The Necromancer's Servant

It was a beautiful weather the next day. From the morning onwards, the sun was shining brightly, reflecting the high spirits of the villagers. Today, they could return home and continue their previous lives with peace of mind.

Last night, they used all their savings to hold a celebration. Brother Bombo even took out a barrel of wine he had secretly saved for a long time. Everyone gathered around the bonfire, singing and dancing. Although Asa did not join them, he could still feel that simple, pure joy and attachment to his homeland.

Early in the morning, the villagers helped the elderly and carried the young, bringing everything they could to walk towards the patch of grass to the east, preparing to receive the grace of amnesty and tax exemption. The Envoy had said that he needed to see everyone in person to grant amnesty, so everyone had to go.

Throughout the journey, Rodhart continuously talked about how noble and knowledgeable the Envoy was. It was said that he was a well-known noble scholar in the capital, conducting academic research in the seminary and had written several books on faith and theology. This completely left Rodhart in awe. Because of his mediation, such a great man had been rescued from his predicament, and he also helped resolve the villagers' troubles. This extraordinary achievement kept his excitement alive from yesterday until today.

After walking through the woods for a long time, they finally emerged from the trees just before noon and arrived at the patch of grass where the Envoy had instructed them to wait.

As Asa stepped onto the grass, he immediately spotted the "Lost Forest" that the old man had mentioned. Just from the first glance, he was certain that this was the place he had been looking for.

It indeed appeared to be a rather unusual forest. The trees were tall and seemed to have an ancient grandeur, as if the surrounding trees were automatically retreating to create a space in the middle. The entire forest exuded a strange, heavy atmosphere that was awe-inspiring and enigmatic.

As he approached, this feeling became more pronounced and increasingly peculiar. Asa could even feel the entire forest rejecting him. There was no malice, but there was a heavy and dignified presence.

Getting even closer, Asa discovered that it was an incredibly vast and majestic forest. Each tree was at least large enough that several people could barely wrap their arms around it. The twisted, gigantic trunks and branches displayed endless ancient splendor. A thin mist floated through the air, and beams of sunlight streaming through the leaves formed slanted columns cutting through the gauzy fog. Not a single bird call or animal sound could be heard in the forest.

"Don't come near here." Asa felt as if the entire forest was silently shouting. As he drew so close, he could almost feel this intimidation on his skin. He recalled Hunter Levin's confusing metaphor at the time, which now seemed incredibly fitting. It was indeed like an ancient giant, immense and majestic, looking down upon him, warning him not to approach. Even thinking about such tremendous majesty felt like a burden.

"Is this the place? The Whispering Forest?" Asa almost spoke to himself.

"Yes, this is the Whispering Forest," a voice that sounded as if many people were simultaneously whispering in desperation responded.

Turning around, Asa saw that the villagers had already stopped in their tracks, standing in a group far away in the center of the grass, none of them looking in this direction. The strange voice came from someone not far from him.

It was a person dressed in a red robe, also standing not far away, facing the mysterious forest. The red robe resembled the attire Asa wore while disguising himself as a hunchbacked cripple in the capital, trying to cover every part of his body. However, the difference was that this person's face was exposed.

It appeared to be just an ordinary face one might see on the streets, with a lively expression and shiny, moving eyes. But Asa felt that this face was entirely inconsistent with the strange aura emanating from him. It was as if the face was stuffed with thousands of rotting, dead snakes, emitting a dangerous stench of decay.

"Do you want to go in?" the man in the red robe asked in his strange voice.

"Yes," Asa replied cautiously.

The man in the red robe seemed indifferent to his answer and continued to gaze into the depths of the forest, saying, "Don't worry, I will take you in shortly." His voice was not loud, but it sounded as if he had to exert great effort to push it out of his throat, hoarse as if a multitude of people were wailing simultaneously.

Asa suddenly felt a chill run through his body.

The villagers did not notice Asa's situation at all. They instinctively avoided looking toward the forest; even if someone thought to glance over, the unperceptible yet undeniable sense of rejection immediately turned them away, leaving them disinterested in discussing it.

Moreover, they were now focused on their own matters. A rumble of hooves grew closer as dozens of cavalrymen emerged from the forest. "The Envoy is coming," Rodhart recognized one of them as the Envoy.

"Why are there so many people?" Hunter Levin looked at the fully armored cavalrymen, fear creeping into his heart. "Could it be…"

"It won't be. The Envoy has already said he would grant everyone amnesty. A person of such high status and knowledge wouldn't go back on his word. Since you startled him last time, he's naturally brought guards with him this time," Rodhart reassured everyone.

However, it was clear that the group of cavalrymen was not merely there as guards; they charged directly toward the villagers, spreading out and encircling two or three dozen of them in the middle. Then, the Envoy and a plump man who looked like an official rode up.

"Envoy, what is happening?" Rodhart asked.

"That knight, you may come forward," the Envoy nodded to him. Rodhart stepped forward. "Given your noble character and good education, I can completely overlook your association with these bandits."

Rodhart cautiously asked, "Then what about them…"

The Envoy calmly replied, "Naturally, they are to be executed." Upon hearing this, the villagers gasped in shock.

"But you promised to grant them amnesty!" Rodhart exclaimed hurriedly.

The Envoy elegantly raised a hand to his head and spoke in a tone filled with superiority, "This is wisdom; if I hadn't said that, would they have let me go? I was not making a sincere promise at the time, but merely exercising a clever strategy."

The plump man beside him sighed in admiration, "Your strategy is truly remarkable, my lord. If you were to lead in battle, you would surely be an invincible general. Your talents in both literature and martial arts make you a pillar of the nation."

The Envoy smiled and nodded, humbly saying, "I am just a scholar, not suited for killing and fighting. Speaking of pillars, Mr. Dorte, you can be counted as one as well. I have inspected many places, and found this place is one of the best. The construction of the chapel is proof of your piety to God."

"You saw yesterday that they all apologized to you and acknowledged their mistakes. Doesn't that show they are still good commoners?" Rodhart knelt down in plea, unable to accept the stark contrast between hope and reality as it spiraled downward.

"I certainly remember. As a reward for their apology, I will execute them simultaneously to spare them the pain of losing their loved ones. You must understand that when punishing heretical villages, it is customary to execute the children first, allowing those who disrespect the divine to feel the greatest pain in their hearts, to cleanse their vile souls."

"I've heard that this method was invented by you, my lord, is it not?" the plump man respectfully inquired.

A proud expression spread across the Envoy's face. "I thought of this while studying at the seminary. Let those heretics experience this painful baptism while still alive, so they can quickly atone for their sins in hell."

The plump man twisted his face into a flattering smile and exclaimed, "You are so kind and wise."

Rodhart's voice began to tremble. "But they are not heretics! Didn't I explain the real situation to you yesterday?"

The Envoy was losing patience. "They are not now, but what about in the future? They can kidnap a minister for money and food. That shows a complete disregard for the law. And I have already investigated," he pointed with judicial authority to the plump man beside him, "They have slandered this honest local official, Lord Dorte. Lord Dorte only collected a small tax from the people to build a chapel in the town. This is a noble deed for God! They not only refuse to pay this honorable tax, but they also slander such a devout Lord Dorte. That indicates they have completely lost the teachings of God and gratitude in their hearts. As a theological expert, I can discern that such souls are most easily tempted by the devil. Executing them before they become devil-worshipping heretics is the best approach for them."

He turned to ask the plump man Dorte, "But why do you insist on executing them here? Wouldn't burning them alive in the city be more effective as a deterrent?"

Dorte replied, "That's because a kind-hearted gentleman visited me about ten days ago. He expressed concern that our burial ground was insufficient, and it would be inappropriate for heretics to be buried alongside God's people. He suggested we bury them here, offering us one silver coin for each body. Therefore, I suggested executing this group of bandits here. Transporting so many bodies would require great effort."

The Envoy wore a worried expression. "Such a strange matter, are you sure he is not a heretic?"

The local official Dorte quickly shook his head, his chubby face jiggling. "No, he gave me the money to build our chapel. Anyone who spends money on such a meaningful cause must have great sentiments. Don't you agree?"

The Envoy nodded, then turned to the trembling villagers, speaking in a tone of condescension, "You see, your bodies will also contribute to the construction costs of the chapel in the town, which is your honor." He made a gesture resembling some kind of ritual toward the cavalrymen. "Alright, execute them."

Dozens of cavalrymen drew their weapons and charged at the villagers in the middle, most of whom were old, women, and children, as if slaughtering livestock. Cries and screams erupted along with blood from these unarmed bodies.

"Stop!" Rodhart jumped up from the ground. Instantly, three cavalrymen placed their swords against his neck, while another struck him hard on the head with the hilt of his sword, knocking him to the ground.

The Envoy looked on with regret and said, "It seems your loyalty to the law and faith in God do not match your feelings for these bandits. Despite your contributions, I must execute you as well to prevent you from tarnishing the noble title of knight."

Though he had been kidnapped the day before, he had used a little trick to easily capture this group of bandits. Listening to the screams of these heretics, the Envoy felt that Dorte's earlier words had merit; perhaps he really could become a general. Suddenly, he saw someone sprinting from the distant edge of the forest, and like a general, he waved his hand to a few nearby cavalrymen, saying, "There's still an enemy over there; who will go take his head?"