Chapter 47

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Chapter 47: Hill

While Paladin and Tasha’s wolf-like bodies were entangled in combat, a dagger was inserted into the gap of a living door.

The ghost, thief, and hidden Craftsman Dwarf faced off, the experienced thief quickly seizing the initiative after a few probes. The presence of the ghost nullified his stealth skill, but he also acted as a distraction to the ghost. He had already realized that the ghost’s attacks couldn’t last long, once the faceless ghost began to attack, they were destined to determine the outcome in a short time – either the thief would die at the claws, or the ghost would dissipate, letting the thief destroy his opponent unimpeded.

Based on their last confrontation, he had a better chance of winning.

The ghost’s claws were like the sword of Damocles hanging over the thief’s head, threatening only in the moment of descent. Both sides knew that unless it was a critical moment, it would only serve as a distracting auxiliary weapon.

The thief reacted quickly, and the stillness lasted only for a little over a minute. He started moving again after a minute, keeping his eyes on the ghost and listening carefully behind him. His hand slowly reached towards the wall behind him, and his fingers lightly touched the surface. The ghost did not react strongly to this small movement, so the encouraged thief lowered his hand and pressed against the area he had anticipated.

His movements were light as a butterfly’s wings and fast as a dragonfly skimming water. Neither the strength nor the temperature that passed through his hand was enough to trigger any mechanism when it stopped. He had observed carefully beforehand that there were no visible holes in the wall, eliminating dozens of potential traps. The thief’s skills came from a legendary hero, and the teachings from ancient texts and mentors were enough to help him unlock an emperor’s tomb. His sharp fingers could discern the roughness and texture of objects just by touching them, like an insect feeling the direction of the airflow through its touch-sensitive hairs.

The thief’s dagger slipped into the barely noticeable seam with a click, touching the stone wall and revealing its true nature.

He smiled, his smile still stiff. People like him were good at blending in with crowds, showing emotions that fit the roles they were playing, like chameleons. When alone, they had already forgotten how to express their true emotions. Mr. Ordinary gave an awkward smile, genuinely amazed by the exquisite craftsmanship before him.

The seamlessly integrated stone slab separated from the wall, revealing a hidden door when triggered. It was so well disguised in form and color, like an autumn leaf butterfly on a withered tree, right before taking flight, you wouldn’t even realize where it was. Only a master craftsman like dwarf could create such a remarkable mechanism. The thief had heard of dwarf’s reputation for a long time and finally got to see it today.

He didn’t care if someone was human or not; he saw only different "professions." These two professions could be called natural enemies: one camouflaged in the environment while the other disguised the environment itself; one created dangers while the other dismantled traps. In the golden age of the past, the finest craftsmen and thieves competed marvelously, with better weapons and shields reaching the peak in their clashes, competing and progressing together. Legendary craftsmen considered the blood of great thieves as their badge of honor, and skilled thieves saw the treasures of master’s secret chambers as necessary for their fame.

Yet, dwarfs had disappeared without a trace, with most of their works lost, only remaining in the black market and certain deadly places. The unnamed thief had received the best training and mastered the best skills among them, but had no use in dismantling traps. It was like a hero who spent ten years honing his sword, only to find that all the dragons had already died; like a doctor who devoted his life to studying diseases, only to realize he had come to a place without any illnesses.

The thief felt quite lucky and saw no reason to give up moving forward. After all, the mission ahead was only to assist the Paladin and inflict as much damage as possible on the Hybrid.

Thinking that there might not be any treasures here, the thief decided that after the enjoyable decryption challenge, he would consider the head of the trap maker as the reward for this trip.

The secret door could be triggered with a dagger, but the thief knew it wouldn’t be enough to open it. He reached into his pocket where he kept the advance payment he received from the army in the north. It was one of the important reasons why the circus had taken on the job, and he thought it was worth spending it here.

The thief took out the flat metal object, the size of a mouse and flat-bodied. He held the head of the object and gave it a twist, causing the single eye on its flat head to light up with a red glow.

A chilling sound emanated from within.

With an opaque shell, you couldn’t see what was happening inside, only hear the noises of movement, like many tiny feet shuffling around in the darkness, possibly covered in dense fur. And then you saw it.

Under the object’s head, in the middle of its disc-shaped body, a ring of openings appeared with eight legs emerging from them. The sharp metallic feet glided through the air in unison, like a lazy stretch after being curled up for a long time. The creature stood on the thief’s hands, supporting its body, head twisting 180 degrees, and leaping towards the secret door.

The ghost rushed towards the metal object but the thief stood still, his indifferent attitude causing Tasha to hesitate in her decision to sacrifice herself. The mechanical patterns on the metal shell resembled those of a Red Setter dog, and moving it required a skill comparable to a professional’s. The dungeon’s power only managed to shift it slightly off course. What was this creature with a mechanical style? Was it worth wasting the ghost here?

In that moment of hesitation, the eight elongated legs of the creature clung tightly to the outline of the secret door, then retracted.

"Tick-tock."

After a slight start-up sound, a wave of silent noise surged forth.

Behind the door, the Craftsman Dwarf were holding their heads, staring at the enlarged metal feet in the cat’s eyes, feeling confused and dizzy. They couldn’t hear any sound at all, as the sound waves coming from the octagonal plate couldn’t be detected by ordinary people and Craftsman Dwarfs, it was more like ultrasonic waves. The hinged door twisted in the vibration, the sturdy main body remained intact, but the weaker connecting parts were falling apart under this strange attack.

The hinged door fell heavily, the thief kicked it to the side, and the small round door rolled open.

Behind it was an empty cave.

The Craftsman Dwarf could make a multiple refracted device similar to a periscope, hiding an intermediate layer between the outside and what the cat’s eye saw. The thief looked at the abandoned cave that failed to mimic the architectural planning, without showing a disappointed expression.

The octagonal plate had naturally detached, its headlight went out, the eight legs returned to their original positions, turning back into an ordinary ugly plate. The thief picked it up and kept it in his arms. He took out two long rods from his boots, assembled them, tightened them, turning them into a suitable exploring cane. He began tapping the four sides of the cave with the cane.

The thief started to smile, the clever thief knew that the "abandoned cave" was not a dead end, on the contrary, it was the enemy’s dead end.

Among the tapping sounds, there were very subtle differences, these indistinguishable distinctions would tip off the top-notch professionals. The thief’s long rod, specifically used to detect traps, broke a crossfire of crossbows, carefully picked apart the spear trap on the ground, and eventually found what he was looking for in the right place. To camouflage as a natural cave, hinged doors should not be regularly placed, just find the hidden yet weak secret door…

He suddenly rolled on the ground and left at the fastest speed. Nothing happened behind him, but that didn’t mean he could let his guard down. The ghost that had been watching him all along was nowhere to be seen now, it had disappeared into the air at some point, could appear from any corner.

The thief’s response to this was that the moment he stood still, he entered stealth mode.

His presence decreased to the minimum when his skills were activated. The dungeon was a very good hiding place, especially in this space that looked like it was abandoned, where the dim light outside couldn’t shine in. The thief’s body blended into the vast shadows, moving slower than usual, but his steps remained silent.

He kept shifting position without stopping for a moment. A beginner thief would quickly find a place to hide after sneaking in, while an experienced one would choose to keep moving. Combining hiding and mobility could make him extremely dangerous. All his senses were heightened to the maximum, adapting his dark eyes to scan everything ahead, his ears not missing any faint sounds, and even his skin, every nerve was activated, able to sense the slightest breeze indicating gaps. His body tensed, it was now!

The long pole was thrown in another direction, the sound of it hitting the rock wall was undoubtedly a loud noise in this silent space. At the same moment, the thief lunged forward with a dagger. The sharp blade pierced the rock wall, stirring in a certain direction, and with a clink, it dislodged the latch of the hidden door.

Suddenly, a ghost appeared and started circling around him, which was not unexpected. As the Paladin had warned earlier, the ghosts in the dungeon showed their ability to see through stealth when they appeared, but by sticking to the thief’s appearance, the latter discovered something: not all residents of the dungeon were immune to stealth. The ghost would sacrifice its own stealth abilities to mark the thief. Trading its stealth for revealing the hidden enemy, it was a fair exchange.

The hidden door fell down, and the thief caught it, holding it in front of him. The hidden door was quite heavy and thick enough to be used as a shield against attacks from inside the room. He squinted and glanced inside, closing one eye to avoid being affected by the potential bright light indoors. In that glance, the thief saw a crowd of people and their weapons, ah, this was the usual way of welcome, whether it was crossbows or other weapons, they couldn’t penetrate the hidden door they had created.

Wait?!

The thief’s eyes widened suddenly, looking in horror at a group of little dwarves inside the door, surrounding something terrifying.

The silver giant had a sturdy body and a long pole in front of it, completely filling up half of the space behind the door. It was obvious, a thief who had always studied such things could not be unaware of the famous "Clean Edge," with its bizarre appearance easily connecting to the information he had gathered, not to mention the thief had cooperated with the military several times before. In that moment, the rumors he had previously dismissed rushed into his mind. The thief remembered, they had said: the intact "Clean Edge" cannon had fallen into the hands of the Hybrids.

He had always scoffed at this news. The more he knew about magical weapons, the less he believed that weapons of the caliber of "Clean Edge" could fall intact into enemy hands. Unless destroyed or out of energy, they couldn’t be captured on the battlefield. And once they were out of power, how could those who captured them repair and recharge them?

But here is a dwarf.

He saw a white light shining from deep inside the cannon.

No time to think. The thief knew very well that a human body could not survive a direct hit from the cannon. He didn’t have time to think about whether the group of people could fix the Magic Cannon, or why the repaired Magic Cannon wasn’t moved to the battlefield. All his energy was focused on charging forward. Quickly! Faster! He pushed some of his focus towards the lingering ghosts, paying less attention to the weak-looking dwarfs up ahead. If he could get close, one slash would take care of them…

The thief fell.

Agonizing pain spread from his feet. Just before getting out of range, iron clamps shot out from the ground and caught his legs. The white light in the cannon became brighter. The thief took a desperate leap forward. Crack!

Several one-person-high iron spikes shot up from the ground, and he threw himself into the thorn trap.

He continued to stare at the cannon, seeing it as the biggest threat – otherwise, why would he have not disarmed these things that could have been easily handled earlier? In his last moments, the thief cursed and hoped the entire dungeon would be reduced to ashes in the fire. He finally saw the white light explode at the mouth of the cannon, and with a dull sound, the Magic Cannon shattered into many pieces.

The Magic Cannon retrieved by the dungeon was nothing but debris, not far from becoming a pile of scrap. The Craftsman Dwarf could only restore its appearance, creating a paper tiger. Tasha had intended to use it to scare people on the battlefield, but she had never found the right moment and used it here. It was indeed too fragile – as soon as the flash device placed inside the cannon was activated, the entire cannon body disintegrated.

Threatened by the imminent firing of the Magic Cannon and driven by ghosts, the desperate thief ran into the death trap set up by the Craftsman Dwarf at the headquarters.

The thief took his last breath and died with his eyes open.

The sky was getting dark on the ground at that moment.

The intense battle had been going on for a long time, with both sides fighting hard. Injured soldiers were being taken to the infirmary constantly, and the medicine supply had run out, relying on Mavis to make medicines on the spot. Samuel resumed his role as a doctor, singing softly the prayers of Saro as he bandaged the wounded, with some success. Pastor of Saro’s divine spell was specifically designed to counter evil entities, with an enhanced version healing wounds caused by non-human creatures or evil spells instantly under the divine spell, but wounds inflicted by human weapons did not respond well to it, being less effective than potions.

Pastor of Saro was not a member of Tasha’s army at all. At first, he left carrying a candlestick that could make him invisible, purely intending to flee to the north and help overthrow the rule of Hybrid in the southeast, to save the people – he was the type of person who remained determined without succumbing to the military atmosphere. As he stepped out, he saw a savior from the north setting fires everywhere to stop the imminent danger of almost being killed; he tried to make his way north through the battlefield, which proved impossible. Samuel had never seen so much blood, so many struggling wounded and dead bodies.

Saro’s Saint Child was scared but couldn’t leave the suffering people in front of him, like a terrified rescue dog unable to defy its instincts. He wandered around in a panic for a while, finally meeting a logistics soldier secretly transporting wounded soldiers underground. He followed them.

Samuel had sneaked down with the Faint Starlight candlestick several times already, using the Divine Artifact to protect himself, secretly bringing down several wounded soldiers for treatment. He was out of breath, lacking the energy to continue like this, only able to help as a doctor downstairs. He bandaged the blood-soaked wounds and assisted Mavis. Samuel was unwilling to join forces with Hybrid, but here, he was one of the few trained in professional medical care, with even children helping out now. He moved among more and more injured soldiers, feeling like he was in a helpless battle, exhausted but unable to stop, like racing against death.

"Doctor…" the person on the sickbed moaned in pain, "My leg, where is my leg?"

This was a human soldier who had invited Samuel for a drink before. Now, having just come out of shock, his leg had been amputated, his eyes covered in bandages seeping blood. His condition was very severe, and he could die at any moment. Grabbing onto Samuel’s sleeve, he trembled, unable to form a response.

"I’m so thirsty…" the wounded soldier said again.

"I’ll get you some water!" said Samuel quickly as he pushed the injured person’s hand away and rushed to the back. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. He saw another special object he brought with him, the Cup of Flowing Moon, shining dimly.

Pastor of Saro remembered the legend of the Holy Grail. The stories he heard in his childhood were all jumbled up in his mind. Isn’t it? It’s the cup of the Moon Goddess, right? He struggled to recall the legend of the water of the Holy Grail, his heart pounding in his chest. Yes, that’s right, it’s the cup of the Moon Goddess! The mercy of the Moon Goddess would turn the water in the cup into a healing elixir, able to cure any kind of injury.

Samuel grabbed the Cup of Flowing Moon like a lifesaver. He limped over to fill the Holy Grail with water and then ran back to the bedside of the injured person. "Here’s the water!" he said with uncontrollable joy, "Drink it, and you’ll be fine!"

Saro’s Saint Child cradled the soldier’s bloodstained head and fed him the water from the Holy Grail. If you removed the chaotic background, cleaned off the dirt covering the Saint Child’s body, and erased the fear and unease from his eyes, it would probably be a nice religious painting. The liquid from the cup flowed into the soldier’s mouth and down his throat.

"How is it?" Samuel asked hopefully.

Before hearing the soldier’s answer, he first heard a faint cracking sound.

The Pastor of Saro looked down in horror as a crack appeared on the Holy Grail, spreading at a terrifying speed. He futilely tried to cover it with his hand, but it was no use. Water overflowed through the crack, drenching his hands. As the first drop fell from Samuel’s hand to the ground, the Cup of Flowing Moon shattered.

Samuel’s mind went blank. He knelt down to pick up the fragments of the Moon Goddess Divine Artifact, but they crumbled further at his touch, leaving him with cuts on his hands. The pain stirred distant memories, and he vaguely remembered that the Holy Grail would heal "pious people."

"If an impious villain drinks it," the nanny warned, "the healing elixir will turn into deadly poison!"

There were no Saro followers here except him.

Samuel jumped up and tried twice to make a sound. "Are you okay?" he shakily said, "Hello?"

The soldier didn’t reply.

Someone came to check on him, shook their head, signaled others to move him, so new wounded could lie down. Samuel stood still, feeling cold all over. Mavis, entering the ward, saw his face, dragged him out all the way to a quiet pharmacy.

She didn’t pay much attention to him, just handed him a hot drink as the pharmacist was too busy. Samuel numbly held the cup of hot drink, thinking of the shattered Cup of Flowing Moon and the person who died so badly. "I’m not a bad person," Samuel thought.

He thought of the busy ward now, he needed to hurry back to help, self-punishment could come later. He thought of the battlefield, how many wounded and dead were left behind? Then he thought of the other side, the north probably had just as many wounded and dead, how many more people died every moment? Double the casualties, double the pain, double the bloodshed. Thinking of this, Saro’s Saint Child collapsed.

"Why?" he cried out, burying his face in his blood-stained hands, "They were all… They were all people…"

The quarter-elf sighed and patted his head.

The sky was darkening.

Marion dropped another body from her mouth, jumped out of the crowd, and took deep breaths. There was no clean spot left on her white wolf body, as others’ and her own blood dyed her fur into shades of reddish-brown. Marion looked up at the sky, it was getting dark. The sun hadn’t set, it was just clouds.

Clouds were flowing in from all directions.

The battlefield was no longer as noisy as before, the warriors’ throats were hoarse, and even the sounds of weapons clashing were not as clear and powerful as before. The war had reached a stalemate, but no one wanted to retreat. They were waiting for the morale to collapse in the north, while the north was waiting for them to run out of energy. Everyone gritted their teeth, while keeping a close eye on the other side, knowing that the side that retreated first would be bitten.

Could it be singing coming from afar…?

Marion’s ears twitched and perked up, she really did catch the sound of singing in the wind. She couldn’t make out the lyrics, but she could tell it was a group of people singing. Who could it be? Who still had the energy to sing at this moment?

The people below the ground didn’t know, the people on the battlefield didn’t know, perhaps, except for those involved, only Tasha saw what was happening.

A group of people was coming from the north.

The battlefield was in front of the guard post, as the situation became chaotic, the blockade was no longer effective. These group of people dressed as farmers took advantage of the chaos, sneaking in, peeking around, running lightly. The little imp at the front even held a pot of plants, no one knew what they were up to. The two fighting sides were too busy to pay attention to them. Tasha couldn’t spare any attention to them either. Meanwhile, at a distant part of the battlefield, Oak Elder suddenly widened his eyes.

His branches extended, pointing to the sky, his leaves expanded. He puffed out his cheeks, took a deep breath, and blew—

The leaves on the oak tree fluttered in the air, like when Oak Elder used leaves to attack the pursuers before, but this time the soft leaves didn’t cause any harm. The leaves just kept floating in the sky, drifting over the battlefield towards the group of farmers. They caught the leaves, looked at the plain oak leaves, suddenly started crying and laughing, jumping and shouting. Then they seemed to agree on something and ran together to a nearby hill on the battlefield where no one was.

As they ran, they grabbed each other, men, women, old people, and children all held hands, with leaves sticking on their closed palms. When they reached the destination, everyone held hands and formed a big circle.

They slowly turned in circles, dancing with strange steps, and singing at the same time.

The natural energy was swirling, Tasha could feel something subtle in the air, flowing between Oak Elder, the group of visitors, and the withered area. The sky was getting darker, the wind stronger. Clouds were being pushed towards this place by the wind, gathering into rolling dark clouds.

It started to rain.

The torrential rain beat down on the ground like a whip, the sky dark as ink, you could barely tell the direction and forget about finding enemies to fight. The battle group lasted less than half a minute, when the fierce wind swept through the battlefield, no one could continue fighting. Signal flares were lit at the northern camp to indicate the direction, dungeon lit up unquenchable blue lights, and the warriors who had been deadlocked for some time scattered in all directions.

The flames all around Red Gum County were extinguished, and the wrongdoers were left bewildered by the downpour. The battle of the gnomes in the dungeon had ended, after tying up the riders and singers, Tasha freed her hands to deal with those people.

The body of the wolf chief had completely collapsed, her body and the paladin’s body could be dealt with later. After dealing with the thieves, the ghosts in that area could be used for something else. The group of people who summoned the storm held hands and moved towards the oak tree, before the ghosts could inform them, someone slipped in the storm and fell into the landslide leading to the dungeon, causing a bunch of people to fall in like dumplings.

"They are here," Oak Elder said wearily but contentedly, "Thank you."

Druid danced on the hill, the first wild grass of spring breaking through the rain-soaked soil.