Chapter 6 Chapter 4 Waiting

Never had a morning passed so slowly for Saryon.He counted the beating of his heart, counted his breaths, counted the number of times his heavy eyes blinked and passed the time.Not long after Joram had left, a brisk breeze from the street blew into the house, and the Catalyst Saints speculated that a detachment of Blacklock's had decided to set off in search of their missing leader.Right now, every second that passed, Saryon waited to hear the commotion that would let him know that the sorcerer's body had been found. Catalyst Saints can do nothing but wait.He did envy Joram's work at the furnace, where, though mind and body were tormented, he found refuge in mind-numbing toil.Seeing Simkin lying comfortably on the bed, every muscle in the catalyst saint's middle-aged body longed for rest, so he planned to escape into sleep.Saryon lay down on Joram's bed, thinking that he would fall asleep quickly from exhaustion.But as soon as he slipped out of the boundary of consciousness, he thought he heard Van Ya's voice calling, but he was startled, covered in cold sweat and trembling.

"Vanya will contact me again tonight!" Joran's return made him overly excited, making Saryon forget about the crisis just now.Now he remembered, the minutes and seconds that he dragged his lead shoes around, suddenly grew wings and flew. Locked in the cell, Saryon was light-headed from lack of food and sleep, and all his thoughts revolved around his impending defense with the Bishop, like a stick dropped into a whirlpool. "I will not hand over Joram!" he said to himself excitedly.He made up his mind.When the Catalyst Saint was rehearsing the meeting with Fanya, he gradually found helplessly that he might have no choice in this matter. Unless Fanya can talk to the dead like the legendary ancient necromancer, otherwise today The Catholic Church must not be able to get in touch with Heisuo.Vanya would ask Saryon where the sorcerer was, and Saryon knew he was powerless to hide the truth.

"Joram slew the sorcerer with a blade made of darkness, a blade I helped make!" Saryon heard himself confess. How is this possible?Bishop Fanya asked in disbelief.Seventeen-year-old young man and middle-aged catalyst saint get rid of a Duke Sis?This mighty sorcerer can summon a hurricane from the sky to crush a human being like a dry autumn leaf.The sorcerer could infuse a man with a fiery poison that seared every nerve and turned him into a mass of twitching, writhing, writhing flesh.Is this the kind of person you got rid of? The Catalyst Saint sat beside Joram's bed, clenching and releasing his hands nervously. "He wants to kill Joram, my lord!" Saryon murmured, rehearsing his speech. "You said that the church does not condone murder. The black lock called me to give him the power of life, and asked me to absorb the magic power of the world to fill his body and let him do such dirty things! But I can't do it, His Excellency Bishop The black lock is evil, don't you see that? I see it, I've seen him kill before. Is it wrong? Is it wrong, my lord? Is it wrong to try to save another man's life? I have absolutely no intention of killing the wizard!" Saryon shook his head, staring down at his battered shoes. "I just want...to make him harmless. Please believe me, Your Excellency! I never want anything like this to happen..."

"Who is holding the 'Fool' card?" Sim Jin asked sharply.The unexpected sound made the Catalyst Saint's heart beat in his throat.Saryon shivered and glared at Simkin angrily. Simkin appeared to be still asleep.He rolled over on his side and hugged the hard pillow to his chest, pressing his face against the mattress. "Are you holding the Fool, Saint?" he asked dazedly. "If you don't take it, your king will definitely fall..." The king is definitely down.Yes, without a doubt.Once Vanya found out that his spies were dead, nothing the Catalyst Saints could do or say could prevent the Bishop from immediately sending Duke Sis to bring Joram back to the Holy Mountain.

"What am I doing?" Saryon gripped the edge of the bed, digging his fingers into the tattered fabric. "What am I thinking? Joram is dead! They can't find him! That's why Vanya has to have me or Heisuo help, he can't find the kid himself. Dukexis tracks us by the power of life, by The magic in us tracks! They'll find me, but not the living dead. Maybe they won't find me, and they won't find Joram." An idea hit Saryon like a hard punch.Trembling with excitement, he stood up and paced the small cell.He thinks it all over quickly to see if there are any flaws.No flaws, it works.He is confident, as confident as he learned the first mathematical calculation at his mother's knee.

For each force, there is a counter or corresponding force, as taught by the ancestors.In a world that exudes magic, there must also be a force absorbing it-the Dark Stone.During the Iron Wars, the Dark Stone was discovered by the Artisans of the Feycraft, and they used it to forge weapons of great power.After the demon craftsmen were defeated, their ingenious crafting methods were classified as dark crafts.People like them were persecuted, exiled, or forced into seclusion into small settlements like the one Saryon was now in.The knowledge of the Dark Stone was lost in their tumultuous and harsh lives, in their struggle to survive.It is lost in memory, reduced to meaningless words in ceremonial chants, unintelligible words in half-forgotten ancient books.

Unrecognizable to all but Joram.He found the ore, found out its secret, and forged a sword... Slowly Saryon slid his hand under Joram's mattress.He groped into the rag roll, touched the cold metal of the sword, and flinched at its sinister feel.But his hands continued to grope, and found what he was looking for—a small leather pouch.Saryon dragged it from its hiding place and held it in his hand, considering it.That method works, but does he have the strength and courage? Does he have a choice? He slowly pulled away the leather rope that tied the bag, and inside were three stones, inconspicuous and plain, looking very much like iron ore.

Saryon hesitantly held the bag in his hands, staring intently at its contents. The Dark Stone - it will protect him from Vanya's find!This card can prevent the bishop from winning the game!Saryon reached into the bag and pulled out a stone.The stone in his hand was heavy to hold, and it felt strangely warm.He folded his hands around it, unconsciously pressing it to his heart.The Bishop of Vanya is connected with him through magic, and the Dark Stone will absorb magic power, like a shield, so he is like a living dead to Vanya. "I may also become a living dead." Saryon murmured, holding the stone close to his body. "It drove me to act outside the law, it drove me away from my faith, from my homeland; it drove me away from everything I believed in, from my life. Everything in my previous life fell apart like sand From the tips of my fingers, I will have to rediscover the world again. It will be a different world, cruel and terrifying. A world without faith, without joyful answers, a world of death..."

Saryon pulled the leather cord tighter, closed the bag, and put it back in its hiding place again.But he kept a stone in his hand and held it tightly.As soon as he made up his mind, he quickly started to act, listing plans and assumptions in his mind in the way of a first-class mathematician, which was clear and clear. "I have to go to the furnace. I have to go and tell Joram that we are in danger. We are going to flee, to the Land of the Unborn, and we will be far away by the time Dukexis comes here." Saryon clenched the stone in his hand, splashed water on his face, picked up the cloak and threw it over his shoulders, leaving all his confusion and prejudice behind.He glanced back at Simkin, who was still sleeping soundly, and tapped on the window bars of the prison, calling for a guard.

"What do you want, saint?" "Didn't you receive my order this morning?" Saryon grinned a smile that he thought was docile and innocent, but unfortunately it looked more like a dead possum baring its teeth. "No." The guard yelled frighteningly. "I... uh... the furnace needs my presence today." Saryon drew in a loud breath. "The blacksmith is about to complete a difficult task and wants me to infuse him with life force." "I didn't know it happened." The guard hesitated. "Our orders are to lock you up in prison."

"But that must have been an order last night," said Saryon. "Didn't you... er... get new orders today?" "Maybe, maybe not." The guard muttered, looking uneasily at the house on the mountain.Following the guard's gaze, Saryon saw a group of Heishuo's subordinates gathered in a small black group outside the door.He wished he knew what was going on. "I think you can go," said the guard at last. "But I have to escort you." "Of course." Saryon suppressed a relieved sigh. "Is that idiot still there?" The guard looked into the prison. "Who? Oh, Simkin." The Catalyst Saint nodded. Through the window bars the guard saw the young man sprawled out on the bed, his mouth open, snoring so loudly that it could be heard from the street.At this moment, he let out a particularly exaggerated snore, so loud that he could almost blow himself out of bed. "It's a pity he didn't get choked." The guard opened the door, released the Catalyst Saint, and then slammed the door shut. "Come here, priest." After saying that, the two set off. The village streets they crossed were lined with brick houses--Saryon could not help but shudder at the sight of these houses, built entirely with human hands and tools, rather than shaped by magically driven elements. Success—at this moment, the Catalyst Saints noticed that uneasiness was growing in the crowd.Many people no longer pretended to be working, but formed small circles and whispered to each other, staring angrily at the guards who passed by with contempt on their faces. "Hmph, wait." The guard muttered and glared at them. "We will take good care of you soon." But when Saryon found that Heisuo's subordinate said this, his voice was very low.Clearly, he was nervous and frightened. Saryon didn't blame him.Five years ago, that man named Hei Suo appeared in the village of the Demon Craftsman. The sorcerer claimed to have betrayed the powerful Duke Xisi faction, and easily seized control from An Dun, who was originally a gentle man. The old man is the leader of the witch religion.The sorcerer relied on his men—the thieves and killers specially trained by Duke Sis—to strengthen his control over the witchcraft artisans. rhetoric.Some, however, still stand out against the wizards and their minions - Anton being one of them.Now that the powerful wizard is missing, it is not difficult to understand that his subordinates will be targeted. "So, what are they doing today, Father?" Saryon was taken aback.He sensed that this was the second time the guard had asked the same question, but he'd been too lost in his thoughts to pay attention. "Uh, a special weapon...made for...the country of Saraken, I think so." Saryon faltered, blushing uncomfortably.The guard nodded, and once again fell into an uneasy silence.As he continued to walk towards the furnace, he kept squinting suspiciously at the villagers he met. Saryon knew it was all right to mention Saraken.Saraken is a big country in the north of the Land of Transcendence, and it is preparing for war. They dared to find and hire demon artisans who mastered dark crafts for this purpose, which aroused the anger of the Catalyst Saints and aroused their fear.Therefore, in the past year, the demon craftsmen were busy casting all kinds of iron arrow clusters, iron spear points and daggers day and night.After being strengthened with powerful magic by the wizards of Saraken's own country, these weapons have extremely terrible lethality.And at this moment, Saraken's dagger was resting on the throat of Xiuya, the ancient kingdom of Merilon. No wonder Bishop Fanya was terrified.Saryon wouldn't blame him for that, but when he thought about it, he was filled with suspicion and fear.The Order of the Catalyst Saints had kept peace between the kingdoms of Simharon for centuries, and now the combined forces were loose and the fragile threads were torn.While Sarakon made no secret of his attempts at conquest, the Church tried to hide it from others lest it spark panic, with the result that every day the rumors spread farther and the fear deepened. But of course, Saryon thought, now that the black lock is dead, it will all be over!Settle down the wise elder leader against the opinions of the warring faction among the artisans.Without Heisuo continuing to incite, the old man would bring the others back to their senses. Before we leave, I will warn them of the impending danger.Saryon thought.I want him to know that Black Lock is leading them into a trap, and I— "Here we are." The guard said, grabbing the Catalyst Saint.The latter was so lost in his dark thoughts that he nearly fell headfirst into the furnace.As soon as Saryon became aware of his surroundings, he heard the pounding of hammers and the harsh blowing of bellows, like the beating of the heart and the expansion of the lungs of some giant beast.The giant beast entrenched in the dark lair, its eyes shot red like fire.The owner of the giant beast, the blacksmith, was standing at the door.This burly man is not only good at magic, but also proficient in ingenious craftsmanship. He leads the main battle group among the demon artisans.He likes war, but what he likes is a war without black locks interfering.No one rejoices more at the death of a sorcerer than a blacksmith.There is no doubt that Heisuo's subordinates are very afraid of this giant man and the many demon artisans who support him. The blacksmith was talking to a few young men, but they stopped talking as soon as they saw the approaching guards.The young men withdrew into the shadows of the cave where the furnace stood, and the blacksmith turned back to his work, casting a cold and defiant glance at the guards before walking away. "Father..." Someone touched his arm. Saryon looked back and was stunned. "Mosiah!" he cried, reaching out his hand in relief to seize the young man. "How did you escape..." He glanced at the guard and didn't continue. "Well, we're worried—" "Father." Mosiah interrupted him gently. "I need to speak to you a few words, privately, about... about souls," he said, looking at the guard. "Not for long." "Okay." The guard found that the blacksmith was staring at him, so he reluctantly agreed. "But not out of my sight, neither of you." Mosiah drew Saryon into the shadow of the stable, where the horses were kept for shoeing. "Father," the young man asked in a low voice. "where are you going?" "Go—go talk to Joram. I have something...we must discuss..." Saryon stammered. "About the rumors?" "What rumor?" The catalyst saint asked anxiously. "Heisuo... he's missing." Mosiah stared at Saryon. "You haven't heard?" "No." Saryon looked away and retreated into the shadows. "They have sent out a search team." "How—how do you know?" "I was in Blacklock's house when Simkin came to inform the wizard's men." "Sinkin?" Saryon stared at Mosiah. "When? What did he say?" "This morning. Let me tell you, Father." Mosiah stared at the guard and hurried on. "Last night, after you and Joram left, the guards came in and took me out. They said Heisuo was going to interrogate me or something. When we got to Heisuo's house, he wasn't there. Someone said he went with you The furnace was gone. We waited, but he didn't come back. Some of his men went to the furnace to find him, but they couldn't find him. Then, towards daybreak, Simkin came up and said a story, how the black lock came into the woods To settle an old score with the centaur—” Saryon couldn't help sighing bitterly. Mosiah stared intently at the Catalyst Saints. "You're not just hearing about it, are you, Father? I don't think so. What's the matter?" "I can't tell you now!" Saryon said in a low voice. "How did you get out?" "Come out directly while taking advantage of the chaos. I went to warn Anton. Heishuo's men are gathering. They plan to occupy the village and put out the resistance before it starts. They have weapons—sticks, knives, and bows—" "Hey, that's enough! I can't wait all day!" the guard yelled, apparently in a hurry to escape the blacksmith's angry gaze. "I have to go," Saryon said, heading for the furnace. "I'll go with you." Mosiah said firmly. "No! Go back to the cell! Keep an eye on Simkin!" Saryon instructed him anxiously. "Only Emin knows what he will say and do next!" "That's right." Mosiah thought for a while and agreed. "That's true. Are you coming back?" "Yes, yes!" Saryon quickly agreed.He saw the guard glance at Mosiah and became suspicious, as if it was strange that Mosiah could walk around at will.But even if the guard really intended to stop Mosiah, one more glance at the frowning blacksmith was enough to make him think twice. "The priest said that he came to help you with a special task." The guard said to the blacksmith, and the two looked at each other with no kindness. "You know... special mission, Saraken's." Saryon added, licking his chapped lips.The sound of beating in the room suddenly stopped.The Catalyst saw Joram looking at him, his black eyes glowing red like coals in a hearth. "The mission Joram is busy with..." Saryon's words faded away, his wellspring of lies dried up. The corners of the blacksmith's mouth twitched as if he was about to smile, but he finally just shrugged and said, "Ah, that task." He gestured with a dirty black hand. "Go inside, Father. Not you!" He glared at the guards, his voice firm and decisive.The guard flushed with anger, but the blacksmith picked up the huge hammer and swung it easily with one hand.The guard cursed under his breath and backed away.He turned around and rushed to the house on the hill. "Better hurry, Father," said the blacksmith indifferently. "There's going to be trouble soon, and I bet you wouldn't want to get caught." The blacksmith was beating the horseshoe held in the other hand, and the hammer was clanging.Saryon watched him work, and saw that the shoe, cold as a stone, had already been formed and finished.The boys reappeared, clustered near the mouth of the cave, and their numbers seemed to be growing. "Ah, thank you," said the Catalyst Saint. "I... I'll be fine soon." Amid the rumble of the beating, Saryon could not hear his own voice.He made his way through the chaos of the furnace, still haunted by the events of last night, and his gaze fell involuntarily to where the sorcerer lay bleeding— "Emin's blood! What are you doing here?" Joram scolded, gnashing his teeth. There was a red-hot and shiny spear point on the anvil in front of him.He was going to clamp it up and plunge it into a bucket of water, but Saryon stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I need to talk to you, Joram!" Saryon shouted, trying to drown out the sound of the blacksmith's hammering. "We are in danger!" "What? They've found the body?" "No. There are other dangers, more deadly dangers. I...you must know that I was sent...by Bishop Fanya...to take you back. I told you when I first came." "Yes." Joram replied, his thick black eyebrows twisted into a thick black line on his face. "You told me—after Simkin told me, but you told me anyway." Saryon blushed anxiously. "I know you don't believe me, but...listen to me! Bishop Fanya has contacted me again. Don't ask how the contact was made, it was by magic." The catalytic saint reached out to the place where the Dark Stone was hidden. The inner pocket of the robe, as soon as he touched the stone, he held it with confidence. "He wants Heisuo and I to take you to the holy mountain, and take you and the Dark Sword." "Vanya knows that there is a sword of darkness?" Joran snorted. "you tell--" "Not me!" Saryon gasped. "It's Black Lock! That wizard is - was - the Bishop's spy...it's Dukexis. I don't have time to explain everything now, Joram, the Bishop will soon find out that Black Lock is dead, it's you Kill him with the Dark Stone. He'll send Dukes here to arrest you, as he's sure to do, for fear of the power of the Dark Sword—" "Because I want the power of the Dark Sword." Joram corrected with a sullen face. Saryon blinked, which was something he hadn't considered. "Maybe." He swallowed, his throat hurting from yelling. "But we must go, Joram! Our danger increases with every passing minute!" "Our danger!" Joran's half-smiley expression was like a distorted grimace. "You are in no danger, saint! Why don't you hand me over to your bishop?" He turned his face away from the eyes of the catalyst saint, and threw back the cold spear point in his hand. In the charcoal fire. "You are still afraid of me after all. You are afraid of the Dark Stone. I was the one who killed Black Lock, and you are not guilty." Joram lifted the point of the spear out again and placed it on the anvil. For a while, he just stared at the spear. pointy, but ignore it. "We have to go to the Land of Abnormalities." His voice was so soft that Saryon had to lean over to hear his words amidst the sound of iron hammers. "You know very well the dangers we face, the risks we will face, especially when neither of us has strong magical powers. Why? Why do you want to go with me?" Joram went on with his work, his face averted from him. Why exactly?Saryon asked himself, watching Joram's drooping head, at his strong shoulders exposed to the heat of the furnace, at his curly black hair that broke free from its braids and fell, its shining curls wrapped around it like vines. Zhang Lengyi's young face.There was something in those words... full of weariness, full of worry.And some other emotion—was it hope? Saryon realized that Joram was afraid, that he was leaving the village, and that he had tried to muster up the courage to venture out alone into that strange and wild country. Why do I want to go with you, Joram?A searing lump congealed in the Catalyst Saint's throat, as if he had just swallowed a hot coal.I'll say because I held you in my arms; I'll say because you put your little head on my shoulder and let me lull you to sleep; I'll say because you're Merilon's prince and heir to the throne, And I can testify to it! But no, I can't tell you that now, I can't tell you.If you know this dangerous thing, and bear this painful wrath, Joram, you will bring tragedy to all—your parents, and the innocent people of Merilon... Saryon shuddered.No, he repeated to himself.At least I won't commit a crime like that!I'll keep it a secret until I die.But what other reason could I give this young man?I'm going with you, Joram, because I care about you and worry about what's going to happen to you, but how he would laugh at such things...   "I'm going with you," said Saryon at last. "Because I'm rediscovering my faith. To me, the Church was once as solid as a mountain range; now I see it crumbling, toppled by deceit and greed. I told you I wouldn't Going back to church again, I mean it." Joram stopped what he was doing and faced the Catalyst Saints directly.The black eyes were cold and calm, but Saryon saw a fleeting moment of disappointment, a spark of longing for some other answer that quickly faded, extinguished entirely.This scene shocked the Catalyst Saint. He thought it would be great if he told the truth, but he had already missed the opportunity. "Okay, Saint." Joram said calmly. "Anyway, it's not a bad idea for you to come with me. I can't trust you without looking at you. You know too much about the Dark Stone. Now go back to your cell and go away, and I'm going to take this Done." Saryon couldn't help sighing.Yes, he gave the right reason, how meaningless that reason was.He reached into his pocket and took out the small dark stone. "One more thing, can you make a base for this?" he asked Joram. "And make it a chain so I can wear it?" Startled, Joram took the stone, looked at it, and then at Saryon.Doubt suddenly welled up in those black eyes. "why?" "I think it keeps me out of the bishop's liaison, and it absorbs magic." Joram shrugged, and continued. "I'll bring it to you when I go back this afternoon." "You have to hurry!" Saryon said nervously. "Before night—" "Don't worry, Catalyst Saint," Joram interrupted him. "At night, we should be far away from here. By the way." He added inadvertently, and continued to work. "Have you found Mosiah?" "Found it, he's waiting in the cell, with Simkin." "So, he didn't leave..." Joran muttered to himself. "what?" "We're taking him with us, and Simkin. Go tell them and start preparing." "No! Don't take Sim'jin!" Saryon objected. "Mosiah might be fine, but don't—" "We need people who can use magic like Simkin and Mosiah, catalyst saints." Joram interrupted him mercilessly. "With the power of life you gave them, and the power of my dark sword, we may still be able to survive." He raised his eyes to look at the priest, his eyes were cold. "I hope this doesn't disappoint you." Without a word Saryon walked away from Joram and returned to the front field, carefully avoiding the ground where the sorcerer's body had lain.Is there blood there?He thought he saw a pool of blood under one of the buckets, so he looked away quickly. He had no regrets about leaving, though he had grown to like the people and understand their way of life.But in his heart, he could never overcome the discomfort of the dark craft of the Kinky Way, the discomfort that had grown inside him all his life, about such things.He knew—or thought he knew—the risks involved in going unnatural, but still naively believed that living in nature was far better than living among people who had transformed it. Where are they going?He didn't know, perhaps to Sarraken--but they might go head-on into the fray.It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter where you go--as long as you don't go to Marillon. Yes, he would be happy to leave, willing to face the dangers of Outlander.But, Emin bless.Saryon thought darkly as he walked back to his cell: Why bring Xin Jin along?