The Devil’s Cage

The mist swirled slightly, the face that it formed getting distorted along with the motion.

The lively misty face instantly became strange.

The stranger thing was, the misty face spilled out all the answers in a daze when asked by Bloody Mary.

“I will not tell you we are not what bloody remnants!

I will not tell you we originally planned as such.

I will not tell you that we’ve already gained advantages that you could never imagine!”

Sentence after sentence.

Bloody Mary’s countenance gradually turned heavy and strict following what the misty face revealed.

As for this dungeon world, Bloody Mary knew what was going on as it had been following Kieran around.

Its boss and itself were intruders; that Broker was also an intruder.

However, Broker had many preparations and arrangements setup for him.

Even though Broker’s current target was locked on Borl alone, Bloody Mary believed that since Broker wanted to use Borl as an entry point, Borl must have something unusual with him.

Bloody Mary was also certain that its boss was following Borl because of this particular point.

Otherwise, with its understanding towards its boss, he would have executed his plan to maximize the profits and gains, not pressing forward step by step and improvising as he went.

He was thinking of nothing more than what Broker was after, and now…

“So this is what that bastard is after? A riot?”

As Bloody Mary pondered upon the thought, it delivered what it saw and heard to Kieran.

A new order then arrived, Bloody Mary quickly putting the bone bracelet into the small pocket inside its sleeve.

It would be impossible for it to barge into the enemy’s lines heads on, so all it could do was rely on its wits and illusions to meet its boss’ expectations.

Thinking about its boss’ mission, Bloody Mary muttered softly.

The night wind whistled and it carried Bloody Mary’s figure away.

Hu.

As the windy night wind blew, a lot of people instinctively shrunk their necks into their collars.

The night wind of the Northern Land was never as pleasant and comfortable as the wind of the South.

It was cold and the coldness could pierce bones.

Even with a thick padded coat, standing in the wind for more than half an hour without moving would cause freezing and risk numbing one’s face, especially the nose and ears, which were exposed outside. They would not be able to escape the harsh frostbite.

So when everyone walked past Sivalka, they looked at him with a surprising and curious gaze, seeing he was wearing a set of casual clothing without any padded coat or hat or scarf.

He stood in the night and looked up to the moon, his mouth slowly curled up, as if either he was smiling or showing a disdainful look.

It was hard to pinpoint what the exact expression he was showing was.

Some thought they saw a crazy man, an idiot, they couldn’t help but pucker their lips into sardonic smiles.

Some left quickly, thinking they were looking at a madman.

There were also some who were afraid and they were the kind who had witnessed the supernatural, confirming whether or not Sivalka possessed such outstanding powers.

Sivalka didn’t even care about the people’s gazes.

His ‘rest’ time was limited, he didn’t have extra time to waste it with them.

Back when he first got his rest time, he had some conflict with someone else, which ended his rest prematurely plus canceled another rest time. Sivalka had learned to be calm.

Or else, what could he do?

Kill himself?

No!

Sivalka knew how afraid he was of dying.

Back when he was a mercenary, he had a title given to him: Coward Sivalka.

Though he didn’t care. The important thing was that he could still breathe and live another day, right?

As long as he was alive, there would be hope.

If he was dead… then everything would be over.

He always admired those who were brave and took charge in the frontline, therefore every time he went for a grave visit, he would pluck extra flowers along the way.

Liquor?

It was considered a decent day when the coward Sivalka had eaten a full meal, so there wasn’t any extra money for him to purchase any alcoholic drinks.

After he became an armed deacon, Sivalka was able to have a full meal every time and he even got a glass of red wine everyday. It was something that he dreamt of before and could never have.

The sweet and sourish taste was nice. If the color wasn’t red, he would like it a lot more.

Whenever he thought of the red colored liquid, Sivalka’s throat started to itch and his stomach started to cramp.

Ugh!

Sivalka put his hand on the wall beside him and started to retch.

It was the after effect of the remnant.

While he had the option of having a grown man’s thumb and index finger, a grown woman’s pair of eyes or a liter of virgin blood, the Dark Hall always provided him with the last option.

The last option was reusable but it was a liter! Even if it was water, he would take half a day to finish it! Let alone blood!

If Sivalka wasn’t worried about getting punished because he was unable to complete his mission, he would never touch those things.

It made him feel like he was no different than those blood-sucking vampires.

No! Those blood-sucking vampires were much bolder than him!

What was he? He was just the coward Sivalka!

“Uncle, are you okay?”

A meek voice of a girl sounded in his ears.

Sivalka looked up and saw a little girl with plain and patched clothes in front of him, looking at him with a gaze full of concern.

Sivalka looked around. He suddenly realized that he had wandered to the slum area of the Lower Seven Ring of Edatine Castle.

The Lower Seven Ring housed the slums of the city.

Some bankrupt merchants and cripples who were unable to work anymore would eventually find a landing place here.

Of course, it also included some weak women and their children; this little girl was one of them.

“I’m fine,” Sivalka shook his head. He didn’t want anything to do with the slum because it would be troublesome.

He could barely care for himself. Should he involve himself with more things, it would be nothing but trouble.

“Hold on, uncle,” said the little girl before she ran into her house and brought a cup of warm water out.

“Mother said it is best to drink some warm water when you are in pain. Remember uncle, if you are alive, there is hope.”

It was without a doubt the little girl was treating him like a wandering bankrupt merchant.

No explanation was given though. Sivalka took the warm water and finished it in one gulp.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. He moved his hand into his pocket for his wallet.

As an armed deacon, he was never short of money.

The Dark Hall practised a salary system, and although the pay wasn’t something lucrative, it was still a lot better than normal people.

However, when his hand went into his pocket, he was stunned: he did not bring his wallet out.

He yearned for his rest time too much, to the point that he left Dark Hall in a hurry and forgot about his wallet.

Damn it!

He thought of using money to solve this little trouble, but now it seemed like…

While Sivalka put his hand in his pocket and frowned, the little girl saw it and hesitated for a while. She ultimately ran back into her house and then brought out a scarf.

It wasn’t woven using cotton but patched up using old broken clothes.

It was small, it belonged to the little girl.

“Here uncle, for you. It will keep you warm a bit. There is also a bed here, it belongs to Uncle Cripple. He has a bad temper but if you can talk to him nicely, he might let you open a tab and sleep there for a bit. Besides, Uncle Cripple can also introduce you to a job. If you have a job, you can rent an old big coat from Uncle Cripple and if you want to eat, you can go to Auntie One-Eyed, she also allows you to open a tab but after you have earned some money, you must pay her back, she has four kids to bear…”

Sivalka looked at the little girl in a daze as she provided the guidelines of “how to survive in the slums”.

He could tell the little girl knew he had no money.

Judging from the patched up scarf that was given to him, Sivalka also knew that the little girl’s family wasn’t rich, somewhat on the line of poverty.

“All of you are already so poor, why still…” Sivalka couldn’t hold back his question.

“We are able to live because someone else helped us before. That’s why mother said we should help the others who are like us,” said the little girl with utmost naivety, her pure eyes looking at Sivalka with faint delight.

There wasn’t any profit behind her action, neither were there any schemes, she just wanted to help and only that.

“Okay, thanks.” Sucking in a deep breath, Sivalka thanked her again but he did not take the scarf.

He didn’t need it, the little girl did.

He saw the little girl’s hands start to swell, Sivalka then pointed at the place where the little girl pointed at.

“I know where I should be going now. You better run home, and… do not simply speak with strangers, it’s dangerous.”

Hurried footsteps came out from the door that Sivalka was pointing at, it seemed like the little girl’s parents had found out that their daughter was missing.

With a smile on his face, Sivalka headed to the place where the little girl was pointing earlier and left before the parents showed up.

Of course he wasn’t going to look for a job, but he couldn’t bear letting the little girl down, so… it was just for the ‘help’ she mentioned.

Sivalka walked away and the worried cries of the mother had sounded behind him.

“Ellie, I told you not to simply go out! Come inside!”

The little girl was brought back into the broken old house by her mother. Sivalka turned around for a last glance and saw the little girl waving at him, expressing goodbye.

Sivalka also replied with a wave. The house’s old door slammed shut.

After Sivalka made sure he was away from the little girl’s sight, he made a U-turn and headed back to the Central Third Ring.

His hastened steps were proof of his newly made decision: he would bring enough Gold Purton in his next rest day.

Repay goodwill with kindness.

Ellie was worth his kindness.

It might not be a lot but it could at least free Ellie from the poverty situation.

He knew what was going to happen in the slums soon.

If the little girl didn’t help him earlier, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, but after he received help from Ellie, he wouldn’t want a pure little girl to go through something so cruel.

‘This will be another big sum of unnecessary spending.

This is why I should really bring my wallet with me!

I could have solved this with two or three Copper Krak. Now I will have to put out at least 50. No, she still has a mother and a sister, and if they want to move to somewhere near the Central Third Ring, they will need at least 100 Gold Purton.

There goes my pension.’

With that thought in mind, Sivalka looked a little sad, but his heart felt warm.

People always unconsciously felt warmth from others.

Then they would choose to spread the warmth to others.

Maybe at times, everyone forgot about the original intention and became cold and selfish, but when warmth expelled the coldness away, who wouldn’t take down the masks they put on?

There might be some who’d never remove their masks, but definitely not Sivalka.

He was a coward, but not a cold person.

Humming a tune from his hometown, Sivalka wanted to stroll for a while longer, but the hateful person always appeared when he was in a good mood.

The Watcher came out from the shadows of the street corner.

“What? My rest time isn’t over.”

Sivalka raised a brow and said in an unfriendly tone.

He had zero fondness for this cold Watcher.

It wasn’t just because he was watched, it was also because these Watchers did things coldly. These were the guys who could never feel warmth.

“An accident happened during the mission. Priest Divano is dead. You need to go back and verify the situation,” said the Watcher coldly.

The tone of his voice was flat, his voice so cold that people would shudder upon hearing it.

“Accident in a mission?” Sivalka was rather surprised.

It wasn’t that he had never met a situation where the mission went south. Accidents could happen anywhere, anytime, but the head who carried out the mission dying in one was a first for him.

On top of that, Divano was a very troublesome person.

He was one of the direct line of descents of the Dark Hall, favored by several important figures.

Now, Divano was dead and he, Sivalka, would be in trouble.

“Fine.”

With the thought in mind, the coward Sivalka nodded repeatedly.

He didn’t want to waste time anymore because it might very well be evidence against him.

Following the Watcher, Sivalka was pondering over what he would face next and how he should overcome it.

After the duo went through an alleyway, Sivalka instinctively noticed something was wrong.

This wasn’t the way back to the Dark Hall.

Sivalka immediately halted his steps but he was forced to resume because a musket was pointed at his back.

Due to his remnant, his body had surpassed normal men but was definitely not impenetrable. A weapon like the musket would be enough to harm him.

If he was shot, he would bleed, and he might very well bleed to death.

Sivalka knew what he should do.

Sivalka was seized by the musket as he continued to follow the Watcher, soon arriving at a new place: the residential area near the Upper Seven Ring.

Many merchants liked to live here, plus there were many hotels in the area, Carrot Hotel only nearby.

The person behind Sivalka stopped, as did the Watcher.

The person behind Sivalka did not show his face but the Watcher spoke, “Sivalka, you should have awakened already, right?”

“Awaken? What do you mean?” Sivalka asked out of confusion.

“Awakening your own self! Do you still want to be treated as a remnant? Or.. do you think I am lying to you?” said the Watcher as he fluttered his mantle.

Tentacles came out from underneath his mantle and his face was revealed after the hood was removed. He had no nose and in its place was a mouth that connected to his original mouth, sharp fangs showing on the edge of the lips and the tongue licking back and forth.

“Release your power! Join us! And then fight back! Our time is finally…”

Puk!

A dagger flashed over from the shadow and swept past the Watcher and the person behind Sivalka. The dagger then landed in the hands of an old man.

The dark gray windcoat of his fluttered in the night wind and the wind carried his voice into Sivalka’s ears, “You are also a ‘pagan’?”