A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 294 Three Groups of Guests

Human supremacy is a hallmark of the old empire and the Church of Order, and one must experience it.

Freddie wanted to ask more questions, but the black monk remained silent, repeating phrases like "I'm not telling you for your own good" and "Knowing too much will only lead to bad consequences."

Since that was the case, Rorschach stopped pursuing the past. He was more interested in knowing about Caroline's connection to the underground cult.

"Do you know the Marquis and his court mage?"

"Of course I've heard about it. In fact, I've always found this matter strange." He frowned. "You know, in the Shadowlands, within his territory, that is, the entire Shadow City, the Marquis's strength is no less than that of an Archmage."

Rorschach wasn't particularly surprised by this. In this strange place, it was impossible to maintain one's position as a lord without some strength. Count Elgin, who was just sitting idly by, was an exception.

Of course, the semi-submersible area is just a beginner's village enclosed by a few subway stations.

The monk continued to inform Luo Xia of the information: "Therefore, to become his court mage, one should at least be commensurate with his strength, but I did not sense any 'important person' coming from the shadows. The mage was a woman, but I do not know any further details."

Rorschach wanted to know more about the Marquis, and the monk answered all his questions: "He came to the Shadowlands a hundred years ago to establish his rule. For the ruler, the Shadowlands is an ideal paradise, and his decrees, once recognized by the Shadowlands, can be materialized into inviolable rules."

"However, there are always exceptions." As he said this, the black monk stared intently at Luo Xia: "The invasion of the Earth Order has changed the stable status quo. The Marquis is a strong man, and he will never allow believers to appear under his rule. At least in the core area, no one can believe in 'Earth'."

"His criminal law is very straightforward, superficial, and efficient, believing that deterrence is the main means of maintaining public order. I'm sure you've all witnessed the masterpieces of this 'terrorist king' at the crossroads."

Does being tough mean stringing together lawbreakers as road signs? Although Rorschach thought this marquis was probably good at intimidating his subjects, in the current climate of the underground cult, it was better than the slacking-off earl.

"If you are caught by the Marquis, do not mention my name. Even if the Marquis is a respectable nobleman, and I have some influence with him."

"I understand. If I get into trouble, I'll come to you for protection." Rorschach made a mental note of this.

Besides the Marquis himself, the Black Monk also shared his knowledge of the Shadowlands.

The Shadow Land is a place of remnants and boundaries; it is not only the intersection of reality and illusion, but also a mixture of the remnants of many forces.

"It's just a symbolic puddle, where 'rainwater' that should have evaporated in reality gathers and mixes together."

The emphasis on rules here seems to reflect the style of an order-governing authority, but one would never find anything glorious or righteous here; it is filled with an eeriness.

The church and the black monks are remnants of the power of Is. In addition, the boundary between life and death seems to be blurred here, and there are magical microorganisms that can be used to manipulate magic and are absolutely invisible to the outside world.

It was indeed a "muddy pool," and the underground cult was trying to fish in the muddy waters.

The black monk provided the group with clean water and dry but clean bread, which, while not tasty, was at least not as "complicated" as the questionable food in the market.

After the "hospitality" was over, the black monk saw off the four rather impolite guests.

"Don't we need to climb up the tower?" It was pitch black outside the main hall windows. Even with his Dark Vision, Rorschach could only make out the jagged stalactites and stalagmites, and couldn't tell whether the church was still upside down.

"Just go out from the main hall."

They left through the main entrance, only to find that the "Upside-Down Church" had been completely turned right-side up, and stepping out onto what used to be Harold Avenue.

"I suggest you don't go back the way you came. If you're looking for the Marquis, just turn right after you leave. If you encounter the shepherd, be extremely careful. Don't resort to violence like before. Even underground, it's not a lawless place. Outsiders must be cautious."

After the black monk finished his rambling, he watched Rorschach and his group leave. As they disappeared into the mist, and Rorschach and the others could no longer see the church, the sound of stones colliding rang out. The stalactites, stalagmites, and the building itself seemed to come alive and rearrange themselves. When it quieted down, the "Upside-Down Church" lived up to its name once again.

"We'll have to rearrange everything again." The monk sighed. His black hair had grown back quite a bit, and he had more tendrils under his robes. Several of them emerged as he began to gather the scattered planks.

He slowly walked towards the other rooms. To the side and behind the podium in the main hall, in a small room, there was a map, a small doll, an extinguished candle, and other items scattered around.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of occultism would realize that this was a disrupted ritual site.

That map was far more detailed than the one the Earl had given Rorschach. Even the intricate network of pipes between the semi-submersible zone and the core zone was clearly marked. What was amazing was that when an observer first saw the core zone and the surface of the other areas, a deeper structure would be revealed when staring at a certain spot.

On this surface, at the intersection marked "Harold Avenue," there is a small wax dot, which corresponds to the location of the sewer manhole that Rorschach and his group crawled out of.

The old man tidied everything up and returned to his painting. With reverence and humility, he addressed the "golden man" in the painting, saying, "Everything is as you wished."

The "golden man" flickered.

The old man showed a joyful expression, but soon the sound of the broken bell rang out.

Another guest arrived. This time, the monk did not wait in the main hall, but went directly to the bell tower where the bell was rung.

"Where did the rope ladder go?" A new grappling hook appeared on the clock tower. The newcomer wore a peaked hat and had a bird with almost no feathers left, which was clipped to his head. He was the Marquis's messenger and messenger, and could also act as an executioner when necessary.

"Something unexpected happened."

"Alright, never mind all that, I'm here to read out the new arrest warrant."

"And which other extraordinary individuals have managed to escape the Marquis's laws? I can't wait to hear."

"Watch your attitude and dangerous words, monk!" He pulled out a stack of wanted posters, some with portraits, some without.

"Strange." The messenger discovered he was encountering something unusual, one rarely seen in his career—two blank sheets of printed paper were tucked inside the wanted poster: "This can't be, I checked it before I left!"

"Oh?" The black-clad monk subtly retracted his tentacles.

"Alright, it was my oversight." The other party tried to double-check, but the black-robed monk politely saw him off: "Sir, there are no suspicious people here. As you can see, it's just me now."

The messenger made what he thought was a funny joke: "You are the most suspicious person." There had indeed been many misunderstandings and conflicts between the marquis and the monk in the past, but now the two sides had eased up a lot and were no longer sharply opposed.

"It's a pleasure that Your Excellency, the Marquis, still possesses such keen intuition."

After the first guest left, another person came to the door.

"How lively!" The dark-skinned monk was taken aback. The newcomer was tall and thin, with a missing ear. He was an elf, and very likely had been a slave in the past.

"I am the court mage representing the Marquis. Have you seen a young man? He is a mage, and his hair color is..." The court mage's messenger was nervous and stammering.

The monk abruptly interrupted the question: "Tell your master that a young upstart is coming to visit."

"I have no master!" The elf's face flushed slightly, and he pulled up his hood in annoyance to take his leave.

(End of this chapter)