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Chapter 643



Chapter 643: Chapter 3

After a pleasant morning in Keane City, Sui Xiong ate lunch then set off for Viscount Hill of Samat.

He had no intention of meeting anyone from Keane Hill, nor did he intend to meet any of his followers—it would be a little awkward for him to do so given his current capacity. It was inappropriate for “Auscar, the Void Mask,” to interfere in such small matters, but “Crick Keane, the Holy Spirit,” on the other hand, was suitable to make an appearance in his capacity. However, doing so would do more harm than good.

Over the years, all the help that he had rendered Keane Hill stopped at the degree of being “friendly.” Other than secretly helping Anna, Stephen, and Romon to prepare some life-saving trump-cards, he did not do anything noticeable enough to arouse attention. In the case of Crick Keane being the Holy Spirit of the Void Mask, this relationship seemed a little unfamiliar.

However, there was nothing to be done. Many times, showing outright indifference was not necessarily something bad. On the contrary, being overly close might bring trouble.

If Crick was overly concerned about his loved ones and friends, while he could provide some convenience in small matters, it would also draw the attention of the truly strong and powerful enemies. Or it might even make them the targets of attack. In that case, they were at great risk.

As compared to the risk, the little conveniences were not worth mentioning. Having to shoulder such a great risk just to gain some small benefits would not be a wise move at all. So after thorough consideration, Sui Xiong finally decided to maintain a certain distance from them, so much to the extent of treating them with an aloof attitude, just to dispel thoughts that people should not be having.

If it could really hurt Crick’s feelings, his enemies would certainly attack Keane Hill, even if it were to cost them a hefty price. But since Crick himself was not very bothered, then it would be inappropriate to give the game away.

Frankly speaking, this was also a game.

Life was like a play, and it all depended on one’s acting skills.

It would require two days on horseback to get from Keane City, the capital of Keane Hill, to the Manor of Samat, the capital of Samat Hill if the ride was a special horse with an alarming amount of stamina due to its bloodline of a demon beast. As for walking, it would require four to five days.

This distance was the minimum limit for territories at the baron level. Anything lower than this limit would result in a relative lack of property, and more importantly, people’s safety could not be guaranteed.

Given this world’s level of technology, unless any side was willing to make use of magic communication props, it was practically at the level of “communication via roaring,” where even the method of sending a message via a flying pigeon did not exist. So in the event of a war, if there was not enough distance between territories, then the army would not take more than a day to reach the enemy’s ground. The side being attacked might not even have the time to gather its troops.

Of course, those who broke the rules would be punished, but how did that relate to the dead? So there must be a certain distance between the territories of two aristocrats. This was an unwavering rule.

Special horses would need to gallop for a good half a day. For Sui Xiong, it seemed to be nothing more than taking a leisurely stroll. After lunch, he left the city and in about ten minutes or slightly more, he reached the Manor of Samat.

Along the way, he did not use any means of flight or teleportation. He went there solely by foot, where every step was made with both feet on solid ground. And yet, there was also a difference from the ordinary way of walking. Every step that he took, the distance that he covered was equivalent to at least dozens, or even a hundred steps made by ordinary people, yet he did not seem like he was flashing about. Every step was firm and steady, yet light as though he were afloat. Even pedestrians traveling the same way on the same road did not sense anything amiss at all.

As to whether realization would hit them at some point in the future, and they learned of the wonderful spell called “Land Contraction Spell,” that would really depend on their own luck.

Unlike Keane City, the Manor of Samat was shabbier and more unsophisticated. It was originally the manor of a knight, but after Viscount Samat chose this place as the capital of his territory, he raised the old manor to be the core of the capital with the power of magic. Then he made some enhancements to this piece of raised land, where the inner city would be used for the lodging of the lords and officials and the surrounding area would be used for the residents’ accommodations and various architectures, thus forming the city’s outskirts. Beyond the city outskirts, there would be a solid wooden fence with a structure that would obstruct cavalry. Surrounding this fence was a trench of considerable width and depth. To prevent the breeding of mosquitoes, the trench was sprinkled with slaked lime. But there was no irrigation involved, and instead, drains were specially installed.

Overall, this manor might seem unsophisticated and boorish, yet in terms of floor area, layout planning or defensive ability, it was in fact, quite a good place. Other than lacking in appearance, it did not have any shortcomings.

There were two roads leading to the manor, and both involved suspension bridges. There were heavily armed soldiers guarding both sides of the bridge. Just by looking at their burly figures and ferocious looks, anyone could tell that these guards were by no means ordinary military soldiers. The cold light flashing in their eyes from time to time was more than enough to terrify many civilians. There were very few who would dare to crack jokes before them.

With black hair and black eyes, Sui Xiong’s appearance might be a little bit special, but he wasn’t treated unpleasantly. He claimed to be a traveler, paid the tax, then under the watchful eyes of the soldiers, he leisurely walked across the suspension bridge. There was no trace of nervousness in him at all.

“There seems to be something wrong with that fellow,” a soldier whispered. “He seems a little too calm!”

“He has done nothing guilty, so of course he is calm,” an old soldier by his side replied disapprovingly.

“But... the way he dresses, and he looks nothing like a traveler!”

“Precisely because he looks nothing like one, that’s why there isn’t a problem at all,” said the old soldier as he laughed. “If you were a spy, would you dress like him and then claim to be a traveler?”

“Of course not! That’s just like writing ‘I am suspicious’ all over my face.”

“That’s right! Don’t take others for fools,” said the old soldier amidst laughter. He patted that new recruit on the shoulder and said, “Daring to do so, either that person is a fool, or he must be a master who is very powerful. This guy doesn’t look like a fool, so of course, he belongs to the latter.”

“Is he a very powerful Master? Do I need to report that?”

“You think our captain can’t see that?”

“That’s true...”

That captain that they were referring to was one of the most important generals under Toon Samat’s command, Lande Tu.

This last name was strange because of its pronunciation or meaning. It was because its owner was no ordinary man, but a native from the Great Marsh—a half-dragon human.

The half-dragon humans were cold-blooded creatures with human-like torsos and heads with dragon horns, big mouths, and sharp teeth. Their bodies were covered with thick scales that could provide them with protection comparable to that provided by medium-sized or even heavy-duty armor. They had alarmingly strong bodies, even if they were not towering, but in terms of strength, they were strong enough to fight an average demon beast. Yet relatively speaking, their movements were not as agile, especially during cold weather, they would appear to be a little lazy and drowsy. If the climate got a tad colder, they would even go into hibernation.

In view of this, the half-dragon humans preferred activities in the South. The further south they were, the better it was. The Manor of Samat was south enough, so even though this Captain Lande might seem a little lacking in energy, at least he showed no intention of hibernating.

He stood in a mid-level room of the watchtower and peered out of the window, keeping his gaze on Sui Xiong who was walking leisurely on the street. His eyes were alert, yet gloomy.

“This man is not easy to deal with,” said his deputy, a paladin whose capability was close to a high level.

Lande nodded then spoke in a jerky discourse, “Get our soldiers to pay more attention to him but don’t bother him. So long as he doesn’t stir up trouble, we’ll just pretend we see nothing.”

This was a very popular practice. In the presence of masters whom they could not afford to provoke, soldiers in most territories would choose to do this.

Hearing Lande’s command, his deputy was taken aback and asked in surprise, “Is he that strong?”

“I’m just worried that I may have underestimated him,” Lande replied bitterly. “Though I can’t find any evidence, I still feel that he is very strong, super strong, stronger than what we could ever imagine... Anyway, we just need to be careful.”

Lande had a peculiar profession. He was neither a warrior, nor was he a paladin. He was a shaman—a spellcaster who came from the Desolation World. He was a special pontifex who indulged in the soul and spiritual strength.

Shamans were among the core of the Desolation society. They had a combination of various duties like those of mages, priests, doctors, and pontifex. They could communicate with ancestral spirits, gods, and elves from nature itself. Lande, being a shaman near to the advanced legendary peak, other than sporting some semblance to a Dark Mask and being a little unluckier, in terms of ability, he could almost be said to be perfect.

So there was a fleeting moment just then, where he vaguely felt that beneath the common appearance of a mortal, Sui Xiong was hiding an unfathomable power.

Admittedly, although he was usually quite unfortunate, when it came to key issues, he was still quite lucky.


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