An ax crashed through the door, splintering wood everywhere, showing the owner's impatience. Uriel opened the lock before he kicked it. "it's me."
"That's impossible to say," said Edward.
The visitor was alone, without even a horse. Edward "The Barber" was lame and never rode a horse. Compared with learning to guard, this person added a pair of crutches to himself according to his body's needs. He was inseparable from it on weekdays, and the end of the stick was polished smooth. But now, he wears a red seven-pointed star and a new crutch. For Edward, this was quite a change of appearance.
…besides the iconic hairstyle. Seeing the apprentice, the man shook out the sawdust from his messy hair and looked up and down without reservation: "But in terms of results, there is no other person in the city who can deal with demons so easily. We don't have anyone else. The High Circle Mystic.”
"I made a mistake, and I have corrected it now." Uriel stuffed the phylactery into his pocket, not planning to let it see the light of day again in the short term. He stepped aside to let the "barber" into the room. "I'm not going to wear that stupid hat again. Forget it." But he was a little curious, "How did you notice it?"
"It has nothing to do with the hat, the key is the prayer. Although we don't know each other, I don't think people like you should have a good impression of Lucia."
"Favorability is more subjective." Edward didn't move, and Uriel knew that the other person actually didn't completely believe him. "There is only bait for the Society, their real intentions are not carried out here. Daisy Weaver is dead." And you took her cane.
"It seems that you still investigated a lot of things."
Not half as good as you, the apprentice thought. Della Sinsena's investigative skills are not worth mentioning. The source of intelligence relies entirely on newspapers. Her whereabouts are like a fire in the night, and the guards of the Inspiration Society are members of the most sensitive group in Knox. While being a hunter, he was most likely from the Weaver family, which prevented him from dying at the hands of Daisy. But for now, it seems that this sense of kinship only ends there.
There are cooler reasons, too. For example, Dai Qian knew that he was still in secret contact with his colleagues and only used him as bait. After all, demon hunters who fight against syndicates never fight alone. Nowadays, the secret society controls the city, and everyone knows how to be careful about what they say and do...except the psychics who still roam the streets.
Edward "Sweeney" was different. He didn't fall for Daisy's trick, and only let Uriel learn to interact with Inspiration. Maybe he had noticed Della, Uriel couldn't help but wonder. The Weaver family was already involved with the devil, and coupled with the changes in the society, it was natural for Edward to target them.
So they reached a cooperation invisibly. Uriel takes advantage of the danger to regain his freedom, Daisy lures away the demon hunter, and Edward takes revenge with blood. We each get what we need.
"Washmouth Restoration Legion." Uriel said the name of the secret society. "You better be prepared."
"Ha! In fact, unless the Fulcrum of Order army attacks the border, we have no chance of winning."
Uriel frowned: "What do you mean?" Is the association that controls the city as powerful as the "Starless Night"?
"To put it simply, our opponent is the elite of a country." The barber tapped his cane, "Sir, do you know where this place is?"
"Outside the Yinsman border. The border between the kingdom and Brestatik." He had no impression of this city. "Should it be Bliss's border area, or a neutral area? There seems to be no lord here."
"It's the former. It's not surprising that there is no lord." Edward smiled, "This place is too dilapidated, too dangerous, and the benefits are meager. No one wants to come unless they are exiled by the emperor."
"exile?"
He shrugged. "Before the War of the Saints, this place was the territory of the Kingdom of Washimath. The Brasians blew up their city walls, massacred their civilians, and exterminated the descendants of the royal family. This place became the border territory of the empire. It is a pity that regardless of whether the emperor sent No matter how outstanding a lord is, he never survives more than a year."
Uriel understood. "There are remnants of the Washimath Kingdom here." He thought of the tower's vassal state, San Carlos, which was also the Mist City of the Motog people. It seems that the Washimuthians are more determined than the Motog nobles.
"Not just an ordinary remnant." Edward narrowed his eyes and looked unhappy. "Ordinary people are not willing to associate with demons. It is said that the Washimouth Restoration Legion is an army led by demons. Not only are mortals not afraid, but they also obey their commands and become soldiers. When Emperor Buress sent the lords, these bastards were not like this Be honest." He shifted the weight of his legs and crutches. "Maybe it's because the lord died too quickly. The locals haven't found their Mr. Right yet, eh?"
"Honestly? I think it's quite orderly here."
"You came at an unlucky time, sir. The Liberation Army has taken control of the entire city, resumed production and trade, and hanged bandits and murderers. This is not the case under the hands of our demon hunters and the Public Security Bureau."
The apprentice raised an eyebrow. "It is a strange thing that the invader is more competent than the master."
"It's not strange, sir. There are noble families everywhere, but there are two completely different situations between having lords and not having lords, let alone not even having a lord... The ancestors of the Restoration Legion are the owners of the land, and they regard this place as their own. Of course, you have to take care of your property. You know Daisy Weaver, right?"
"I killed her." Uriel thought of the woman he met in front of the Inspiration Society. At that time, she was full of energy, and her gold, silver and jewelry made her as powerful as a rainbow. Della had seen the photos of Daisy when she was a demon hunter on death row. Even though they were all of her, there was no similarity at all between the two. Obviously Daisy Weaver's change is inseparable from the rule of the demon society in the city.
No wonder she maintains a secret society. After the Nameless Ones took over the city, Daisy Weaver no longer had to worry about counting the days of punishment for the devil's crimes.
Edward leaned on the ornate crutch, freeing his hand to dig into his pocket. "This woman was sentenced to death for communicating with the devil."
"Could it be a lie?"
"Maybe. If you buy a loaf of bread from the devil and pay the devil two coins, who says this isn't communication?" The barber shook his head. "We all know the virtue of the noble lord. Maybe she is very innocent. In short, this woman has bad luck, and the Weaver family she comes from should bear most of the responsibility for this. Is there any fire?"
"Ms. Daisy is a victim of the noble struggle." He finally found the target and signaled to Uriel. The apprentice had to help him light it. The guy looked grateful and puffed on his pipe. "Someone framed her."
It worked out well, Uriel thought, she might as well make it real. Daisy Weaver joined the association and became the head of the Weaver family. The apprentice cannot judge her actions, maybe she just wants to survive...and get revenge. The woman's joyful smile as she died appeared in his mind.
"It's better to have lords." Although these people were originally nobles, they would not forget themselves in the struggle between local families.
The barber snorted. "It doesn't matter if frogs come to rule this swamp. Restoration? Damn it, do whatever you want, it's none of my business. I just want them dead."
"It's very difficult to do this kind of thing." The Washimouth Restoration Army is essentially the last remaining force of the Kingdom, in other words, it is equivalent to the Royal Army. Judging from their unrelenting assassination of Lord Bures, there is undoubtedly a good hand in this group of subjugated ministers. It was probably Gao Huan, or an unknown person who had changed jobs.
In this way, let alone the local demon hunters, Uriel thought to himself, even if the Holy Knights came to quell the chaos, they would have to think twice about the risks. If the Paladin is damaged, it will definitely be more than worth the loss for Lammons. After all, the war is imminent, and the "starless night" is the most dangerous enemy.
"That's true, but you see, I'm a generous person, and revenge doesn't necessarily mean cutting off the roots."
Uriel couldn't help but look at him. This man leaned on a cane in one hand and held an ax resolutely in the other hand. He wanted to let the apprentice light his pipe no matter what. He probably did this because of the embarrassment caused to him by the Ring Sauron at the dinner table. To the apprentice, it was a trivial matter hundreds of years ago. "All right."
"I can only cause some trouble for them." Thick smoke covered his face. "To be specific, assassinate the devil's guards while he is sleeping, wait for the devil to go out to create a surprise for him, or simply pretend to be a cook, add good ingredients to his three meals and refreshments, and steal them when their stomach is confused and they are in a hurry. Toilet paper. Too bad we can't get any of the deadly toxins here...I guess your drow friends must have some."
"He is far away in the Floating Cloud City, beyond reach." It is impossible to find anyone to help.
Edward didn't mention it again. "No matter what, I succeeded in making them so distressed that they had to act covertly."
You drained their power but were not satisfied. “What is the association going to do?”
"Get reinforcements. Look, we have been fighting against the association, but the main force of the Restoration Legion cannot stay in the city. They will pretend to be war mercenaries and plunder everywhere to keep the soldiers alive. I think they should still be on the border. , competing with the Yinsman people for the land at the source of the Jinque River."
Uriel interrupted him: "Yin Shiman?"
"Don't get me wrong, the Restoration Army doesn't dare to compete with the real kingdom yet. These bastards are hired to harass the border. The masterminds are probably Bures or brown people from the hills."
The apprentice has never been to the western part of the kingdom, but people say that it is the most fertile and fertile land in Yinsman. Everyone eats well and wears gold and silver to bask in the sun. Even the sediment in the river is gold. Every frost moon, many southerners drag their families to the northwest. I wonder if these people will continue their journey as planned after hearing about the war between the devil's association.
"Is the main force of the association going to return?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not," the barber said. "For the people of Washimuth, harassment is more beneficial than frontal combat. Taking this city will depend on foreign aid." He looked through the smoke. "It's still a rare reinforcement. I dare say that it was the Oath Keepers Alliance's actions in Black City that inspired them."
Uriel's heart sank. "Gavash."
"That's it. They plan to attract the undead and make big news. It makes sense. These people finally remembered their identities and stopped pretending to be messengers of justice."
Uriel knew very well that the other party was reminding him. You are the demon hunter's apprentice and the messenger of the Sky Tower. If you don't want to see another city be as unlucky as your hometown, start doing something. The poor cripple in front of you is undoubtedly your good colleague and good partner. He has the same goal as you and will not cause trouble. Why not think about it?
"The alliance's plan is supported by resources, and it is impossible for the secret society to learn these." The apprentice pointed out.
"Similar means are enough. If the Oath Keepers Alliance wants to respectfully welcome back the Twinkle Queen, they must ensure that the passage is stable, and these grandsons are looking for some bones and rags from Gavash - dead people don't have those bad habits, Just come if you can. There is no need to pay too much cost to form an association..."
"...But other conditions are required?"
Edward couldn't help but smile. "It's too troublesome to explain. I'll take you to see it and you'll understand. I'm willing to serve you, Master Messenger."
Uriel really didn't want to comply with his wishes. "The Barber" is not the kind of person he would be happy to travel with. His words have hidden meanings and his actions are full of purpose. If you believe that he still thinks about duty or the safety of mortals now, then you have really missed him. He just told me.
If you want to reject this kind of person, you must not give him a chance from the beginning to the end, and the apprentice has already been dragged onto the warship by this guy in order to get rid of Della. The two had no choice but to stay together.
By the time they climbed out of the square tower, the battle was over. The manor was in ruins, and there were still lights in the windows, but they only reflected the outlines of the dead. Uriel also saw a fire in front of the gate, with black marks everywhere. "What do you want me to do?" he couldn't help asking.
"Oh, just a little thing. I wonder how long you are willing to stay?"
"Two days at most." The demon hunting movement is getting more and more intense. This kind of thing is by no means uncommon, and Uriel cannot take care of it every time. "I'll go to Yinsman in two days."
Edward turned around. "How long did you stay in the Black City before?"
"This is different. Patience and Tekapo are old friends of mine, and we fought side by side on the vampire's island."
"Where's Danlaw? Where's Antolos?"
"Captain Balthazar helped me a lot." The apprentice pointed out.
"It's no different. If I hadn't suggested that the hunter attack the Weaver family, she wouldn't be so vigilant. I know you need a sense of crisis at that time."
It's Della who needs it, Uriel thought. She would never give up control of her body without putting her in danger. The apprentice deliberately stopped her so that she could trick her into falling into the trap of the Society's guards. Anyway, no matter what I said at that time, Della would be suspicious. "To be honest, Edward, if I stay here too long, the Foreign Office will find me soon."
"Sounds like a good sign."
"It's most likely that my mentor is here in person. Do you think he will spend more time on the Restoration Legion that you have in mind? Absolutely not."
"How can a demon hunter let go of a demon?" the barber asked suspiciously. "That's his job."
"He has bigger responsibilities, such as going to Cloyin Tower to be the Minister of Foreign Affairs." This time, Uriel did not leave any chance for Edward. "Even if Gavash and Washimath merge into one, they are not within the scope of the tower's vassal state. As long as Order is no longer an alliance, people will not be able to enter the territory of other countries at will, especially Bryce! I can't let him do this Do."
Edward didn't like the news. "Look at my memory. You have so many experiences traveling in Knox. It seems that the White Envoy is the same as you. I almost forgot these things."
The apprentice was speechless for a moment.
"Hell, what do you want?" He compromised, "Just tell me, I'll do my best."
Then they came to Center Street.
Washmouth is history. The city is called the "Golden Ruins" and has retained many outdated buildings. The headquarters of the Inspiration Society is not an exception. In front of the fountain flower bed on Center Street, a rusty iron fence lies beside the muddy water, seemingly abandoned. Edward fiddled with the thing with his cane, making a harsh scraping sound.
Uriel reached out and lifted it, and the weight surprised him. "It seems like it was originally fixed here."
"Yes, this is good iron. Only people in Washmouth use it as wood. It is a gate bracket." The barber groped among the dirt and moss and found a gap. Uriel looked carefully and discovered that there was a movable baffle under the iron frame. "One of the great inventions of the Washemouth people - the sewer. It's a really good idea, I tell you."
The apprentice ripped open the baffle, and the fixed spikes flew everywhere. A stench came out. "So the locals never cleaned it again after the Washimuthians left?" He held his breath.
"It's too late for the locals to clean up the opponents in the city, let alone their feet." The barber made a gesture.
Uriel threw off the iron frame and climbed into the tunnel. The ground where I stayed was filled with smelly water, and the walls were cracked and covered in patches of tiny fluff. Edward stumbled on the last step of the ladder and was stopped by his apprentice as he reached for the wall.
"Don't touch anything." He ordered, "Maybe there is sight hidden in the darkness." In fact, of course there is no "maybe". No matter what the opponent relies on, he cannot escape the coverage of "spiritual vision". Maybe I should be a scout, Uriel thought.
"It's a shortcut," Edward said. "The others come in the other way."
"How many of you are there?"
"Forty people."
"Really?" There are more than this number of cavalry in the manor.
The barber looked at him with those white eyes. "I mean, people who will die for our actions from the other side. Forty. No more, no less."
Uriel did not ask about the number of enemies. The Demon Hunter had organized this counterattack, and no doubt someone had a well-planned plan, and he didn't need to know. The two made their way through the tunnel in silence, through the smelly water and darkness. These ten minutes felt like walking in the intestines of the city, waiting for them to be thoroughly digested. Weird feelings. He sometimes realizes his insignificance, but never thinks he is trash.
After bypassing a crooked water pipe, the "barber" stopped. "Almost there." Edward's voice became very soft, "I smell smoke." His pipe had been extinguished when he climbed down.
"There are traces on the wall and it's still very dry." The surveillance magic disappeared.
"Originally, I thought they were self-aware and would welcome corpses in the sewer. Now it seems that this place was once the devil's stronghold, and now it has been restored to use. It is not easy to make the sewer habitable. Do you think the devil will prepare firewood?"
Familiar jokes. Not once did Uriel laugh. He had to listen to companions or strangers share similar humor and pretend to participate. Fortunately, the barber Edward was a stranger to him, and they were too lazy to make fun of each other.
"I have to count on you next, my lord. There is only so much I can do."
"If I don't agree, who will you bring?" Uriel wanted to know.
"Ting Qin. It must be him."
"Your peers?"
"No. He's a businessman. He's got some business. Oh, and he's got a good crossbow."
Since this question came up for the first time, Uriel did not expect to receive such an answer. "This is not common."
"You must not be referring to the crossbow. Ting Qin is an old friend of mine, and he changed his career earlier than me. But, if you put down your sword, you will also encounter the devil, the world is like this. But I have to say, my lord, you are the better choice. Look, We will have a fierce battle soon."
"Very good. If you can spare his life, my trip will be of some value."
Edward looked back at him, seemingly surprised. "I'm honored that you think so."
The dry ground leads to a platform, away from the dirty, surging muddy water. Uriel saw the water barrier and the barbed wire, as well as a scattered pile of things: a flute, a damaged pot, and four rotting fish.
There was also fire, and the red light illuminated the figures on the stone wall. There was not much smoke, but the air became hazy.
Edward waded through the puddle first, his cane slipping on the stain. He stepped over the debris to the first man's head.
Gems knock bones. "dead."
This comment applies to everyone present. There were probably many more than forty, lying down or sitting down, on the ground or on their backs, calm or tense, all without exception. The blood was so coagulated that it was almost indistinguishable. There is a white hourglass kept in the corner, still slowly flowing fine sand.
"It took at least half an hour." Edward muttered. "The devil died completely and there was nothing left for me."
It's hard to echo his so-called regrets in the face of such a tragic situation. In fact, the apprentice felt an indescribable pity. "We're late," he said softly.
"No. The bastards failed. Gavash failed to open it. The undead have to go back and line up." Edward took out his pipe and lit it on the fire. A series of tiny crackles came from his palm. "It's no exaggeration to say it was a great success. Have you found anything for the ritual?"
Uriel picked up the hourglass. If you look closely, you will see that the sand it falls on is tiny skulls. No wonder the gravel is so shiny white. He stared at it for a long moment.
"A great success." Edward was still mumbling. "There's not a single one left, is there?" He shrugged. "It was a waste of time. I thought it was a shortcut. Of course, maybe they set off early and didn't notify me." There was a growl in his throat. "Help me, sir?"
They dragged the bodies together and prepared to light them. Edward turned the dead man's head with his cane to see their face clearly. "Gersham." He took a long drag on his pipe. "Chanal." Take another breath. "Tingqin. And Harao." Breathed. "Sfenton. Hey, this guy called me a lame." A long line of thick smoke puffed into the dead man's face, but the other party didn't object. He continued to tickle.
After lighting the fire, Uriel asked him: "Do you want to read a eulogy? I can also recite Gaia's Gift Book."
The "barber" was amused by him. "You are exaggerating, Uriel. We have only known each other for two weeks and have nothing to say to each other."
"Not at all?"
"Forget it. There's no point in talking."
The magical fire burned brightly, and the smoke was supplied entirely by the barber's pipe. The sewer is not a good place to burn a body, but there is no choice between the living and the dead. Uriel threw the hourglass into the fire, hoping that it would melt with the flesh. This is not a partial gang, he thought to himself. Neither Gavash nor Twinkle Pond could get ahead, and the two sides were even. Somehow this thought made him very uncomfortable.
But the hourglass failed to burn. After the flame is extinguished, it rolls down into ashes with high temperature.
Edward looked at it: "This thing is a 'rectangular ladder'."
"Ladder?"
"It's not a real passage. To be honest, this is a mysterious item, an alchemical creation that can open up a directional path. Merchants use it to smuggle spices and other goods, and usually lose most of it... The undead are not afraid of this. "
Uriel is no longer a stranger to mysterious objects. "The Washimuthians transformed it so that now it only leads to Garwash and is difficult to destroy."
Edward frowned. "I roughly understand this. There is an enchanter in the association who can use his demonic methods to change the effects of mysterious items. He has also made some color-changing ink, heat-emitting spoons and the like. I am just a counterfeit medicine dealer. . This 'Moment Ladder' can be regarded as his pinnacle work."
tomato
All Uriel's attempts only left a few cracks in the hourglass, and not even the sand could fall out. For a moment, he couldn't think of a solution other than throwing the thing into the shadows. Perhaps it has something to do with the mystery. As an unknown person, the producer is as active as an apprentice. His works require a higher level of mystery to decipher.
But obviously, keeping it is equivalent to making the Demon Hunter's Revenge useless, and it is equivalent to carrying a big trouble with him. Uriel could foresee that the Washimuthians would stop at nothing to recapture it, and he would never have peace unless he retreated to the tower. This won't work, I have enough targets on my head.
"Send it to me," Edward suggested.
"And let the association take it away from you?" And they probably won't collect the body for you. "I'd rather be thrown into a pit."
"Maybe someone will fish for it. Come on, I have a good idea that can solve the problem once and for all." Edward turned the hourglass.
"Don't be pretentious."
"This shows that I have a flexible mind. A mistake we often make can solve the problem perfectly. See."
Edward took a last deep breath from his pipe, as if sparks were being sucked into his lungs along with the smoke, and the sand was leaking out at this moment.
