When the plot-skips players into the game world

Here, thick grey dust has accumulated into strips, like a computer case fan that hasn't been cleaned for years.

Then Zhu Tang made a sign, and a visible green breeze blew forth, sweeping the dust away.

As the wind infused the passage, a golden-red light gradually began to shine.

It was not fire, but a kind of red gemstone with a grey rim, resembling red-hot charcoal. Or rather, it was a kind of self-igniting coal that was highly resistant to burning.

Old Ibn nodded slightly toward Zhu Tang and walked inside.

"What happened afterward?"

Hayna, however, felt a gnawing curiosity; she was very eager to know the story that followed.

To become a ritualist or a cursing sorcerer... what happened then? Was the murderer found? Was revenge achieved?

"If one knows the effect of the Intestine-breaking Curse, one can easily guess... whose curse it was that made Ibn's father dare not seek vengeance."

Aiwass patted Hayna's shoulder and softly said: "It was the Benevolent Lords themselves.

"Clearly, the Benevolent Lords didn't execute him outright, which means they had no evidence at hand—this was likely an anonymous denunciation. The Benevolent Lords suspected him but didn't want to kill him directly, so they used a curse to torment him, intending to observe his reaction.

"If Ibn's father truly felt 'no regrets,' then his reaction would surely be like Ibn's as a child, believing that the assassin was indeed from the resistance's assassins. Then observing how many rebels he killed would reveal his true thoughts on the matter."

"...And if he remained kind-hearted despite the curse, then it would imply that there might be something wrong, right?"

After all, being an Avalonian, Hayna quickly guessed the Benevolent Lords' methods.

But she also immediately realized another issue: "But enduring the curse until death, doesn't that mean—"

It undoubtedly equated to acknowledging the Benevolent Lords' interrogation and attempting to turn this probing into "punishment."

—I've already died; let's end this matter here.

"Yes..."

Old Ibn slowly said: "Father was indeed a brave warrior, but he truly didn't understand politics. Or rather, he valued his own life too much."

"This is like a confession. How could the emperor choose not to pursue rebel intelligence just because you chose to kill yourself?"

Zhu Tang sighed: "Military men are like this... they think too simply. Those slaves... those well-trained slaves are probably secret agents."

"That's correct."

Ibn nodded: "When I learned the effect of the Intestine-breaking Curse, I immediately guessed the truth."

He was just a teenager then, yet understood this principle, while his father, having made it to the position of a guard leader, did not… it shows that reading really is useful.

"Mother probably also guessed the truth. So one day, without leaving a will, mother took some things and secretly fled. She never returned from that day on.

"Perhaps because mother abandoned us, the Benevolent Lords instead decided that my siblings and I were unrelated to the matter. Thus, they summoned the slaves back. By then, I had already been living in the Society, rarely returning home… or perhaps because I displayed extraordinary ritual talent, so the Benevolent Lords favored me greatly. They often sent people to award me publicly, gifting me expensive ritual materials…"

Old Ibn laughed self-deprecatingly: "This was clearly a means to isolate me from my friends. But I must admit, this technique was quite effective.

"At the time, I couldn't distinguish whether among those friends who came seeking me were secret agents of the Benevolent Lords or those seeking the Benevolent Lords' praise. Those classmates who sympathized with the slaves were almost entirely separated from me… every ritual group at the time respected me, revered me… but also stayed away from me, rejected me.

"Later…"

Old Ibn was momentarily disoriented: "I also joined the Sand Throat sect. That was truly difficult."

"Sand Throat..."

Zhu Tang murmured: "I've heard this name before… from my friend Parthia."

"After all, Sand Throat made a better name than the Red Hand Gang."

Old Ibn nodded: "The Sand Throat sect believes that if we wish to overthrow the Benevolent Lords' rule, we must train ourselves not to need water. The sect mixes finely ground cactus spines into honey to make a special drink. If one consumes this drink, scales like those of the Serpentfolk would grow inside the throat, effectively resisting thirst. But the price is a hoarse voice…

"They distribute this drink to the slaves, reducing their desire for water. The sect believes that only those who truly do not thirst for water can muster the resolve to assassinate the Benevolent Lords."

"...Is it only not thirsting?"

Prodeno, knowledgeable as he was, sensed something amiss: "But this seems... unable to address human dehydration issues. Without water, humans will die, but what it solves is merely not making people feel thirst."

"That's correct."

Old Ibn nodded, admitting: "The sect cannot make humans need no water nor provide it to them. They can only offer a way not to feel thirst… once one takes the Sand Throat drink, they won't feel thirst due to dehydration anymore. It's even possible they might die of thirst without realizing they were dehydrated.

"The Parthia resistance all had more or less problems… and this was the limit of what they could achieve."

"I suppose this drink…"

Aiwass spoke softly: "Is probably a one-time thing."

"…Yes."

Old Ibn fell silent for a moment, nodding: "After consuming the Sand Throat drink, one can't gauge their dehydration level and thus easily die. It contains ingredients like scorpion venom that excite the body and mask pain. Its significance lies in allowing one to endure pain temporarily… thereby possessing the will to assassinate others.

"The Sand Throat sect is actually just a faction encouraging slaves to assassinate free people and even the Benevolent Lords. They research other things too, primarily enhancing slave combat capability or improving their living experience. And without exception… they're all toxins that overdraft the human body.

"For example, a spell that transforms human lung lobes into sponge-like organs—thus allowing water vapor extraction from the air while preventing moisture loss through breathing. This is Sand Throat sect's most prideful technology and the reason the Benevolent Lords wanted it eradicated…"

Speaking, Old Ibn walked to the end of the hidden passage.

Unexpectedly, there was no treasury here.

Just a table, two chairs, a coat rack, and a wooden box. Faint light seeped from above, indicating the surface was not far away.

Rather than a stash, its main purpose seemed more for escape.

Old Ibn picked up a notebook from the table, flipping through its pages.

"This isn't a family heirloom since my ancestors weren't ritualists. My family has always been hunters, starting reading only from my generation."

Old Ibn slowly said: "This is Sand Throat sect's final remnant. Luckily… despite being reported, my friends are still willing to trust me. They preserved this treasure here with me."

"What is it?"

Aiwass inquired.

Then Old Ibn pulled out a card.

Upon seeing this, Aiwass suddenly froze.

Because it was an old hand-drawn card, resembling Tarot Cards.

Aiwass was very familiar with the image on the card—it was the Tarot Card of [The Sun].

But the face portion on the card was blank.

"This is a relic left by someone who once faced punishment in history."

Old Ibn handed the card to Prodeno, slowly saying: "'Shepherd's' relic."