Chapter 22

The temple guards immediately froze in their attempt to sneak away.

The necromancer struck the ground with his bone staff. With a whoosh, dozens of white bone pillars rose from the floor of the hall.

The fallen temple warriors, the priest Donald, the knight Roman, and a few warriors from Garet's squad were enclosed in six or seven different fences, separated from each other.

Garet's eyelid twitched. He had heard much about it, and this was his first encounter—this was the bone cage, wasn't it?

He carefully observed. The bones were sinister and pale, each over a meter long, some even exceeding one and a half meters. Garet's interest immediately waned: they weren't human bones, so there was nothing to see. As for what specific kind they were, he wasn't a forensic expert or a paleontologist...

Instead of spending time on research, he might as well plead for his squad and ask the necromancer to release them first.

"Uh..."

Garet tried to speak. The necromancer immediately cut him off: "Don't worry, I won't kill them. I just don't want them to smash things around. I'll release them early tomorrow morning."

As he spoke, he waved his hand and faced the hall, muttering incantations. In the mysterious and unfathomable chanting, Garet seemed to see black mist gathering inward. In a moment, the stone gargoyles, which had been chopped into pieces, restored themselves and began patrolling.

This... with the gargoyles around, it might be safer for everyone to stay in the cages... and there were benefits to sleeping down here: no wind, no rain, and plenty of space...

Considering that these people had just smashed the hall, Garet couldn't really say much about the necromancer's handling. He exchanged glances with his teammates. The little priest John and Raymond both quietly shook their heads, signaling him not to speak.

Garet felt a bit more at ease and followed the necromancer forward a few steps. Suddenly, he saw Priest Donald rush to the fence and shout:

"Wait! Treat him first!—Let me treat him first! Otherwise, he'll die! Please!"

About ten steps away, Knight Roman lay unconscious in another bone cage, silent and still. Beside him, two warriors who were locked together were patting and shaking him, but to no avail, only causing the knight to bleed more.

Garet was silent. Honestly, seeing Knight Roman in this state gave him a small sense of satisfaction. As for treating the knight...

Uh, that collision shouldn't have caused brain hemorrhage or internal bleeding, right? He wouldn't die immediately...

The necromancer turned to look at him. Seeing that Garet showed no intention of pleading, he frowned:

"No!"

The priest flinched. The necromancer didn't have much ill will toward him. Seeing his pitiful state, he paused, thought for a moment, and asked:

"Did you bring healing potions?"

"Of course, of course!"

Priest Donald nodded vigorously. He fumbled for three bottles of healing potion, stretched out his arm, and tried to pass them through the fence. The golden skull stepped forward to take the bottles. The necromancer looked at them and pointed to one:

"Pass it to him."

The black cat leaped lightly, picked up the potion, and delivered it to the cage where Knight Roman was.

The two warriors were both surprised and delighted, grabbing the potion and forcing it down Knight Roman's throat. The healing potion the priest carried was far superior to the初级 healing potion of little John. As soon as the potion entered his throat, the knight's breathing became heavy. He groaned a couple of times and opened his eyes.

"Sir! Sir, you're awake!"

The two warriors were overjoyed. Knight Roman opened his eyes and immediately saw the healing potion in front of him. He was delighted and grabbed it, pouring it onto his wrist.

"No!"

Garet blurted out. Knight Roman's hand trembled, nearly dropping the bottle, and he glared at Garet:

"What are you doing!"

Garet instinctively flinched.

He didn't really want to get involved with Knight Roman. He had been lost in thought and was startled by the city guard's shout, reacting without thinking. Since he had already spoken, he steeled himself and continued:

"Your wound can't be treated like that... just treating the outside isn't enough, you need to fix the inside first..."

"Who listens to your nonsense!"

Knight Roman snorted, turned the bottle, and carefully dripped the healing potion onto his wrist. As the pale golden potion fell, the wrist wound immediately healed, the skin smooth and as it was before the injury.

However, his right thumb was still slightly bent, not in a natural position.

Garet sighed and turned to leave.

The necromancer watched their interaction with interest, smiled, and followed the golden skull leisurely. The stone door creaked shut behind them. The necromancer snapped his fingers, and the lights brightened. He smiled at Garet and said:

"How about it?—Do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

"Um..."

Garet was taken aback. The suggestion was tempting. He knew who had orchestrated the city guard's mobilization, and the gargoyle hadn't flown to his head for no reason. But to actually get rid of that guy...

"Maybe not?"

"Really not?"

The necromancer raised an eyebrow. He had brown hair and blue eyes, and was as thin as a reed. The movement of his eyebrow made his face look like a ghost emerging. Not to mention, his black cat leaped lightly onto the golden skull's shoulder and chimed in:

"That guy has no good intentions toward you. When I pounced, he used you as a meat shield!"

Garet: "Cats... cats can talk!!!"

Although this was a magical world where skeletons could walk and pick up their own heads, black cats talking was still a shock!

Garet involuntarily stepped back, until his back touched the cold stone door. Honestly, he had always been a bit afraid of cats in his previous life. The hospital had five or six stray cats that the nurses often fed, but he never touched them. Now, he had encountered a black cat with explosive combat power and the ability to talk!

Garet braced himself against the stone. The black cat leaped down and landed directly in front of him. Its tail slapped the ground, and it took a step forward, raising its head high and baring its teeth.

Its whiskers, half-transparent, twitched. It seemed unhappy with Garet's address:

"That's so impolite! I am the great Mr. Trocar! Don't call me a black cat! Black cat!"

Oh, it's a talking—no, an intelligent, communicative being...

Garet's adrenaline surged and then gradually calmed down. It was more worrying to have a creature with no intelligence but strong combat power. If it just pounced without saying anything, with its large size and speed, that would be a headache...

Well, this is a world with magic and divine powers. If skeletons can pick up their own heads, why should it be strange for cats to talk?

Thanks to the countless animations he had watched and games he had played in his previous life, Garet quickly accepted the "talking cat" setting. He took a step forward and politely nodded to the black cat:

"Hello, great Mr. Trocar. I was rude just now, I apologize—"

"No problem!"

The black cat waved its paw generously. As it lifted its paw, the pink pads wobbled, making Garet's fingers itch to pinch them. The black cat seemed particularly sensitive to such ill intentions, leaping away and raising its head, grinning widely:

"Seriously, do you really not want me to get rid of him for you?"

"No need."

Garet gradually calmed down. He lowered his head and gazed into the black cat's golden eyes, slowly exhaling and smiling confidently:

"That guy is already finished. If he didn't pull out and stitch the tendons before healing the wound, it's his own fault for not listening to me."