Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 382 It’s Over

Inside the Earl of Hall's villa in Backlund, Queens.

The elegant Countess Hall entered Audrey's bedroom, where her daughter, who had been waiting for a long time, immediately stood up to greet her.

"Mom! How is she?"

Audrey asked eagerly.

“Your father is still in the palace, but he sent a servant back with the news,” the Countess replied. “The situation is now under control, but unfortunately, tens of thousands have still died in the East District.”

Tens of thousands of people.
Audrey opened her mouth slightly, then unconsciously pursed it tightly.

Behind each of these enormous numbers lies a real human life, like that of Cons.
"Audrey, you did a good job."

The Countess noticed the subtle change in her daughter's expression and immediately smiled gently. She took a step forward and took her hand. "If it weren't for you, the situation wouldn't have been brought under control so quickly, and many more people would have died. You saved so many people; all of Backlund should thank you!"

No, it was the followers of Mr. Fool who truly discovered the problem; I merely relayed the information.

Feeling the warmth of her mother's hand and sensing the self-regulating ability of a "mind reader," Audrey quickly calmed down. This wasn't self-deprecation, but an objective fact. However, her ability to serve as a reliable source, rapidly transmitting information to the three major churches, was also an advantage.

The fact that Mr. Fool specifically chose me to tell him this secret shows that he has expectations for me.
If stopping Duke Negan's assassination attempt brought Audrey only a sense of accomplishment, these recent events have given her more complex feelings. She has truly witnessed the dangers of the extraordinary world, but she also feels a heavy responsibility. Her efforts may very well save many lives!

I deserve a promotion!
At first, Audrey became an extraordinary person simply out of interest. Now, she has a much more serious goal.

When we meet again for the next tarot reading, let's continue seeking the main material for "The Psychologist".
She helped her mother out of the bedroom, thinking to herself at the same time.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Nighttime, East District.

Lu Ze walked down the street with a blank expression.

He witnessed everything that happened in the East District with his own eyes.

"Rumble"

Heavy carriages passed by him from time to time. The carriages carrying corpses had large cargo beds, with the bodies piled high in body bags like cargo. The driver's eyes were bloodshot, his mouth covered with a white cloth, and he whipped the horses until they neighed incessantly, their hooves slipping on the wet, cold ground, making it difficult for them to move forward.

The wagons carrying the wounded carried fewer horses and ran faster, their enclosed compartments filled with the sounds of coughing, some of which gradually subsided before they even reached the treatment area.

Lu Ze followed the direction of the carriages to their destination.

May you rest in peace, and journey to the land of storms and lightning.

An exhausted and numb old priest roughly scratched his chest as he performed a requiem ritual on batch after batch of corpses in front of him.

Behind him, corpses piled up like mountains.

In this world of extraordinary beings, if corpses are not properly "sent to their spirits" in time, it could have dire consequences. Faced with thousands upon thousands of dead, the clergy are forced to repeat the rituals relentlessly, pushing them to the brink of collapse.

"Don't do it here! Our family believes in Goddess."

Get out of my way! I don't have time for you right now!

Family members of the deceased cried out and tried to stop them, but were violently shoved aside by others. Everyone's face was filled with hostility, and everyone was utterly exhausted.

"Dead, all dead!"

A young man sat on the ground howling, "Covent Street, I'm the only one left alive!"

Next to the requiem ceremony was the cremation site, where a huge furnace burned with a golden-red light, flames roaring. Thick black smoke billowed up the chimney, and from the air, the entire eastern district was ablaze with tiny sparks of fire.

This eastern district, which usually plunges into darkness at night, is brightly lit for the first time.

"Fortunately, the Steam Church helped us, otherwise we really wouldn't have been able to build so many crematoriums so quickly."

An unnamed official extraordinary being stared blankly at the fire and said, "Tell me, why didn't they mark the triangular emblem on the product this time?"

"It's better not to label it at all; what's so great about that?"

"The other person replied. The cremated ashes were placed in a simple box and temporarily piled aside, awaiting unified burial."

Lu Ze watched all this silently, a buzzing in his ears, as if distant sounds were echoing:
"By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground."

For for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

He ignored the voice and turned to continue walking forward.

"Herbal medicine? We're out of herbs!"

"Sir, please save my child!"

"Make way, make way!"

He walked to a church belonging to the Church of Goddess and saw the wounded lying on straw mats, stretching from inside the church all the way outside. The noise was deafening, as chaotic as ten markets. Countless people were busy treating the sick. Among them were clergy, healthy residents of the eastern district, and those with mild infections.

Lu Ze's eyes narrowed.

He spotted Emily, the landlady, among the busy medical staff. She was carefully feeding a patient medication. Suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, she looked up across the street, only to see an empty space.
Lu Ze continued walking forward, his eyes growing increasingly red.

The sky above was filled with the cries of countless dead, the lingering traces of their most extreme emotions and souls after a crude exorcism. Ordinary people without spiritual vision couldn't see it, and even ordinary extraordinary beings could hardly perceive it; only he, the shepherd most sensitive to suffering, knew.

The lingering, desperate souls of tens of thousands of the dead cry out in this world where no one cares about them.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sodrac Palace, Queens.

The magnificent palace was brightly lit, as bright as day.

Earl Hall, the Prime Minister, and many other important figures from the kingdom arrived at the front hall, gathering in small groups and occasionally whispering amongst themselves. On the other side, the three major churches had also sent their representatives, who waited calmly.

"I really have to thank your family for their timely news."

Prime Minister Agushid Negan couldn't help but say to Earl Hall.

"this is nothing."

Earl Hall, not wanting to reveal his daughter's secret, simply shook his head.

He glanced instinctively at the other nobles and councilors and noticed that their faces showed no sadness over the tragedy, but rather an eagerness to try. He couldn't help but sigh.

As a seasoned political strategist, Earl Hall knew exactly what these people were thinking. They were simply using this opportunity to challenge the royal family and gain more benefits.

After all, the disaster was ultimately confined to the East District, and only some poor people died. They wouldn't care.

Just then, he noticed that the back door of the front hall opened and the Earl of the Palace hurriedly walked in.

"What did your Majesty say?"

Earl Hall and the others crowded around and asked.

"His Majesty says that Prince Edsak has been seduced by a witch and intends to rebel."

The Earl of the Palace, sweat beading on his forehead, spoke tremulously.

Everyone looked astonished.

Following this, the Earl of the Palace presented George III with a compensation plan: new seats in the House of Lords and new election rules, the passage of a bill on air pollution, a guarantee of minimum working hours, reform of the Poor Law, and permission for the three major churches to enter the army.
The crowd erupted in uproar, and even the aloof clergy were slightly moved.

This is even better than the best conditions they wanted!
The king has truly made a huge compromise this time!

"it's over"

Earl Hall sighed inwardly, knowing that the people in the palace had been fed and no one would pursue the deaths of the poor anymore.

A sense of relief, exhaustion, and irony washed over the political elite at the same time, leaving him momentarily at a loss for how to respond.

(End of this chapter)