Azure Scepter

Page 95

In a daze, Trier found himself in an empty wooden cabin, the air filled with the warm aroma of burning pine resin.

The dappled winter sunlight seeped through the broken wooden windows, and a halberd sat beside an old wooden table, its tip dull and lifeless, as if it hadn't been maintained for a long time.

“This is the distant past,” the group murmured. “According to the timeline of the Prime Material Plane, this place is at least a thousand years old—wow, it seems that Lady Bloodthorn’s vessel is actually an ancient being.”

Trier nodded slightly.

He took out a mirror from his pocket. The mirror was slightly reddish, but there were no other unusual phenomena.

"This is the boundary between the dreams of the living and the dead, a shallow layer of the collective dream," he thought.

"Bang!" Suddenly, the wooden door was kicked open violently.

A female half-elf with short red hair rushed in. She walked quickly to the center of the room and then suddenly stopped.

She looked around, her gaze finally settling on the halberd beside the table, and then let out a long sigh of relief.

Trier frowned.

This woman looks very familiar: red hair, purple eyes, a beauty mark at the corner of her mouth...

Is it Lady Bloodthorn?!

The next moment, a man dressed as a farmer, carrying a baby, quickly followed.

The woman, who looked very much like Lady Bloodthorn, picked up her halberd, turned to the man, and said coldly, "Take Livitt with you."

"And what about you?" the man asked blankly.

"Me?" The woman laughed self-deprecatingly. "Forget about me. Now, get out."

"We can face the enemy together. You haven't taken any risks in too long, although I'm not good at fighting..."

"Stop dawdling! Get out of here!" The woman's emotions suddenly turned extremely violent. Her eyes widened, bloodshot. "You don't understand! Whether she wins or I win, I won't live. My mother will be resurrected from the victor!"

“I’ve never met your family.” The man’s voice was calm as he looked earnestly at the emotionally distraught woman. “Believe me, we can face this together. Believe me.”

The woman sneered, "My mother was a complete monster, a succubus!"

After a moment, she smiled bitterly again: "No, succubus is not accurate. To be precise, she is a demon lord. She foresaw her own death in the distant past, and through some evil ritual, she transformed her offspring, the result of her pleasures in the mortal world, into vessels for her resurrection. When the last offspring dies, she will return from the dead."

"That's like a myth." The man said, undeniably. "But then again, the entire country was plunged into the Dream Realm more than a decade ago, and we weathered that crisis. This so-called Demon Lord's mother-in-law is nothing compared to her. Could she possibly be more dangerous than those strange creatures from the Dream Realm?"

"Inappropriate humor," the woman said coldly, but the tension on her face did indeed dissipate considerably because of the man's offbeat interruption.

“We can seek help from the Queen. Her Majesty Lorraine is the most powerful paladin in the world; she will never stand idly by while her people are harmed by demons,” the man proposed a solution. “The town sheriff said that her circuit court is currently in Wilt City. We can set off immediately and get there tonight!”

The woman hesitated, seemingly realizing that this was a very feasible solution.

But the woman's expression suddenly changed—dull footsteps came from outside the door.

"It's too late," she said through gritted teeth. "By the radiance above, please bless my soul."

Faced with a desperate situation, the woman suddenly calmed down.

“Listen, there’s a petrification potion on the bedside table in our bedroom. I got it after killing a hag during one of my adventures. After you get the potion, you and Livitt both need to take a sip.”

"You keep such a dangerous thing in your house?!" The man was dumbfounded.

The woman's face was filled with anger. She slapped her husband hard, but her voice was choked with sobs: "You talk too much nonsense. Go now, please!"

The man hurriedly left with the baby in his arms, and a few breaths later, a polite knock sounded on the wooden door.

"Boom boom boom-"

"Have you finished saying your final goodbyes to your family, sisters?"

A red lizard head poked out from the crack in the door. Her vertical pupils suddenly contracted, and a scarlet tongue emerged from her mouth.

—This is a dragon descendant.

“You’ve gone completely mad. We are the last two blood descendants of our mother. No matter who wins or loses, Lady Bloodthorn will be resurrected in the victor’s body. Please stop being so delusional.” The woman held a halberd and pleaded in a low voice, “We can go to Queen Losevie for help. We don’t have to kill each other.”

The Dragonborn pushed open the door, revealing a crippled left leg.

"That's just because your will is weak. You're afraid of your mother and worried that you can't overcome her will," the dragonborn sneered. "But for the strong, that's just a small trial—I'm a mind mage, and my mother's will after her death is nothing to me. Her legacy is enough for me to ascend to legend. Oh, I see. You haven't taken any risks for too long and you're afraid of fighting now, aren't you?"

"Dragonborn seeking their own demise, those bastards always overestimate themselves. Compared to you and me, the will of mortals is as weak as sand," the crowd mocked. "Trill, who do you think will win?"

"Who do you think Lady Bloodthorn looks like now?" Trier countered. "She clearly doesn't look like a lizard, does she?"

The next moment, a flash of cold metal, and the Dragonborn's mocking head fell to the ground, thick blood slowly spreading across the floor.

"Clap."

Chapter 190 Location

The dragonborn's head rolled to the woman's boots, and the halberd in her hand fell to the ground with a thud. Her face was deathly pale as she looked in despair at her husband, who suddenly appeared behind the dragonborn's headless corpse.

The husband's face was covered in blood, and he held a machete stained with scales and blood in his hand.

Trier frowned slightly; the machete gleamed with magical light—it was a magical weapon.

“There’s also a bottle of invisibility potion on the bedside table.” The man raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, Levitt has already drunk the petrification potion, but I can’t abandon you and run away, so I came back. You see, I told you, we can face this together—now let’s hurry to Wilt.”

The woman's lips moved, and blood dripped from the tips of her hair, tracing lines down her cheeks and leaving strange streaks.

A beam of light, like a blood-red ghost, shot out from the dragon's corpse and then flowed into the woman's body.

The woman clutched her heart in anguish, half-kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily.

An indescribable, terrifying aura slowly rose from her body.

“You…you should have subdued her,” she whispered. “Now it’s truly all over.”

"I just want to protect you."

The woman looked up, her eyes filled with sorrow: "I don't blame you. Go quickly, it's really too late this time."

“You always make small things seem too difficult. There’s always time—let’s get going now.” The man grabbed the woman’s hand. “Don’t waste time.”

Tears mixed with blood streamed down the woman's face, then dripped onto their tightly clasped hands.

“I’m sorry, actually, I lied to you.” The man smiled. “There’s no invisibility potion in the bedside table at all—before coming here to be a farmer, I worked as a battle mage for a long time in the royal court of Gedlan. I’ve read books about demon lords; they’re not that scary. Trust me, don’t give up.”

The woman looked bewildered, but the corners of her mouth gradually turned up.

A moment later, she nestled gently into the man's arms.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

"Can you do me another favor?" she whispered in the man's ear.

"of course."

The next moment, something unexpected happened.

The woman pierced the man's chest with a single blow, her slender fingers gently pinching his still-beating heart.

"I'm a little hungry, thank you for your hard work."

She gently scratched the artery on her heart with her fingertips, as if she were caressing her lover's face.

The next moment, she pulled the heart out of the man's chest.

Blood splattered, instantly staining the cozy room with a thick layer of crimson.

The light in the battle mage's eyes froze. He collapsed into a pool of blood, reaching out a hand weakly as if trying to grasp something. But all his syllables turned into desperate hissing sounds from his lungs, dissipating along with the bubbling blood.

The newly resurrected demon laughed maniacally. She suddenly opened her mouth and swallowed the heart whole. The sunlight outside the window vanished instantly, and layers of heavy, leaden clouds suddenly appeared. The plants outside the door withered completely within a few breaths.

Lady Bloodthorn licked her blood-soaked lips, chuckled, and sat down on the man's corpse.

“It’s delicious. I’m back to life, Rosevie. I’m back.”

Suddenly, she slowly turned her head and looked at Trier.

Ms. Xuejing, her face covered in blood, immediately looked astonished.

"It's you!?"

"Hello," Trier greeted him kindly.

Lady Bloodthorn's face darkened: "Heh, so that's how it is. The dream monster Orianna encountered was you."

She paused for a moment, then seemed to have figured something out, and suddenly smiled broadly.

“Listen, old lich, we have no real conflict. I just want revenge. I don’t care about Lorthevi’s divinity or divine nature at all—we have a basis for cooperation.”

Before Trier could answer, she waved her hand impatiently: "Don't rush to refuse. You can't trust the devil's promise, but you can pray to me anytime you come to your senses."

The next instant, the screen abruptly shattered.

In the blink of an eye, the scene changed again.

"This was more than a decade ago," the others reminded them.

Trier nodded: "Indeed, judging from the species of fir trees, this should be the outskirts of Wiltshire."

Here is a dense forest, and in the soft soil, countless vines climb all over a stone statue of a baby.

The stone statue has been weathered by time and is now somewhat damaged.

"Whoosh!" Suddenly, the branches were stirred, and a handsome man in a black robe hurried past. He held a holy emblem in his right hand and dragged a heavy scepter in his left.

“It’s Bishop Vercingetorius.” Trier raised an eyebrow.

He slowly looked around and then saw the stone statue of the baby.

"Great, great!" Vercingtorli exclaimed with delight. "Ah, we've found the materials to extend Trier's lifespan magic."

He raised his scepter, gently parted the vines on the statue, and then released a "dispetrification" spell onto the thousand-year-old statue.

A green light flickered, and cracks appeared on the infant statue. The next moment, he began to cry again, his heart-wrenching cries echoing through the dense forest.

The bishop sheathed his weapon and gently picked up the baby, as if he were holding some kind of precious treasure.

"Don't cry, my dear child. You will grow up strong and healthy, won't you?"

He said in a low voice.

The baby cried even harder.

As the scene shifted like a slideshow, Trier had a premonition that this scene was very close to the timeline of the Prime Material Plane.

"It happened yesterday," the group said dutifully.

This is a dilapidated bedroom. A little girl with black pigtails is leaning against the window, gazing blankly outside.

Trier narrowed his eyes slightly, then a smile appeared on his face.

We finally found the little girl's location.

Chapter 191 Prophecy Excerpt

We've finally found the little girl's location!

Trier walked quickly to the window and looked down at the street.

A faint violin melody drifted out of the window, and a woman's ethereal voice softly sang a frivolous and lewd tune.

The streets were bustling with people, the pungent smell of cheap perfume mixed with the damp, stuffy smell of sweat.

Trier's eyes swept quickly across the street, and he soon found the focus of his attention.

The conservatively dressed, youthful-looking madam waved a colorful fan made of peacock feathers with displeasure, her tone harsh as she glared at a blond paladin: "Rude! Utterly rude!"

“You must be hiding a succubus here! Look at this horrific series of murders!” the blond paladin exclaimed excitedly.

The madam waved her fan lightly and chuckled, "Clever paladin, according to you, there's no one alive here."

Trier narrowed his eyes slightly; the conversation seemed somewhat familiar.

His thoughts shifted slightly, and he suddenly realized that he had indeed overheard this conversation—Fodia had passed through this place yesterday when she was trying to shake off her pursuers.

“This is the bishop’s red-brick wine brothel,” Trier thought to himself, now certain of the location.

But the next moment, he frowned.

The fire that broke out in the lower town this morning started here. Edith said the fire was caused by a brothel owner taking in too many refugees, leading to overcrowding, but now it seems that this is not the case.

He turned to look at Lady Bloodthorn's container.

The little girl looked nervous, and a bent wire had appeared in her hand without her noticing. She bent down and used the wire to pry open the shackles on her feet, while occasionally glancing down at the street below.

—It seems that the madam's decision to take in refugees was not out of noble kindness.

"Please, please, drive quickly," she whispered. "Hurry up."