15 - Chapter 15

More and more snow fell.

Burris Gershaw looked back. The outline of the white tower was completely melted into the snowstorm, and now only the raging flames showed its existence.

His mentor Yriel died in the laboratory. He was scorched, with arrows piercing his body, and finally he was nailed by a spear on an inactivated array. After that, the Knights of the Temple of Otarot executed all the experimental creatures in the tower, and also burned many books and collections.

Burris cried, begging them not to destroy the books and the laboratory. His mentor Yriel was sinful, but this knowledge was neutral and innocent. Unfortunately, the temple knights didn’t think so. In their view, necromantic magic was inherently evil.

The knights at the gate sprinkled the laboratory and the study with an incendiary agent and soon the entire tower was swallowed by flames. Burris was shoved away in a daze, and after a while, he found out that he was in a prison cart.

Because he could only cry, the knights weren’t too hard on him. It was said that this was not the case with the more dangerous spellcasters and criminals. If the case requires you to give testimony, they will block your mouth with a cork. After a few days, even if they pull out the cork, you will not be able to close your mouth by yourself. If no one needs your testimony, they will simply cut off your tongue or destroy your vocal cords…As long as you have the intention to cast spells, they will break your fingers. If you dare to resist again, they will break your hands and feet tendons, and even some mages would be blinded…In short, they have to make sure that you have no chance to cast spells and fight back.

Decades ago, these pre-trial barbarisms were very common, but recently they have decreased a lot. Now the Temple of Otarot has learned to use potions to control captives, and by principles, the meaningless abuse of captives is forbidden –unless the captive is too dangerous to control.

When treating the apprentice Burris Gershaw, the knights were already very polite. Burris was not a dangerous mage; he was just a young apprentice around twenty years old.

Moreover, it was precisely thanks to his assistance that the Otarot Temple could get sufficient evidence and have the opportunity to send the Knights to execute Yriel legally.

His mentor, Yriel, ruled a northern plain that did not belong to any country. In his territory, he could do almost whatever he wanted. If there was no convincing evidence and reason, neither the temple nor the neighboring countries could deal with him.

Burris did not intend to be a traitor in the beginning. He originally wanted to be a potion-brewer, but by chance, he entered the tower of Yriel… He really wanted to pursue knowledge and to study the mystery of death.

But later he gradually realized that his mentor, Yriel, was a tyrant, not a researcher. He would not impart knowledge; he would only bring destruction.

Yriel provided weapons to the Grey Mountains Spirits living in the mountains and exaggerated the Gray Mountains Spirits’ ambitions to the border residents and plains nomads. He used war to test his magic weapons and harvest a large number of dead bodies and souls. He made the blood from the plains flow like a river, and made life submit to his feet. He even planned to sacrifice lives in order to connect the isolated planes from ancient times and find Hell; it had long been far away from the world…

Everyone knows that the next step in gaining power is to expand ambitions and seek greater power. This is not surprising; it can even be said that such talents are normal. Aspirants want to conquer more territory and gain more control. What people really need is the rolling benefits after victory, rather than a world of death and hopelessness.

That was not the case with his mentor Yriel. Yriel was not after ambition, but the pleasure of destruction and dominance. He liked to use killing to make others be afraid, and then get satisfaction from their fear. Then, he used this satisfaction as his motivation, and then he continued to make more large-scale killings… In Burris’s view, this was completely meaningless.

If Yriel had won, he or his allies would never have wine or wealth to enjoy, for they had already destroyed everything.

The knights attacked on the day of the winter solstice. In the plains and the ice lake it had been snowing for three days, and it was getting worse and worse. Burris curled up in the prison cart, looking back at the tower, tears frozen on his face, making his skin sting.

A young knight thought he was afraid and comforted him. The knight said: We know that you are not bad in nature, otherwise you would not have taken the risk to help us collect Yriel’s criminal evidence. But after all, you are his apprentice, and you have participated in many of his criminal acts. We still have to take you back. Only in this way can we give an explanation to the Temple, other nearby countries, and local tribes. Don’t be afraid, what you will face is a fair trial, and your actions to offset the crime will be affirmed.

The tower gradually disappeared from view. Burris relaxed a bit, but the knights who escorted him did not. Burris knew that although his betrayal to his mentor was beneficial to the outside world, others would not trust him for it.

In the wind and snow that obscured his vision, Burris vaguely saw a figure.

The man was at the bottom of the cavalry ranks. He was tall and slow, as if he were the tallest and slowest veteran. The armor of the Otarot Temple Knights was black, and the man at the end of the team was also dressed in black. He seemed to wear a long-horned helmet on his head, which was completely different from the knights’ feather helmets.

He shifted his vision a little, and that person was gone again…that person didn’t have to ‘disappear’, maybe they changed position, maybe the helmet was taken off… or it wasn’t a helmet at all? Was it some weapon raised by a knight?

Burris was in a trance and his eyes were not working well. He always saw the figure at a casual glance, and when he looked at it carefully, it seemed that it was just an illusion.

The army moved slowly through the snowstorm. At the end of the day, the man was still appearing and disappearing. Burris didn’t pay attention to him anymore. He was just a tall man walking slowly…otherwise, what could it be?

If he was a monster that slipped through the net, he would have killed them. If he was the god of death that only he could see, why didn’t he come to harvest his soul?

Dreaming will prolong people’s sleep time. Burris usually woke up very early, but today he slept until noon.

He was awakened by the sound of pounding on the door, thanks to Roth yelling outside and knocking on the door desperately. Otherwise, Burris’s long dream would continue. When he was tired, it was easy for him to dream of the past and his youth. The picture was like a replay of the past, but the details were not clear.

Yesterday, he bumped on the carriage all day, and finally rushed to the city after the gate of the royal capital was closed. For security reasons, several large cities within Sago’s territory banned teletransportation magic and fixed teleportation arrays. The royal capital had tightened its control. A monitoring stone was set up in each guard post, and battle mages were monitoring the fluctuations from the stone in real time in the Tower of Truth in the capital.

This system was designed and arranged by Burris himself many years ago. He could take advantage of the loopholes to evade the surveillance and go directly to the capital, but… it must be the original Burris to do it. The problem of the different tones of his soul had not been solved yet, and he could only study many high-level spells, but he couldn’t cast them. Therefore, he could only use the teleportation array to reach other locations, and then hire a carriage to move on.

The teleportation array he used was positioned at the edge of the Emerald Manor, still a certain distance away from the royal capital, but fortunately, there was a road to get there quickly. Who would have thought, in these days a crack appeared on a bridge in the official road, and all the carriages had to go around it. The original half day’s journey now had extended from morning to sunset. When he arrived at the royal capital, Burris was listless, completely numb from the waist down. Roth was not tired. He sat in front with the coachman and would shout at the sight of the high arches or the commercial street. He was a conscientious peasant.

Because of the court invitation letter, Burris and Roth moved into an official inn specially prepared for distinguished guests. After checking in, Burris was too tired to speak, and he even had dinner sent to his room, while Roth stayed in the hall enthusiastically to watch the singing and dancing performances; he didn’t know when it was time to drink.

Although Roth had a worrying sense of beauty and loved to spend money, there was one thing that made Burris feel at ease: he will never reveal his identity to strangers casually.

In Holly Village, he claimed to be a guest of the Mage Tower. In other towns, he claimed to be the traveling son of a merchant. At the inn in the royal capital, he claimed to be the messenger of the Mage Tower. His answer was general and precise, and the listener would smile clearly and wouldn’t ask questions. Because of this, Burris was able to stay in his room and rest peacefully, without having to stare at Roth to help him with his lies.

Burris thought about this in a daze, paralyzed in bed for a long time before waking up completely. Roth was still knocking on the door, pounding on it with rhythmical beats. Burris sat up unhurriedly, took a sip of water, and went to open the door.

“Are you twenty or eighty? Why are you acting so slowly?” Roth slipped in as soon as the door opened. “It’s really not a young man, he’s still an eighty-years old man.”

Burris replied slowly: “It’s not like that. Older people sleep less, but younger bodies need more sleep. Is there anything I can do for you, my lord?”

“No. I just heard news! It’s astonishing!” Roth held the mage’s shoulders with both hands, and said solemnly: “Last night, Miss Tarina was stabbed to death by a durian!”

Burris opened his mouth slightly, unable for a moment to combine the words he heard into valid information.

“Tarina?” He asked. “Is it that Tarina? Estel’s cousin, Prince Lantto’s youngest daughter?”

“It’s her”

“She is dead?”

“Some people say she fainted; others say she is dead. The version of her death was said by the merchant who came to the hotel to deliver wine in the morning. The merchant listened to the soldiers patrolling outside the wall of the palace, and the soldiers listened to the maid. The innkeeper retorted that miss Tarina was not dead but suffered from a sudden illness. The innkeeper heard that from the silk merchant, who was listening to the bard who was going to play in the palace.”

Isn’t this all hearsay?… Burris suddenly thought of another important point: “Wait, how did you just say Tarina died?”

“She was stabbed to death by a durian.”

“Durian? You mean durian? My lord, have you ever seen a durian? Is that kind of fruit imported from Quintilia? It’s yellow, very big and it has many thorns on the skin. It smells bad when you peel it off…”

“That’s it. I haven’t eaten it, but I have seen it.”

“How can a person be stabbed to death by a durian?” Burris could not feel the horrible atmosphere of the murder.

Roth shrugged: “I don’t know the details. We are going to the palace this afternoon, and Estel will definitely tell you about it. By the way, Burris, I also found out something… ”

At this point, Roth lowered his voice, and Burris couldn’t help but frown.

Roth held out his finger and hooked the flaxen hair curled over the mage’s shoulder: “I found out…you look very beautiful with your hair down. Don’t tie your hair in the future. You tie up your hair like an old-fashioned pedant. Wearing your hair down gives you a more youthful vitality.”

Burris walked away helplessly: “You always change topics so quickly; I can’t keep up with your thinking rhythm.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get used to it.” Roth leaned against the table, watching Burris tie his hair and put on his coat.

The gaze set on his back was making him very uncomfortable. Burris changed his clothes halfway and took a cup and a towel and went to the bathroom, taking the opportunity of washing to secretly tidy up his remaining clothes.

In fact, he didn’t need to take off his clothes, and he won’t show anything that shouldn’t be exposed. Besides… it doesn’t matter if something gets exposed. The person standing outside was not a human being, but a demigod, a higher undead creature, and he was also male…But he just didn’t want to be stared at all in this way. Dress and wash in the same room? This is a bit too intimate, a bit strange to him, and a bit weird.

“Burris.” Roth’s voice came from outside. “Did you ever expect me to be so annoying?”

The mage chuckled. “I don’t think you are annoying, my lord.”

Roth said unceremoniously: “I didn’t mean that. In fact, I know you don’t annoy me. The term ‘annoying’ here is not derogatory, but means being overly lively, full of curiosity and focused on the taste of life.”

Burris washed his face slowly, and Roth continued outside: “When I first saw you more than sixty years ago, I didn’t mean to talk to you much. At that time, you looked sick and mentally unstable, and I didn’t know what kind of character you had. I was afraid that talking casually would scare you.”

“Not really.” Burris replied, wiping his face. “Your language is no different from that of a normal person. On the contrary, your appearance at that time was more frightening. I was really scared at first, but soon I accepted the reality.”

Roth suddenly rushed in a few steps and unceremoniously opened the bathroom door. Burris turned his head and inwardly decided that the door must be locked afterwards…Fortunately, he was just washing his face this time.

“You know, I get excited when I talk about the past!” Roth held the door frame with one hand, and from his expression, he was really excited. “At that time, I thought you must be able to do great things! I really wasn’t wrong. My little mage has become so powerful and rich! Now looking at you every day, I just…I just want to…”

Burris was so scared that he dropped the towel into the basin. “You…what are you thinking?”

Roth didn’t go on. He held up the doorframe with one hand and remained motionless for several seconds…Finally, he put down his hand and returned to the room apologetically.

“It’s nothing, let’s not talk about it. Let’s change the topic.” He stood by the window, turned his back to the mage, pretending to be looking at the scenery. “I just occasionally expressed my emotions. My literary attainments are not deep, and I may not be able to express the meaning of my words, so I will not say it… it will definitely scare you. Don’t mind me, don’t ask.”

Burris nodded with an ‘mhm’ and sat down to organize his belongings. Roth looked at the scenery for a few minutes, then turned his head back: “I told you not to ask. Are you really not going ask anymore?”

“I… follow your wishes.” Burris answered ambiguously. In fact, he was quite curious about what Roth wanted to say, but he felt it was best not to lead him to say it.

Because Burris lowered his head, he couldn’t see the changes on Roth’s face – like a drunkard with a painful determination to push the glass away, or like a happy hunter who had to let go of the deer in a trap under the glare of a druid.

In the end, Roth didn’t go on. He regained his energy, took Burris’s glass and drank some water, and then ran back to his room to change his clothes.