Evil Dragon Chapter 26: Pigeons in Sight

Chapter 26: Pigeons in Sight

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: CaiCai, Kris

 

Lin Nuo picked up a gold coin and jumped from the round table to the high-backed armchair, nestling down on the cushion with the coin in hand.

Rennes had already left. Lin Nuo glanced at the wall clock – it was 11 pm. He rolled around in the armchair, contemplating whether to jump down and take a stroll around the room. After considering the possibility of not being able to climb back up once he had jumped down, Lin Nuo suppressed the impulse to explore the knight’s room.

Better to just wait obediently, he thought. At that moment, Lin Nuo distinctly heard rhythmic tapping coming from the window seat.

*Tap, tap, tap*

Is that a woodpecker? Lin Nuo wondered.

Then, he heard a faint voice from outside the window calling, “Young Master!”

Lin Nuo’s tail was about to stand on end. Without thinking about the possibility of returning to the chair, he leapt to the carpet, then ran and jumped toward the window seat, climbing up along the curtains. Sure enough, outside the window, there was a chubby goblin riding an equally plump pigeon!

This sight left Lin Nuo a bit dizzy. He poked his head out through the open part of the window and whispered, “Are you okay? Thank goodness.”

The goblin choked up a bit and said, “Thank you for your concern, Young Master! This all must have startled you because my magic wasn’t strong enough to turn back into a human in time.”

Lin Nuo hurriedly interrupted, “Ahem, speaking of which, why are you here? And what’s the deal with this pigeon?”

The goblin explained, “Young Master, I’ve been secretly following you ever since you got on the knight’s carriage, all the way here. When I saw the knight leave again, I thought of coming to pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” Lin Nuo was taken aback.

The goblin continued, “Yes, you mentioned wanting to return to the royal palace last time, so this time I brought the pigeon spirit along. Even though I suddenly can’t turn back into a human again, Martin can fly you to the gates of the royal city.”

“By the way, this pigeon is called Martin,” the goblin added.

Having heard this, Lin Nuo glanced at the wall clock again. It was 11:15 p.m. At this time, where in the world would Rennes be looking for the little prince, who would be impossible to find?

—

Meanwhile, Sir Rennes was galloping on horseback toward the Cathedral of the Supreme God in the eastern part of Faro City. He was indeed going to meet someone. It wasn’t the human form of Lin Nuo he was seeking, but rather, Bishop Zygfryd Vite.

The name of this bishop had been sent to him by Roy Clement ten minutes ago. This morning, after the young prince His Highness had gone missing, Rennes had contacted Roy to find out which church members Prince Otto had the closest contact with privately.

Unlike the icy and difficult to please Rennes Clement, Roy was a sunny youth who always had a smile on his face. Furthermore, he was naturally inclined toward socializing and didn’t reject the flattery among aristocrats. Roy had a keen interest in court games like billiards, cards, dramas, & dances and was eager to try them. As a result, those who couldn’t please Rennes would often flock around Roy, attempting to curve the line.

So, Roy’s popularity within the court could be said to be very good. Roy could get ahold of many court secrets and unknown insider news in no time. Most of the time, Rennes wasn’t interested in such information. To actively ask Roy to investigate something was a rare occurrence. So, Roy, with great effort, spent the entire day trying to find out everything he could. He finally discovered that Prince Otto had visited Bishop Zygfryd Vite in the eastern part of the city several times.

Rennes had thought that after giving Otto a good beating over the informant planted next to Lin Nuo, Otto would have some restraint. He didn’t expect this audacious person to dare to drug Lin Nuo again.

Apart from being surprised by Otto’s audacity, there was one thing that concerned him a lot. He was almost always with Lin Nuo. He had checked all of Lin Nuo’s attendants; there shouldn’t have been any more of Otto’s informants among them. So, how did Otto manage to drug Lin Nuo again?

Although Rennes had pressured Otto into revealing his deeds, due to identity restrictions and the royal covenant, he couldn’t directly eliminate him, at least for the time being. Hence, Rennes decided to first chop off this shadowy hand that kept providing props to Otto.

A moment later, the distinctive silhouette of the cathedral’s roof came into Rennes’s view. He rode a bit farther, then halted his black steed, quickly dismounting, and with determined strides, headed toward the cathedral’s main entrance. He didn’t bother going around to the back entrance of the church; there was no need for that.

According to the rules of the Supreme God’s Cathedral, the church was open 24 hours, and anyone needing divine confession or sanctuary could enter at any time. The knight shrouded in an aura of danger was evidently not there to seek refuge.

Like any other Cathedral of the Supreme God, the grand hall had a very high vaulted ceiling, and the floor was polished to a shine. Dozens of chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the hall brightly. Day and night, they cast a majestic glow on the solemn murals around the walls. To the right of the grand hall, there stood a massive organ that occupied several dozen square meters of space, rising several stories high. This organ would probably require dozens of people to pump air into it without magical interference. Once infused with magic, any priest could play rich harmonies on it alone.

Currently, a middle-aged man in a church robe was sitting in front of the organ, playing it with closed eyes. With hair streaked in gray, a face of kindness, and a perpetual compassionate smile, it was none other than Bishop Zygfryd Vite, loved by the churchgoers of the capital’s parish.

Zygfryd Vite’s ten fingers danced nimbly across the black and white keys, his head swaying in rhythm with the music. The grand hall echoed with the grandeur of the organ’s melody. As the music changed its tempo, Rennes also altered his pace. His once large strides gradually slowed, synchronizing with the rhythm, as he walked towards the organ.

When Rennes reached the organ, Bishop Zygfryd Vite pressed the keys with a heavy final chord, then slowly raised his head, turning his face to Rennes and asked, “Sir Clement, who never prays to the gods, has unexpectedly come to this closest place to God. May I ask, what help are you seeking from Him?”

Rennes stared at the fearless bishop, his mouth twitching slightly, as if about to speak. He immediately discovered that he seemed unable to say a single word. After noticing this, Rennes quickly reached for his waist, intending to draw his sword. His hand froze at his belt and couldn’t move an inch.

At this moment, the usually composed paladin, for the first time, showed a hint of suspicion in his eyes. His handsome and delicate face bore a trace of anger.

“Oh my,” Bishop Vite remained seated, only turning his body with a smile that could be called benevolent as he looked at Rennes. “It seems you’re feeling a bit unwell. Have you perhaps realized you can’t speak at the moment?”

Rennes frowned, staring coldly at the man. Vite pressed a key on the piano again, producing a dull bass note that echoed through the hall. “Your Excellency, someone was inquiring about me throughout the palace today. I guessed that perhaps you had something to discuss with me. Your Excellency has never been one for easy conversation… Oh, the nobleman who conversed with you last time, our young prince’s attendant. What was his name? Baron Duval? I wonder where he’s decomposing now. So, I was quite panicked and, naturally, made some preparations.” Vite’s tone was almost humble, but his words carried an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

Vite slowly stood, gazing towards the towering statue of the Supreme God deep in the hall, assuming a posture of devout prayer. “Knowing Your Excellency’s proficiency in magic, I sought divine help and set up a small magic circle here, for my own protection. The music just now was the key to activating this magic circle. Now, you have no trace of magic left in you. Additionally, you’ll experience temporary paralysis and loss of muscle control —But oh, you’re still standing there, not collapsing. Impressive. Truly a well-trained knight, never compromising dignity.”

Surprisingly, admiration filled Vite’s face, while Rennes swayed slightly, his breath growing heavy.

“Well, now that Sir Clement cannot wield magic or swing his sword, I can comfortably converse with you,” Vite smiled openly. He played a short melody again. After the echoes completely faded away, he said, “Your Excellency, you can speak now.”

Pale-faced, Rennes struggled to force out a sentence, “What poison did you give to Linno?”

Vite sincerely replied, “Your Excellency, strictly speaking, it can’t be called poison. It merely further disintegrates the mark that’s already crumbling within the prince. If left untreated, His Highness will merely be weaker than the average person, at most confined to bed without the ability to walk. There’s no threat to his life.”

Rennes’ temples twitched, managing to squeeze out two more words, “Why him?”

Vite wasn’t surprised by Rennes’ question and calmly responded, “Your Excellency, don’t you think Prince Otto is a particularly suitable heir for the family? You see, Prince Otto is impulsive, reckless, and possesses a thin magical essence, making him extremely manipulable— Your family has long been labeled as the ‘invisible royal lineage’. The Heinrich family, as the royal family, feeds off yours without any repercussions. Moreover, almost every head of your family has died tragically while protecting the royal family— The Clement family’s achievements ultimately end up as mere support for the Heinrichs. As the youngest and most powerful new head of the Clement family, are you truly content with this? Are you truly willing to sacrifice your life for this foolish Heinrich family? Of course, I understand that you’re bound by the royal contract and cannot betray the monarchy. But why not choose the most easily manageable heir?”

Vite wore an expression of genuine concern on his face, deeply sympathizing with Rennes’ supposed reluctance. Rennes stared at Vite for a while before saying, “The Church aims to manipulate the royal family, or am I mistaken?”

Vite, candidly, replied, “Your Excellency, the Church merely seeks cooperation from you to share victory together.” Then, Vite lowered his eyelids, assuming a submissive posture. “Your Excellency, understand that the Church is the true representative of the Supreme God. Although the old king hasn’t explicitly restricted us, he also hasn’t been willing to firmly establish our position. This separation of divine power and royal authority has long been a shackle on Saros’s progress. All we want is to break free from this shackle.”

The suspicion in Rennes’ eyes gradually dissipated, returning to his usual calm demeanor. He slowly said, “Oh, it seems the Church has left me no choice.”

Vite, with an air of humility, said, “Your Excellency, if you and Prince Otto together swear to become servants of the Supreme God, it will certainly be the most fitting course of action in accordance with the divine will.”

Rennes sighed, “What a pity.”

Vite paused for two seconds and inquired, “A pity?”

What’s the pity? Is this Clement’s mind starting to deteriorate?

Shaking his head, Rennes said, “A pity that I thought, as one of the high bishops of the Church of the Supreme God, you would reveal any useful information. I didn’t expect such a boring reason.”

A hint of fear flashed in Vite’s eyes. He attempted to rise from the piano bench but cried out and fell back. It seemed as though a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on his shoulders, rendering him unable to straighten up.

“Speaking of which, Bishop Vite’s musical skills are indeed impressive. Why not play one last piece for yourself?” Rennes said coldly.

Then, to Vite’s horror, his hands pressed the piano keys, involuntarily starting to play. The solemn and dignified music echoed through the hall like a stampede of horses. Each note felt like a sharp knife slicing through him; each emphasis felt like a heavy hammer striking his skull.

As he played, Vite screamed desperately, “No! Stop! This can’t be! What have you done, devil?”

Rennes, with ease, drew out his shining sword, placing it near Vite’s neck, saying coldly, “Knights of Clement never step into battle unprepared. The magic circle you initiated through music was altered by me the moment I entered. I’ll grant you a choice for being so forthcoming: either be drained of magic and turn into a puddle or die honorably by my sword.”

Vite gasped, teeth chattering, blood trickling from his lips, tremblingly said, “You—you—this is a church! You cannot kill a servant of God in the church! It’s forbidden by God!”

Upon hearing Vite’s words, Rennes elegantly smiled, “And why not? This is the ‘closest place to God,’ right? You’ll serve Him even better later, won’t you?”

As he spoke, the razor-sharp blade had already left a bloodstain on the wrinkled skin of Vite’s neck. These words shattered the last hope in Bishop Vite’s heart completely. He wept bitterly, his voice breaking like a damaged bellows, “No! No! Help!”

Just as Rennes, with a blank expression, was about to swing the blade, the heavy doors of the church swung open with a loud bang.

“Sir Clement! Please stop!” A man in a red robe hurriedly rushed in.

Rennes hesitated, turning to face this person breaking through the magic circle.

“Sir Clement!” The man in red held up a radiant ring and said, “I bring the Pope’s orders!”

Breathless, the man approached Rennes, saying, “The Pope, upon learning of Vite’s actions, was deeply shocked. He requests Sir Clement hand over this audacious rebel to the Church for judgment and not sully Sir’s sacred sword.”

Rennes gazed at the unique and highly recognizable papal ring in the man’s hand, sneering, “Ah, the esteemed Pope arrives just in time. Only now do you understand what your subordinates are up to?”

Bowing deeply, the man in red said, “The Pope expresses deep apologies for his negligence towards you. Furthermore, he reminds Sir not to delay the ‘sword bestowal ceremony’ a year from now just because of this arrogant man. After all, only under the Pope’s guidance can the final ritual between the prince and you be completed, confirming the continuation of the blood pact between the Clement and Heinrich families.”

Hearing what the man in red said, Rennes raised an eyebrow, lips turning downwards, his face growing gloomy. He slowly wiped his sword and said, “In that case, please let the Pope take care of the Church’s affairs properly. Otherwise, I don’t mind taking charge.”

The man in red bowed even deeper, saying, “Thank you, Sir Clement!”

Rennes sheathed his sword and walked out of the brightly lit hall, not sparing a glance at the two men.

Behind him, Bishop Vite collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face. He clutched at the edge of the red-robed man’s attire, saying, “You finally arrived! I thought I would really die under his sword! This generation of Clements is mad! Utterly mad!”

With a disgusted expression, the man in red pulled his robe away, saying, “You’ve said what needed to be said, haven’t you?”

Vite crawled a few steps forward, attempting to grab the man’s leg, saying, “Of course! I said everything exactly as you taught me!”

The man in red wore a peculiar smile and murmured, “Very good, very good. It wasn’t in vain that the Pope invested in you…”

Upon hearing this, Vite’s face lit up with joy, about to look up—

With a loud bang, the man in red’s fingers pressed on Vite’s forehead. Within five seconds, the bishop turned into a desiccated corpse, still bearing the ridiculous expression of immense joy and sorrow on his face. The man in red withdrew his hand, not even sparing a glance at the corpse. He merely looked at the closed heavy doors, muttering to himself, “Exactly as the Pope predicted… Even if the mark inside the boy has shattered, Clement would still choose this path…”

—

At 2 am, Rennes dismounted in front of his mansion. The elderly butler with graying temples approached, looking at Rennes with concern. He said, “Master, your complexion doesn’t look good.”

Rennes cleared his throat and said, “I’m fine. Have there been any unusual people or strange creatures around while I was out?”

The old butler shook his head and said, “No one has come. I saw a pigeon flying around outside your room for a while, and then it flew away.”

Frowning, Rennes quickly ascended the stairs. The few steps he took didn’t seem effortless.

Zygfryd Vite’s position as the Archbishop of the Church of the Supreme God meant he wasn’t a pushover. Rewriting his magic circle hadn’t been a simple task. Even with precautions, Rennes had been hit head-on by the strange magical notes when he had entered the church. He had immediately felt a bloody sweetness in his throat.

Fortunately, after a few notes, Rennes had found the core of the magic circle and quickly rewritten it, enabling him to complete the backlash at the end. On the way back, he had used a considerable amount of healing powder, barely managing to return to the mansion. Now home, he should check his wounds, change the healing powder, and replenish his magic power. He did none of that, just endured the pain in order to quickly ascend the stairs and reach the door to his room. 

As he was about to push the door open, for some reason, he hesitated. Collecting himself, he took a deep breath and finally pushed open the door, looking into the bedroom. Four gold coins were scattered on the small table. Another gold coin lay on the seat of the chair. But the foolish little guy was nowhere to be seen. 

In the room, there was also no sound of the little fellow’s chatter. So… it ran away again? Rennes, whose complexion was already pale, looked even more displeased. He walked slowly into the room, his expression constantly shifting. At that moment, the curtain hanging by the bay window moved, and the window made a creaking sound.

A small figure squeezed in through the window crack and peeked its little head out from behind the curtain, making a *chirp* at Rennes. Only then did Rennes slowly take off his black cloak and remove his gloves, placing them aside. He squatted down, facing Lin Nuo, and said, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Lin Nuo made another chirp sound, meaning, ‘It’s cool outside.’

Rennes hid a smile in his eyes and extended his hand towards Lin Nuo, as if inviting the little guy to come over, perhaps for a little cuddle.

Lin Nuo stayed behind the curtain, watching Rennes with a vigilant look, sniffed, and made dissatisfied chirps, ‘Why does the air smell like blood? Where did you go?’

After Lin Nuo finished chirping, Rennes seemed to lose interest in him. He stood up, retrieved his hand, and even tapped on the round table with his fingers, saying, “Go to sleep quickly. Otherwise, you’ll never grow up, and crows might eat you.”

Having said that, he turned and went into the bathroom.

Lin Nuo bit his paw, thinking indignantly, What do you mean not growing up? If I had known you would insult me, I wouldn’t have waited for you to come back!

 

 

 

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