in the astonishing sight within. He couldn’t help but recall the mage’s claim that he was already dead; his face paled, and his legs trembled.
“Th-Theodore, what exactly is going on here?”
While in the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight, Tang Cuo had flipped through almost every magic book in the school library. Combining that knowledge with what he had witnessed since arriving in the Principality of Falan, he asked, “Batz, have you ever heard of the necromancers from the Kingdom of Locke?”
Batz instinctively shook his head, but then remembered something and said, “I know! I’ve heard other bards and traveling merchants talk about them. They always deal with corpses, can control the undead, and hide from the light all year round. They’re terrifying.”
As he spoke, a realization hit him, and he violently took a step back. “I-Is this the laboratory of those necromancers?”
Tang Cuo shook his head.
Not necessarily. The Rose Sect’s magic had its own distinct style but didn’t completely deviate from conventional bounds. Furthermore, with the element of the Well of Time involved, this couldn’t be simple necromancy.
Tang Cuo walked over to one of the iron cages, drew his sword, and cut a slit into the corpse’s arm. This body was relatively well-preserved—its face wasn’t heavily discolored, it hadn’t begun to rot, and more importantly, it could still bleed.
The blood was warm and carried the familiar aura of the Well of Time.
He then returned to the high altar and carefully examined Lisa’s body. Lisa was undoubtedly the most lifelike among all the corpses here; there was even a hint of color in her cheeks.
When he reached out to touch her, the body still retained some residual warmth. Using the same method, Tang Cuo once again sensed the aura of the Well of Time emanating from her.
What did this mean?
If Batz was like them, then he was the only successful resurrection—a person whose behavior was indistinguishable from the living. As a successful prototype, it was perfectly understandable why the Rose Sect wanted to capture him.
Eternal life bestowed by the Undying King. This must be the core of the Rose Sect’s faith.
The rebel Aesop was not a pure believer; he had defected midway, so his faith likely wasn’t orthodox. Yet, it was this very rebel who had successfully resurrected Batz.
The faction led by the red-robed high priest represented the most loyal, fanatical believers. It made sense that they had a schism with Aesop. Putting himself in their shoes, Tang Cuo figured that to them, whoever controlled Batz held the authority of the Undying King in the mortal realm.
Eternal life—that was the forbidden domain of the gods.
Ultimately, necromancy was merely the manipulation of the dead. From the lowest skeletons to rotting ghouls and liches, none could be considered truly alive.
In contrast, Batz was far too successful. He didn’t even know he had died.
Clang, clang! The half-human, half-ghost “zombies” were still slamming against their iron cages, letting out low growls. Chunks of rotting flesh fell from their faces, mixed with drool.
Lisa still looked as though she were alive, but she showed no signs of waking up. In the side mission, her painting remained unfinished; Tang Cuo felt she would never wake again.
Judging from her letter, Pastor Peter had a relatively close relationship with her and likely held high hopes for her. Yet Lisa had written that while roses might fulfill Peter’s wish, she herself had no need for it.
She didn’t want to live.
What was Peter’s wish? To create a kingdom without death?
While Tang Cuo was lost in thought, Batz was utterly terrified, trying his hardest to suppress the urge to run for his life. “Theodore, will I turn into something like them? I-I just got sick. I didn’t die, right?”
He looked at Tang Cuo pleadingly, but Tang Cuo couldn’t lie to him. Lies would be exposed eventually. Batz had already reached this crossroads of fate, and he had to keep walking.
In Tang Cuo’s silence, Batz’s mental state slowly crumbled. Watching him look so desperate and helpless, crouching on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head, on the verge of breaking down in tears, Tang Cuo finally couldn’t help but say, “Batz, you are still mine and Lancelot’s friend.”
Batz’s head snapped up. “Really?”
Just as Tang Cuo was about to answer, he caught sight of another passage opening on the wall of the secret room, right behind him. Instantly on high alert, he whipped around—coming face-to-face with several people rushing out of the tunnel.
“Step back,” Tang Cuo ordered Batz coldly, raising his sword to fight without another word.
The newcomers were equally stunned, clearly not expecting a stranger to be standing in the secret room. But they quickly reacted, and after scanning the crouching Batz, everything clicked.
“The real Batz is here!” one of them shouted, and the rest charged forward. Someone questioned where the guards who were supposed to be stationed here had gone, but Tang Cuo’s blade gave them no time to think. They could only curse as they fought:
“That damn blasphemer!”
Tang Cuo didn’t know who they were cursing, but he figured Jin Cheng must have run interference for him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have met such little resistance.
The fight grew increasingly fierce.
The enemy had numbers on their side. Relying on the Sword of Judgment and his Holy Light Shield, Tang Cuo somewhat managed to hold the line alone, but he also had to protect Batz, which heavily restricted his movements.
Just then, a violent tremor shook the ceiling of the secret room.
“What’s going on?!” someone cried out.
Tang Cuo paid it no mind. Taking advantage of their distraction, he slashed into the enemy ranks like lightning, his blade flashing silver as he instantly took down one person.
Boom! The tremor intensified, feeling like an earthquake that sent everyone stumbling. Tang Cuo pulled back, glancing up, his internal theory confirmed.
They were definitely right beneath the cathedral. What was happening up there?
Was it Jin Cheng?
“It’s collapsing!”
“Take cover!!!”
Amidst the screams, giant fissures cracked open across the ceiling. Dust and rubble cascaded down, blinding everyone. The fight was forced to a halt, and Tang Cuo decisively pulled Batz back into the tunnel.
Before leaving, he took one last look at the high altar. Lisa’s body still lay there, peaceful and serene. Light spilled in from the shattered ceiling, illuminating her powdered face, making her look strikingly beautiful.
The next second, Tang Cuo turned and left. Endless debris crashed down, burying her from sight forever.
Above ground, the clash between the Greenvines Alliance and the Rose Sect had reached a fever pitch.
Furious, the Rose Sect immediately launched a massive attack, directly destroying the entire wall covered in red paint and causing the cathedral to collapse with a deafening roar. However, they hadn’t anticipated that Kelt had set up so many magic circles and traps inside. When the cathedral fell, all these traps triggered simultaneously. Not only did the above-ground structure collapse, but a massive crater was blown straight into the earth.
Jin Cheng was fast. By the time the cathedral collapsed, he had already reached the roof of a building across the street, holding his small lap harp and taking in the entire scene.
Suddenly, he spotted a figure standing alone at a street corner. Although obscured by darkness, that pure white pastor’s robe acted like a beacon in the night, guiding Jin Cheng’s way.
Pastor Peter had finally appeared.
Jin Cheng had thought he wouldn’t be able to draw him out, but to his surprise, he showed up at the last minute. Jin Cheng immediately gave chase.
Peter noticed him too. He took one last deep look at the ruins of the cathedral—as if trying to peer deep underground—before decisively turning and leaving at top speed.
But Jin Cheng was incredibly fast. The system restricted his skills, but not his base physical speed. He even found a moment to glance at the system panel; the main mission had finally refreshed.
Current Main Mission: Converse with Peter.
“Peter, Batz hasn’t been found yet. What are you running for?” Finding the right opening, Jin Cheng leaped down from the roof and blocked Peter’s path. He looked relaxed, but his fingers remained tightly curled around his harp strings, not letting his guard down in the slightest.
“All of you seem to love chasing after me,” Peter stopped.
“All of you?” Jin Cheng mulled over the words and smiled. “Never mind that, Peter. Hiding in the shadows like this, what exactly are you trying to do?”
Peter: “Things have come this far, and you still don’t understand?”
Jin Cheng: “Of course I don’t, but I can tell you aren’t a devout believer of the Rose Sect, either. So many of them just wanted to tear me to pieces, yet you look at me without a shred of anger. Perhaps you should go have a chat with the rebel Aesop; you two might find a lot of common ground.”
Peter offered no comment. His expression slowly shifted from initial wariness to tranquility. By the time he met Jin Cheng’s eyes again, his gaze had returned to being compassionate and benevolent.
“I recognize you. You are Batz’s friend. He has returned from the dead; shouldn’t you feel happy? Or is your friendship, and the care he showed you, not enough for you to break through the secular prejudices and truly accept him?”
Jin Cheng: “Are you lecturing me?”
Peter shook his head. “Are you truly not happy for him? In this White Leaf District, people die silently every single day just like Batz. People struggle in despair, completely powerless to stop it, forced to watch lives slip away. In a person’s life, there are always one or two people who are important, aren’t there?”
“So do you see the suffering of the masses, or did you see the suffering of one specific person?” Jin Cheng sharply picked up on something, his gaze turning piercing. “Who do you want to resurrect?”
Peter’s smile grew even more sorrowful. He placed a hand over his heart and, as if praying to a deity, devoutly uttered a single word: “Myself.”
Jin Cheng frowned. “You?”
“What does the suffering of the masses matter? With a body of flesh and blood, I ultimately cannot change anything. Just as he is the Grand Duke, yet is still constrained by many factions, unable to realize the ideals in his heart. But a god can.”
“You want to become a god?”
Jin Cheng felt an overwhelming sense of absurdity.
He never imagined Peter’s ambition was this massive. Was he out of his mind?
But Peter didn’t answer Jin Cheng’s question. Instead, he asked, “Lancelot, you come from the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight, don’t you?”
This time, it was Jin Cheng who didn’t answer. He began to re-evaluate this seemingly ordinary pastor, and a theory formed in his mind: Peter had spoken so much to him perhaps precisely because he came from the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight.
If Peter defected to the Rose Sect, it must be because they could help him achieve his ambition. Therefore, this so-called “resurrection” definitely wasn’t that simple. Between the Rose Sect’s magic circles and the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight’s Well of Time, which one was the key?
The answer was likely the Well of Time.
Seeing Jin Cheng lost in thought, Peter said no more and slowly backed away. At that moment, several members of the Rose Sect rushed over from behind, firmly shielding Peter.
The two sides stood at a standoff.
Peter gave Jin Cheng a polite nod, then turned and left.
Jin Cheng didn’t pursue him because he noticed his main mission had updated again: Return to the Greenvines Alliance office and find Batz.
Right, Batz!
It hit Jin Cheng like a ton of bricks. Batz was just like Peter—they were both people who had returned from the dead. If Peter’s ambition was to become a god who ruled over everything, then what about Batz?
What had Aesop entrusted him with?
Realizing this, Jin Cheng immediately shook off the Rose Sect members and rushed toward the Greenvines Alliance office.
On the other side, Tang Cuo finally led Batz out of the secret tunnel and safely returned to the office. The office felt much emptier than last time, as Kelt had dispatched most of the ordinary members, leaving only a skeleton crew behind.
For Batz’s safety, Tang Cuo took him straight to the second floor. The second he stepped onto the landing, his main mission updated.
But before he could check it, a dull ache assaulted his brain.
“Ding!”
“Detected that the player’s mission line has changed. According to the original plot, the Knight Theodore sustained severe injuries after consecutive battles. The player will immediately enter ‘Coma’ mode.”
Tang Cuo collapsed. He still retained his consciousness and could perceive everything around him, but his body just crumpled to the floor. His eyes were forced shut, and he couldn’t move a muscle.
Panicking, Batz frantically shook his shoulders. The others rushed over and carried him into a room. Theodore had his own temporary quarters in the office.
Once everything was settled, Tang Cuo lay in bed, still completely immobilized.
“Theodore, may the gods protect you. Please be alright,” Batz kept his eyes glued to Tang Cuo, refusing to leave his side.
Tang Cuo could only listen; he couldn’t do anything.
As time ticked by, Tang Cuo didn’t know when Theodore was supposed to wake up, making him feel inexplicably anxious. He guessed that Theodore’s body hadn’t recovered since the fight with Aesop, and the strain of escorting Batz back had finally caused him to collapse.
But the system hadn’t forced him to collapse earlier; making it happen now had to mean something.
Tang Cuo wanted to open the mission panel, but with his eyes forced closed, he couldn’t see a thing.
After an unknown amount of time, a familiar tapping at the window sounded. Tang Cuo frowned; the sound was far too familiar. He had just heard it this morning at Batz’s rental.
He wanted to tell Batz to ignore it, but he couldn’t. His previously clear consciousness was also beginning to blur.
Creak. The window was pushed open.
Batz’s footsteps moved away, then approached again. Tang Cuo’s consciousness faded further. After a while, he felt Batz sit back down beside him, forcing himself to speak to him in a rambling whisper.
“Theodore, I am so happy you became my friend. You and Lancelot are rare, good people in this world. Meeting you was my greatest fortune.”
“Theodore, this recent period has been the happiest time of my life. I never thought that I was already dead and shouldn’t exist in this world anymore, but I don’t regret it. You guys made me feel like the luckiest person alive.”
“…”
“Theodore, the new jam pies at Beibei’s Bakery are really delicious.” At the very end, his voice was still full of anticipation, though laced with what sounded like choked-back sobs. But Tang Cuo couldn’t hear him anymore.
He slipped into a complete coma.
Time flew by.
“Tang Cuo? Tang Cuo!” The next time Tang Cuo regained consciousness, he heard his own name. His senses snapped back, and he sat up abruptly, looking around, but Batz was nowhere to be seen.
Only Jin Cheng was by the bed.
“Where is Batz?” he asked.
“He left,” Jin Cheng said, handing him a slip of paper. The handwriting was identical to the suicide note—crooked and not particularly pretty, but exuding a stubborn vitality and rustic sincerity.
[To my dear friends Theodore and Lancelot:
I am leaving.
Please forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye, and forgive my selfishness and cowardice, for I have no way to face everything that comes next. I wish you all the best.
Do not look for me.
—Batz]
Tang Cuo silently clenched the letter. The paper was heavily wrinkled, likely soaked by countless tears. After a moment of silence, he said, “It was Aesop. Aesop took Batz away.”
Jin Cheng wasn’t surprised by the answer. He glanced at the door and said, “Roger Reeds is back too.”
Roger Reeds had tracked Aesop all the way out of the city to the estate, and then back into the city, but he had still been a step too late.
Half an hour later, Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng found him on the roof of the office building.
Roger Reeds stood against the wind, leaning on his cane. His gaze swept over the broad, pristine avenues of the St. Paul District, stretching past the milky-white cathedral architecture, looking far into the distance—toward the White Leaf District, and perhaps the entire continent.
Hearing their footsteps, he didn’t turn around. “A storm is coming.”
The two exchanged a look. Having shared all their information, Jin Cheng raised an eyebrow and asked, “Lord Roger Reeds, may I ask who exactly the Undying King is?”
Roger Reeds finally turned around, his cold gaze sweeping over them. After a long silence, he spoke: “This is a secret history that should have been sealed away in dust. But since you have already brushed up against it, I will tell you. However, you must remember—no matter what happens, never forget the original conviction you held when you first stepped onto this continent.”
Hearing this, both nodded simultaneously.
Roger Reeds turned back toward the horizon, where a storm seemed to be brewing deep within the clouds. “The Rose Sect originated from the Tucha Dynasty during the Dark Ages. At that time, the rose was the totem of the royal family. The final king of the Tucha Dynasty was Louis XIV, known to the Rose Sect as the Undying King, the Undying Rose.”
Jin Cheng: “What does this have to do with the Well of Time?”
“As you have likely deduced, the Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight was once the capital of the Tucha Dynasty.” Roger Reeds tightened his grip on his cane. “The Well of Time is tied to the secret of eternal life; that is the forbidden domain of the gods. Louis XIV was perverse, arrogant, and tyrannical. His vain attempt to peer into that forbidden domain caused the downfall of the entire dynasty. The Moonlight City was permanently sealed beneath the yellow sands, and the rose, as the royal totem, vanished from the Sicilite Continent forever.”
He paused, then continued, “But a legend has always circulated across the continent: a thousand years later, when the wheel of time turns again, the Undying Rose will bloom once more. He is returning.”
Wow.
Jin Cheng hadn’t expected the scale of this plot to expand so massively. This was only the second phase; wouldn’t the next phase be even harder? He couldn’t help but ask, “How is he returning? In what form?”
This time, Roger Reeds didn’t answer immediately. He turned his back to the increasingly visible storm on the horizon. His single eye stared deeply at Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng, his expression grave.
After a long while, he said, “According to the latest intelligence from headquarters, the Rose Sect’s magic circles are engraved with a soul sacrifice ritual. This means your friend Batz, or perhaps Pastor Peter, might be the vessel for the Rose.”
“Are you mentally prepared for this? When you meet him next, how will you face him?”
Rumble—
As his words fell, the storm finally revealed its true face. Terrifying black clouds rapidly swallowed the sky, and lightning and torrential rain brewed aggressively. Under such overwhelming momentum, people in both the St. Paul District and the White Leaf District looked up, riddled with anxiety.
Crash— the downpour struck.
Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng didn’t stay on the roof much longer, and Roger Reeds said no more. Surprisingly, he didn’t blame Jin Cheng for the chaos in the White Leaf District. He merely gave him a meaningful look before hurrying off to handle other matters.
All the messy aftermath was dumped onto Kelt.
Kelt complained incessantly about it.
But Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng were unscrupulous slackers who naturally wouldn’t share his burden. Furthermore, their main missions had finally merged again.
Current Main Mission: Play “Song of the Whispering Wind”.
The sheet music was provided to Jin Cheng by the system alongside the mission. It was handwritten, signed with Lancelot’s name. Looking at the slightly rushed handwriting, blurred by water stains, Jin Cheng could vaguely imagine the state of mind Lancelot was in when he composed it.
“Let’s go. We need to find a good place to play,” Jin Cheng said.
By this time, the storm had just stopped.
The two walked shoulder-to-shoulder, unknowingly returning to the White Leaf District. The wind and rain had washed over the area, flushing years of grime and filth into the exposed tunnels. Everything looked chaotic, yet somehow much cleaner.
Some wept before the collapsed ruins.
Some stood on their tiptoes, peering curiously into the tunnels.
Everyone was like a weed, leaning this way and that, living in their own stubborn way.
To their pleasant surprise, the Beibei’s Bakery that sold jam pies was still open.
A string of wind chimes hung by the door of Beibei House. When Tang Cuo pushed the door open, the chimes rang, and a cute, round-faced girl looked up from her busy work. “Welcome!”
Two jam pies completely emptied the last of Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng’s pockets. As she handed over the pies, the girl recognized them, her smile growing much more genuine.
“It’s you! Lancelot, and the other one is named Th-Theodore, right? Batz mentioned you guys to me so many times. He kept saying he was going to bring you here to try the newest jam pie flavors, but he never did. I finally get to meet you today.”
She paused, blushing slightly as she peered out the door. “Where is Batz? Why don’t I see him?”
Tang Cuo suddenly found himself at a loss for words, not wanting to say anything at all.
Jin Cheng took the pies and said, “He had some business and went on a long trip.”
“I see.” The girl’s smile froze for a split second. She quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and lowered her head, pretending to be busy.
When she looked up again, the shop was empty.
Carrying their pies, Tang Cuo and Jin Cheng continued wandering the streets. They passed East Street, detoured to check on the collapsed cathedral, and finally arrived at the docks, which were temporarily shut down due to the storm.
The docks looked very different from usual. Countless laborers were squatting against the walls, lined up like gray mushrooms sprouting after the rain.
“Here is good,” Jin Cheng pulled out his small lap harp, sat on a low mooring post used for tying ropes, and popped the last bite of pie into his mouth.
The owner of the breakfast shop that sold black bread and potato soup poked his head out. Seeing Jin Cheng, he muttered about why this weird bard was back again, but this time, he didn’t interrupt.
In this quiet moment, he suddenly felt that a little music wouldn’t be so bad.
The melodious tune soon drifted into the air above the docks, carrying the scent of the free wind, wrapped in an unconscious sorrow. As spring drew to a close, it brought a trace of refreshing coolness.
On the vast lake, amidst the misty wind, tall sails could faintly be seen unfurling as another ship embarked on a journey.
[As for the news of my death, I hope only the wind knows.]
Tang Cuo recalled the line from Batz’s suicide note. “Song of the Whispering Wind”—the name of this instance felt incredibly fitting in this exact moment. He thought about it expressionlessly, raising the now-cold jam pie to take a bite.
Actually, this flavor… is a bit too sweet.
“Ding!”
“Congratulations to the players for successfully completing Phase Two of the Serial Mission [Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight]: Song of the Whispering Wind.
Difficulty: Hard.
Side Mission Completion Rate: 95%.
Rating: A.
Character Points Awarded: 30.”
“Please check the system panel for individual rewards.”
“Welcome back to Yong Ye City!”
—
Author’s Note:
The framework for this serial instance is finally laid out, and all the plot threads are mostly connected. The next part is very simple—
The Greenvines Alliance VS The Rose Sect.
Right now, the Greenvines Alliance only has one key figure: Roger Reeds, plus Kelt, the workhorse. The Rose Sect has internal strife and is split into two factions, making them slightly more complicated, but you only need to remember three key figures: the rebel Aesop, Batz, and Pastor Peter, along with the general plot.
As for cannon fodder like the red-robed high priest, he doesn’t even get a name.
The upcoming phases will pick key nodes in this overarching story to focus on, and the pacing will speed up a bit. I will try to keep all story-heavy instances to under twelve chapters.
