Chapter 132: Surviving the Night (3).
Nero's attention was immediately drawn to the Templar.
This was the first time he had ever seen one in the flesh.
The experience was both awe-inspiring and lackluster at the same time...
The Templar was large, standing at least a head taller than the tallest person's in the crowd.
The distinctive red iron of his armor seemed to draw all the gazes. Attached to his back was a large buster sword with glowing decorative runes. However, that was all the glamor there was.
The armor of the Templar was beaten, scratched and dented in many areas, with some parts even twisted beyond saving.
And yet, he stood with poise that radiated confidence and pride. Nero couldn't imagine what the man behind the suit of armor must have gone through to be able to stand so valiantly.
The armor was compact and unlike any armor set he had ever seen. Compared to the armor he wore as a town guard, that could very well have been picked out from a pile of scraps.
The crimson armor on the other hand, was like a single piece of armor moulded to fit into the frame of the man.
Nero was even suspicious that there was no man beneath the suit of armor. Maybe it was just a hunk of sentient metal.
The helmet was plain, save for two slits that radiated a darkness just like the surrounding night. When he gazed into them, he felt like he was staring at nothing.
Nero quickly scanned around with his eyes before he began to listen. Very quickly, he got an idea of what had gone on here.
Apparently, the person that had been struck down, which from what he could see, looked to be a fairly aged woman with dark hair and a worn body, suggesting she had been a regular person trying to make her way into Liedenstorm as well.
Now, she laid on the ground, a pool of blood gathering beneath her cold body.
The people around seemed relieved at her death, although they did show signs of discomfort and fear at how easily she had been cut down by the Templar.
Suddenly, the Templar spoke.
The voice that came from the suit of metal was jarringly cold and metallic,
"Move back."
Nero frowned, 'This... Is he even human?'
The crowd of people parted like a split sea. Without wasting a single movement, the Templar picked up the woman's corpse and slung it over his shoulder. Then he began marching forward.
The rest of the crowd was frozen in place.
While the Templars were worshipped as the guardian angels of the human race, it didn't change the fact that they were also seen as the enforcers of the Church's cruelty.
They had no qualms smiting an Abomination to death, just as they had no qualms bludgeoning, hacking and or beating one perceived as having gone against the Church.
In other words, most saw them as the dogs of the Church.
They were terrifying beings. Angels of salvation and of death.
Nero's eyes followed the Templar.
He watched as he continued cutting through the crowd until he reached an area on the open field that was a fair bit away from the more populous parts, separated from the rest of the place by two menacingly huge Templars wielding large halberds.
In this area, there were a collection of tents and even a few horses grazing on the verdant stubble. The tents were a dull darker color, and from them, Nero could see soft organs light filtered through the gaps and folds in the fabric.
Nero glanced around. Those around could only watch as he vanished away from sight.
Nero could help but be curious.
He was curious to see what the other party wanted with the struck down corpse of some old woman.
He walked away from the crowd towards a more secluded area. Then he closed his eyes.
A moment later, a slightly translucent yet black shawl appeared in his hands.
Nero was hesitant for a moment.
Doing this was rather risky.
When he thought about how intimidating the Templar from earlier had been, he wanted to do nothing more than discard his idea and walk away.
And yet, something told him that if he did this, he would regret it.
It was because of the revelation from the Wandering Spirit's Journal.
He needed information the most right now.
He huffed then steeled his nerves.
All he had to do was not get caught, right? How hard could it be?
Besides, with the temporary Relic, the Veil of Darkness, he was confident he could evade detection so long as he was extreme careful.
And when combined with his skill, Shadow Shift, getting sensitive information from even the Church suddenly didn't seem like a pipe dream.
Nero huffed deeply.
A deep sense of fear and excitement rushed over him.
Was he really going to do this?
If he was caught, the consequences would be disastrous.
And yet, he placed the shawl of shadows over his neck and shoulders.
Temporary Relics like the Veil of Darkness and the Waterskin of Purity were limited in their uses. And each one of them cost upwards of two requests from the Oracle.
If he wasted it, that was a considerably chunk of resources wasted.
Nero's form seemed to phase out of reality and yet, it didn't. At least no to an observer.
To an observer, he would have simply not been there in the first place, soon becoming nothing but a faint memory.
That was the power of the Veil of Darkness.
Nero grimaced as he took a step forward and vanished.
Very soon, he was right in front of the two Templars that stood guard.
He paused for a moment, wondering if they could see him or not.
Even after standing right under their noses for over a minute, neither of the two guards reacted at all.
Seeing this, Nero breathed a sigh of relief.
Then he slowly walked forward, taking care to create as little noise as he possibly could.
NOVEL NEXT