Chapter 34 Chapter 5 Stone Embryo

Joram moved through the crowd with style.He was already a baron in his heart; this beautiful woman beside him was his wife.He was hardly noticed except to wonder why both he and this beautiful young lady walked the earth like catalyst saints.But that will change, and soon!Perhaps in as little as an hour Lord Samuels would be walking—yes, walking—by Joram, calling him Lord Fitzgerald, and insinuating him to his friends. Soon to be part of the Samuels family forever.Then they will pay attention to him.thought Joram with dark delight.It's not enough for them to pay attention to me. I will find Saryon.He plans.Then I'm going to have that fat bishop who used the Catalyst Saints cry and apologize to us.Maybe I can still figure out a way to get him fired.then--

"Qiao Lang." Ge Wen called him shyly.There was such a strange look on his face--smugness, longing, and a stern darkness that she couldn't understand. "We can't go any further." "Ah, where are your father and that druid?" Joran suddenly realized that he had forgotten the things around him just now. "On the floor of the Way of Water." Ge Wen pointed down. The two stood on the terrace, looked over the ninth floor, and looked straight at the golden forest at the bottom.The sight in front of you is breathtaking, each floor lit up with its own unique color - except the way of death, where there is nothing but a gray nothingness.Mages floated up and down, and feasts were held on every floor.Joram glanced up the stairs and saw the Catalyst Saints trudging along the stairs, their shoes clattering, their breathing laborious.

This gave him the excuse he needed. "You float down, miss," he said to Gwendoline, slowly letting go of her hand reluctantly.When he was so engrossed in thinking about his own affairs before, he was still very concerned about the warm fragrance that was close to him, as well as the occasional touch of smooth skin and soft body. "Tell your father and I'll come. I'll go down." Gwendelyn was taken aback when she heard the words. She watched the Catalyst Saints going up and down the corridor, and Joram couldn't help laughing with a sympathetic look on her face.He took her hand and said to her in his heart: Soon, dear, you will be proud to walk this corridor with your husband.He said loudly: "Of course you can understand, I can't let Father Dunstable give me the power of life today, no matter how important the occasion is..."

Gwendelyn blushed with embarrassment. "Oh, no!" she whispered in shame.She did forget about that poor catalyst saint.Joram could of course get his life force from another catalyst saint, but there are many mages who love and are loyal to their saint and feel that borrowing the power of another saint is almost like committing adultery . "Of course not. I was foolish to forget it, though." Her charming eyes looked at Joram. "How noble you are, to make such a sacrifice for him." This time it was Joram's turn to blush, seeing the love and admiration in those blue eyes, and thinking that he had lied to get it.It doesn't matter.He quickly told himself.Soon she'll know the truth, and soon they'll all know the truth...

"Go, your father is waiting," said Joram gruffly.He walked her to the opening of the decorated terrace through which the mages entered and exited the King's Hall.He bowed, let go of her hand, and watched her gracefully walk into the air.His heart tightened, but he could only stand where he was, trying not to rush over to rescue her, lest she suddenly fall into the golden forest below—if he stepped on the ground, he must have asked for help up.Gwendelyn, however, looked up at him with a smile, and floated down like a lily on the river, the skirt of the gown floating beside her like a petal, and the petticoat clinging to the Her legs wrapped her tightly without breaking the etiquette.

"Way of water," Joram murmured, then turned and rushed down the corridor, nearly knocking over a fat, angry-looking Catalyst Saint whom Joram found to be the The one Simkin tortured and made fun of just now. Going downstairs is naturally much easier than going upstairs.Joram ran so fast that he almost flew up, and it didn't seem to take him too long to reach the floor of the Way of Water.He struggled to even out his breathing—whether it was the running down the stairs, or the shortness of breath caused by the excitement in his heart, he didn't know. He couldn't see Gwendelyn anywhere, and when he was looking for her in a hurry, a voice stopped him: "Joran, this way."

He turned to see her waving at him through an open door that he hadn't noticed before, set into the watery background of his surroundings.Joram hurried to the door through visions of merfolk and fish of all colors, hoping with all his heart that the room of this private meeting would not look like a dark cave full of oysters. Not really.Apparently all kinds of illusions were limited only around the terrace, and the room into which Gwendelyn led Joram was like the room in Lord Samuels' house, except for the extravagant furniture.This is a living room, designed to allow mages to rest without expending their magical powers.Several chaise longues, upholstered in uniquely designed soft brocade, are neatly arranged in a circle around this cozy room, with a table next to them.

In one of the well-arranged chairs sat a small, thin woman who looked like a bird perched on the cushion.Joram recognized her as a druid of high standing by the brown and fine material of her robes.She was old—too old, Joram thought, older than his mother eighteen years before.Although it was spring and the room was cramped, she huddled by the fire Lord Samuels had been ordered to light in the fireplace.The brown robe swelled around her slender body like the puffed feathers of a terrified bird, and she kept arranging and picking the velvet fibers from the clothing with her thin, claw-like hands, making the image of the terrified bird more vivid. .

Lord Samuels stood on the ground beside the chaise longue--a solemn gesture on such occasions--with his hands clasped behind his back.He was dressed in the same sombre colors as the other mages on this sad anniversary, and he was well dressed, but not so well as those who stood above him--which is what people in high positions often do. Note and endorse the merits.He bowed awkwardly when Joram entered the room, and Joram returned the same curtly.The druid's bean-eyed stared at Joram curiously. "Thank you, daughter." Lord Samuels turned to Gwendelyn with doting and proud eyes, and even if the next meeting was serious, his love for his daughter could not be weakened. "I think you'd better leave us alone."

"Oh, but, Father!" cried Gwendelyn, and then, seeing her father frown slightly, she sighed.She cast one last glance at Joram--a glance that offered her heart and soul--and curtseyed gracefully to the druid, who flapped his skirts in return, before exiting the room, clapping softly. closed the door. Lord Samuels put a spell on the door so that they would not be disturbed. "Joran." He said indifferently, stepped forward and extended his hand in greeting. "Let me introduce Minnie, the wizard of Zeldalar. This Zeldaara has been in charge of the delivery room of the Holy Mountain for many years. She is now fortunate to—" He said the following introduction cautiously. "Take care of our beloved Empress, we pray for her health every day."

Joram noticed that Lord Samuels was careful not to meet his eyes when he said this; he also noticed that anyone who spoke of the Queen chose their words carefully and avoided eye contact. Joram himself found it difficult to meet the druid's eyes, so he bowed, thanking the courtesy for avoiding the need for eye contact.He was disgusted at the thought of the old woman tending a dead body.He felt itchy all over, and felt that the airless and hot room smelled of death and decay.Yet he found himself wondering with a kind of horribly morbid curiosity, what kind of magic had they used to make the corpse behave?Did the panacea take the place of the blood flowing through that silent heart?Do potions throb in veins, herbs keep skin from rotting?What magic made that frozen hand move with frightening grace, what thaumaturgy made those glassy eyes sparkle? He thought of the Dark Sword strapped to his back, and felt its presence.I gave life force to lifeless things, so I was marked as a demon craftsman of dark crafts.he thought.But what kind of sin is this?To prevent that which belongs to the gods--if such men believe in gods--to seek their true destiny among the stars, to imprison it in flesh and blood? He sat up straight, afraid that he might not be able to look the old woman in the eye, afraid that he would appear to be bluntly disgusted.Then he reminded himself sternly that he didn't need to care about these things.What does the queen have to do with him?What mattered was his own life, not another's death. Joram raised his eyes and shook off the black hair that fell in front of him. He looked at the druid calmly, and even smiled.She made a hoarse voice like a crow's, as if she understood what he was thinking, and found it pleasing to her.She raised her claw-like hand, and stretched it forward for Joram to kiss.He did as well, stepped forward and bowed to kiss, but he couldn't—the resistance from the bottom of his heart prevented him from touching his lips to the withered flesh. Lord Samuels motioned for Joram to sit down, and though Joram would have preferred to stand, he compelled himself to do so. "I have not explained the situation to Zelda Laminne, Joram, and I prefer to have the honor of beginning to intervene in such a sensitive matter after you are present." "Thank you, my lord," said Joram sincerely. Lord Samuels bowed slightly, and went on: "As a gesture of kindness to my friend Father Richard, Celdarra has graciously resolved to see us. I leave the interpretation to you, young man. people." Zeldalar stared eagerly at Joram, her thin lips drawn together like a bird's beak. This is a surprise.For some reason Joram did not expect to explain the situation himself, but he thanked Lord Samuels for not interfering in his affairs in any way, for not mentioning the matter in his absence.He wished Saryon was here too.The Catalyst Saints have a way of reducing things lightly into easy to understand words.Joram was at a loss for a moment, not knowing where to start.He was also very scared, and just realized how many unrevealable hidden stakes there are in this matter. "My name is Joram." He began with difficulty, trying to remember, trying to put all the pieces into shape. "My mother is Anya. Does this—does this remind you of anything?" The druid responded to these words with a nod like a bird pecking at bread crumbs, his little head bobbing up and down, but on the other hand he remained silent. Joram didn't know whether it was a positive or negative attitude, so he continued in a panic: "I grew up in a serf mage's village... I stayed there all my life. But... my mother always told me—" He felt his face burn. "I am of noble blood, and my family is in Merilon. She... my mother... said my father was a... a catalyst saint. They sinned and were united in the flesh, and thus begot me .They were caught." Joram couldn't hide the sadness in his words. "My father was sentenced to transformation. To this day, he stands at the border..." He kept silent, thinking of the stone statue, feeling the warmth of those tears splashing down on him.Would he wish he had come here?Joram suddenly felt bewildered, then shook his head angrily, and continued. "My mother gave birth to me on the Holy Mountain, she told me so. Then she ran away with me. I don't know why she left. Maybe she was scared. Maybe, at that time, she had a little Crazy..." It was hard to say the words, choking him.He never thought it would be so painful.He couldn't look at Lord Samuels or Zelda right now, he could only stare sullenly at his hands that were constantly clenched and loosened. "She told me that one day we'd be back in Merilon and get back what was ours, but." He took a deep breath. "She passed away before seeing this day. Due to various reasons, I escaped from the village where I grew up and lived in the land of alienation for a while. But now, I have found a way to return to Malilong and come here to claim me proper inheritance." "The question is, Zelda Laminne," interposed Lord Samuels, knowing that Joram had said all he could. "There isn't any record of this young man's birth. It's unusual, I suppose." He made a gesture of disapproval. "The number of poor people... we shall say... the number of fallen women who went to the Holy Mountain to give birth, and in the confusion, the records were misplaced. Or - as is likely in Joram's case - the mothers Quietly left the holy mountain, fearing that he would be followed, destroying the record or taking it away. We hope you will recognize him-" "There was also a birth moon that night." Zelda La suddenly spoke harshly. "Say it again, please?" Lord Samuels blinked.Joram held his breath and looked up. "A birth month." The old woman said unhappily. "Full moon. We knew the nursery would be calm when we saw a full moon in the sky, and we were not wrong." "Then you remember?" Joram drew a breath, and leaned over, trembling. "Remember?" Druid laughed hoarsely, then coughed, and wiped his beak-like mouth with a claw-like hand. "I always remember Anya. I was there on the day the sentence of transformation was sentenced." She said with some pride. "I went to look after her. She was very poor. I knew it was because the child died before it was born. If it wasn't for the mother's resignation, it was because the death of the child allowed her to witness the scene of execution. But this is their purpose. This It is the law." The old woman drew back her robe, letting it surround her. "Yes, keep talking!" Joram almost wanted to pull her up and hold her in his arms, she looked so cute right now. The druid stared at the fire, giggling, and the bird's beak pecked at the claws one after another.Suddenly, she raised her head abruptly and stared directly at Joram. "I was right," she said sharply, her voice echoing throughout the room. "I am right." "Yes? What do you mean?" "Of course he was born to die!" Druid giggled. "The child was born dead. That's strange, too." The old woman's eyes lit up with a sly gleam, and her high-pitched voice became lilting menace. "The child turned to stone in the mother's womb! Just like the father! I've never seen anything like this before." She turned to Lord Samuels and squinted, admiring the reaction she evoked. . "I've never seen it before! This is God's punishment." Joram stiffened.It was as if he had become the baby in the story—or the father. "I don't understand." His voice was broken.Lord Samuels whispered to him, but Joram did not look up, nor took his eyes from the face of old Zeldalar.He stopped shaking, nothing moved in his body, not even his heart beat. Zeldara's claws moved, as if pushing something away. "Most dead babies are soft like cats, poor thing. But not this one, not Anya's baby." The druid scraped the air with his fingers at each word. "The eyes are staring at the void, as cold and hard as stone. I want to say, this is the punishment of the two of them." "It's not true!" Joram couldn't recognize his own voice. The druid raised his head, squinting at him with a pair of bean eyes, and the claws pointing at him trembled. "I don't know whose son you are, young man, but you're not Anya's! Oh, she's crazy. That's for sure." The bird-like head nodded. "I know now that she did exactly what we've been suspecting - stole some poor unwanted baby from the nursery and passed it off as her own. That's what Dukexis told us when he questioned us, and I Now I know it's true." Joram had no answer.Her words floated toward him as if in a dream.He could not speak or move.In the same dream he heard Lord Samuels snap a few words. "Dukesy? So, what are they investigating?" "Investigation?" The old woman croaked. "Well! They had to snatch the dead baby from Anya's arms. She wrapped it in a blanket and tried to tend to it and warm its feet. She screamed at us as soon as we got close. She Claws sprouted from her fingers, and her teeth turned into tusks. She is an Albanara," trembled the druid. "Very powerful. No, we couldn't get close. So we called Dukes. They came and took the dead baby and put a sleeping spell on her. We left, and she escaped that night." "But why is there no record of any such thing?" demanded Lord Samuels, his face downcast.Joram stared at the druid, but there was no life in his eyes, like the stone baby. "Ah, there is a record!" Druid exclaimed angrily. "There is a record." Her claws were clenched into fists the size of a teaspoon. "While I was there, we've always had very complete records. Really complete. When we found out Anya was gone, Duke Xis took them all the next morning. Go ask them for your precious records. They I won't take you seriously, poor fellow." She looked at Joram pityingly, turned her head away, and held it high. "Then you are quite sure that this young man—" Lord Samuels nodded at Joram, and now there was more sorrow than anger in his eyes. "Stolen from the nursery?" "Are you sure? Yes, we're sure." The druid grinned, but she had no more teeth than a bird's. "Dukesis said what happened, and that makes us sure. Very sure indeed, my lord." "But didn't you count? Have children gone missing?" "Dukesi said yes." The old woman frowned and reiterated. "Dukesy said yes." "But you should check for yourself!" Lord Samuels asked again. "Poor fellow," was all Zeldalar said.She looked at Joram, her bean eyes were shining. "poor guy." "Shut up!" Joram stood up, shaking.He grimaced, blood gushing from the bite wound on his lower lip. "Shut up." He growled, glaring at Zelda angrily, causing her to retreat into the couch in fright, and Lord Samuels hurriedly stopped between them. "Come on, Joram," he said. "Calm down! Think about it! There are still many things that have not been clarified..." But Joram neither saw him nor heard what he said.The young man's head throbbed and throbbed, and he felt like he was about to explode.Dizzy, he hugged his head tightly and pulled his hair desperately. Seeing the bloody hair uprooted, seeing the madness in the young man's eyes, Lord Samuels wanted to lay his hands on Joram to appease him.But with a howl, Joram shook him off, almost knocking him to the ground. "Poor!" Joram gasped, he couldn't breathe. "Yes, have pity on me! I..." He struggled to breathe. "It's nothing!" He held his head tightly again and pulled his hair. "False! It's all lies! The living dead... dead..." He turned and staggered across the room, fumbling for the exit. "It won't work, young man. I've strengthened the spell. You have to stay and listen to me! All is not lost! Why would Duke Sis be interested in this? Let's find out more..." Lord Samuels stepped forward , may be considering casting a spell on Joe Lang. Joram ignored him.He felt for the door, and tried to open it, but, as Lord Samuels had said, the spell held it tight.He couldn't even stretch his hand through the invisible solid barrier, so he could only beat it angrily.He didn't think about it, he just knew he had to get out of this room before he suffocated.Joram drew the Dark Sword from behind and slashed at the door. The Dark Sword felt itself being swung, the life heat of its master throbbing through its metal limbs, and it began to absorb magic.Zeldalar began to scream and howl high-pitched, while Lord Samuels looked on in horror and horror, and then he felt weak and the life-force was sucked from him.The Darksword is not selective, its full potential has not been fully grasped by its forger, nor is it clear how to use it.It draws magic from everything and everyone around it to increase its power.The metal sword body glowed with a strange green glow, illuminating the entire room. The power of the sword extinguished the fire, and the dim light ball on the stove also flickered weakly and completely dissipated. Lord Samuels could not move.His body became heavy and strange, as if his soul had suddenly entered another person's body, and he didn't know how to make this body move.He stared at everything in a hazy terror, not understanding what was happening or how to react. The door fell to pieces at Joram's feet.Outside the door, amidst the green light of the scorching evil sword, stood Gwendelin. She had been eavesdropping on the door with her ear pressed to the door, with sweet, lilting fantasies racing through her mind, planning how she would be surprised when Joram rushed out to tell her the good news.But one after another the ethereal visions sprouted demonic wings, and their dance became eerie.The stone fetus, the poor mad mother tending the cold and stiff corpse, the dark shadow of Duke Xis, Anya fleeing into the night with the stolen child... Gwendelyn backed away in fright, avoiding the closed and magically locked door.She covered her mouth with her hand, for fear that she would cry out and be discovered.Horror crept through her soul at what she had heard, like a stinking torrent rising from a rushing flood.She has been carefully cared for all her life, and she is only vaguely aware of such things as a child, and such things as having children are never mentioned.But her inner femininity responded.The instinct that lasted for thousands of years allowed her to understand the pain and mourning, the loneliness, sadness and sorrow, and even the madness—like the twilight of a star in the vast night sky, she could Bring comfort. Gwendelyn heard Joram's cries of pain, and she recognized his rage and anger.The girl in her wanted to run away, but the mature woman stayed behind.This was the woman Joram had seen when he opened the door.He glared at her with a sullen face, the sword still in his hand.The sword light was sharp and dazzling, and its light was reflected in the pair of blue eyes looking at him, but her face was as dark as dead gray. He knew she had heard it all, and a sudden rush of relief made his whole body lighten up.He could see terror in her eyes.Then there will be pity, and then loathing.He can't escape.In fact he was going to urge her to do it.It was much easier to hate her wholeheartedly.He will sink into the darkness with relief, knowing that he will never be able to get out of it again. "Then, miss," he whispered, his tone as sharp as the light of a sword. "You know. You know that I am nothing but a nobody." Joram raised his face sullenly, raised the Dark Sword, and watched its light burn in the wide-open eyes of the woman in the hall. "You once said that no matter who I am, it won't affect your feelings, Gwendelyn. You will love me and follow me." He slowly put the Dark Sword into his left hand and stretched it out towards her right hand. "Then come with me." He sneered. "Or, your words are the same as other people's words, but lies?" what will she doHe said this arrogantly, instigating her to reject him.But Ge Wen saw through these words, she saw the pain and distress in his eyes.She knew that if she rejected him and turned her back on him, he would walk into the desert of despair and sink under the quicksand.He needed her as his sword longed to suck the magic of the world, so his heart longed to drink all the love she could give. "No, it's not a lie." She said calmly and calmly. She reached out and took him.Joram stared at her in astonishment, struggling in his heart.For a moment he wanted to get rid of her.But she held his hand tightly, with a look of unwavering love and determination in her eyes. Joram lowered the Darksword.He held Gwen's hand, lowered his head and began to cry—the bitter sobbing seemed to tear his body apart, split him in two.Ge Wen gently put her arms around him, hugged him tightly, and comforted him like a child. "Come on, we have to go," she said softly. "It's too dangerous for you here now." Joram clung to her.Lost and wandering in the darkness of his heart, he doesn't know where he is and doesn't care about his safety.If it weren't for her arms to support him, he might have slipped and fell to the ground. "Let's go!" she urged softly. He nodded blankly.He took staggering steps to follow behind her. "Gwendoline! No! My child!" Lord Samuels called to her, begging her to come back.He was desperate to set off after him, but the dark sword had drained his life force.He could only stand and watch her leave helplessly. Gwendelin didn't look back at her father, but took her chosen lover and left.