The Necromancer's Servant

After discussing how to report to the envoy with the villagers, Rodhart and Asa arrived at the small wooden cabin where the envoy was being held.

"Sir, Knight Rodhart pays his respects to you," Rodhart said as he entered the room, half-kneeling and performing the knightly salute, his tone rising and falling as if he were performing in a play.

The envoy was a middle-aged man with fair skin and a tidy appearance, exuding a refined yet weak nobility. Asa had often seen men like this during the nights in the royal capital, typically embracing women or sometimes being embraced by men, moving in and out of lavish carriages and brightly lit mansions. These men usually shared a common trait: even when their hands and feet were all over a woman's body, their expressions could remain as upright and serious as if they were carrying out official duties.

At that moment, the envoy seemed even more devout. He was kneeling in the middle of the small cabin, and praying with his eyes closed. It appeared that his captive status had not unsettled him. His clothes were still immaculate, and his demeanor was solemn and dignified, as if he were in a grand cathedral. He did not respond to Rodhart's words but remained focused on his prayers. Rodhart continued to kneel in silence. Asa stood at the door, looked at them with confusion.

Finally, the envoy slowly opened his eyes, seemingly having finished his prayer.

"We are here to rescue you," Rodhart said, still kneeling. He was completely taken aback by the envoy's composure. Remaining so calm and devout in prayer in such a situation demonstrated the strength of his faith and the greatness of his character. Truly, he had the demeanor of a significant figure.

"I know," the envoy said, looking at the kneeling Rodhart with the compassion of a prophet who knows all. "As a servant of God, I have always believed that I would not be harmed by those lowly brigands. God will surely come to rescue those who believe in Him."

He stood up and helped Rodhart to his feet, and said, "Sir, you are here by divine guidance. You must be a person of immense justice and a devout believer in God, right?"

Rodhart eagerly nodded, "Yes. I am prepared to dedicate my entire life to light and justice."

"How is the situation outside? Have you eliminated those brigands?" The envoy looked at him with the admiration of a hero.

"Well, the thing is…" Rodhart was excited but also awkward under the envoy's attention. "They are not brigands; they are…"

After listening to Rodhart's account, the envoy appeared surprised but soon regained his composure and nodded, saying, "Alright, regarding everything you mentioned, I will thoroughly investigate it once I return to the city."

"Thank you, Sir. You truly are as noble as a messenger of God in the eyes of the common people," Rodhart expressed his gratitude, nearly moved to tears.

"Of course," the envoy elegantly nodded, treating the praise with composure. "As His Majesty's envoy and a servant of God, I must do everything in my power to uphold justice. During my inspections, I have always been ruthless towards heretics who blaspheme and brigands who disrupt the peace of the Empire. However, if devout believers and law-abiding citizens have suffered injustice, I must also ensure they receive fairness."

"You are truly magnificent," Rodhart felt he had found his idol. "I will escort you back to the city immediately."

The envoy nodded as if agreeing to someone's request. Rodhart quickly bent at the waist, respectfully guiding him out of the cabin where he had been held. Throughout, the envoy did not spare a glance at Asa, who stood aside.

Outside, when the villagers saw the envoy had emerged, they collectively half-kneeled and offered their respects. This was strongly suggested by Rodhart, who thought that doing so would ensure their safe return home and allow them to continue their lives, making the villagers appear particularly respectful.

The envoy nodded in a manner befitting his status and demeanor, appearing as if it were only natural. He even smiled graciously, as if bestowing a favor.

Rodhart had already brought his horse over, prepared to help the envoy mount and then lead him back to the city.

All the villagers stood together watching as Rodhart and the envoy walked away. Thinking about the envoy's gracious smile, they felt a wave of excitement washed over them, and believed the future was brighter. They all believed that this envoy was truly a good person. Those who studied extensively often possessed a merciful heart.

For Asa, however, the whole situation felt completely baffling. But fortunately, the problem had been resolved. Now there were many people that are familiar with the forest. He first sought out the hunter, Levin, who was likely the most knowledgeable about this area. However, when he posed his questions, Levin shook his head with confusion.

Asa was nearly in despair. A sense of futile anger surged within him. If Christine were to appear before him, he would undoubtedly punch her square in the eyes, then scold her for being clueless while pretending to understand, and making things more complicated.

The key issue was that she was still carrying that book, following the merchant caravan designated by his father, and Asa had no idea where she had gone. He couldn't even consider finding someone else to translate. Now he felt so regretful about taking the silver coins from Christine. If he hadn't been so hasty and had taken the time to look for clues in the library, perhaps he would have found something.

Greed for money was the root of all evil. He recalled an old pastor from his hometown who often grumbled about this. Now, he felt an odd sense of agreement with those words.

"There's only the Turning Back Forest here, nothing like the Talking Forest you mentioned," a barely audible voice said nearby. Asa turned to see the old man who claimed he had never seen justice in his life.

The old man's toothless mouth let out a wheezy sound: "Deep in the southern part of this forest is a place called the Turning Back Forest. People see it and want to turn back; there's no Talking Forest."

Hunter Levin seemed to have been reminded and nodded, saying, "Right, I remember now. There is indeed a strange grove there; even wild beasts avoid going in, so I've never been there myself. But recently, I've noticed soldiers from the city using the grasslands outside that forest as a graveyard. Sometimes I see them burying bodies over there."

"What kind of forest is that?" Asa felt a hint of a clue and asked. "Why do people want to turn back when they see it? I never heard anything about it while I was in the city."

Levin shook his head, replying, "That forest gives people an uncomfortable feeling; the locals don't like to go near it. And that forest… it feels… it feels like…" He frowned, straining to find the right metaphor in his mind. Eventually, he shook his head, probably due to his limited vocabulary, unable to find suitable descriptors. "It's like… I don't know, just strange. It's something you don't even want to think about." Suddenly, he brightened up. "Right! It's like a really annoying person you can't do anything about, so you don't even want to think about them."

Asa frowned, repeating his words, "Like an annoying person? Not wanting to think about it?" This metaphor about the forest was difficult to grasp.

"Um… that feeling is…" Levin furrowed his brow again, lost in his sparse vocabulary as he searched for another metaphor. Asa, fearing he might make it even more confusing, quickly said, "It doesn't matter what it's like; just please take me there tomorrow."

"Brother Rodhart is back!" A child's voice called out from outside. The villagers rushed out to hear what he had brought back from the city.

Surrounded by the crowd, Rodhart looked as joyful as a child returning from a village competition, eager to share the news with everyone. "The envoy has said that tomorrow at noon, everyone is to gather at the grasslands east of the forest. He will come with the local officials to publicly announce a pardon for everyone's actions, and our taxes will be waived!"

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

"I told you there is justice in the world! How about that? Everyone believes it now, right?" Rodhart looked around, excitedly proclaiming the triumph of his beliefs. The villagers were lost in their joy, not paying much attention to what he said.

However, the old man who had spoken to Asa did not seem very happy, and he listened carefully to Rodhart's words. He shook his head, as if speaking to himself, muttering, "I've lived seventy years and never seen such a thing." He turned to Asa to emphasize, "Seventy years." Asa nodded eagerly.

"The Lost Woods are right in that place," the old man told Asa. His words were muffled and unclear, tinged with hesitation, as if a fortune-teller were explaining an ominous omen.