Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but Warhammer 40k

Derek's face darkened. Although his face wasn't fair to begin with, at least people could distinguish his face from his beard.

"quiet!"

He cleared his throat and began to read the verdict.

"The culprit, Henry."

"exist."

"The blacksmith's son."

"That's right."

"Pharmacist Apprentice".

"I was almost a full-fledged brewer, and I was also the champion of the brewing competition and the best brewer in town."

Derek's forehead vein throbbed.

Continue reading.

"According to a church survey."

"Seven days ago, during the brewing festival, you publicly promoted heretical ideas."

Do you acknowledge this?

Henry thought about it for a while, but he really couldn't figure it out.

"Which sentence specifically, Father?"

Derek looked down at the parchment scroll.

"Thank you, Lady Luck, for bestowing good fortune upon me."

"Father, you don't even know what the goddess of fortune is? Maybe there really is an angel called the goddess of fortune?"

"Shut up!" a furious shout interrupted Henry's rambling, Father Derek's beard trembling with rage.

  

Silent for a long time.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

After all, he was, in any case, a judge of the church, while the one on the stake was just a young man in his early twenties.

not to mention……

Derek's gaze fell on Henry.

He suddenly remembered many things.

The year old Henry died, this child stayed by his bedside and cried all night.

The old hunter at the east end of town broke his leg, and Henry took care of him for half a month on and off.

Two winters ago, heavy snow blocked the roads, and a farmer's child developed a high fever. Henry braved the wind and snow to deliver the medicine to him.

To be honest...

Aside from drinking, bragging, causing trouble, and spending all his time hanging around the miller's daughter, this kid doesn't seem to have done anything truly heinous.

Even in the eyes of many townspeople, he was considered a decent person.

Thinking of this, Derek couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, and his eyes filled with pity.

"Henry".

His voice was much softer than before.

"What is it, Father?"

"You are still young, and the mistakes you have made have not yet caused any real harm."

Derek looked at him and said slowly:

"Although you have gone astray and embarked on the path of blasphemy against the God-Emperor, the God-Emperor is merciful."

"The church is always willing to offer final care to lost sheep."

The laughter in the square gradually subsided.

Many townspeople looked at the high platform with some surprise.

Because they rarely saw Derek speak in that tone.

"so."

"As the judge, I will allow you to have a drink before you die."

Derek paused for a moment, then added:

"A truly fine wine, my wine."

"After you finish drinking it, you'll feel a little lighter when you walk."

"Perhaps the God-Emperor, after seeing the good deeds you did in your life, can forgive your mistakes and spare you from the harm of evil gods."

These words were spoken.

The crowd gasped in surprise, and even a few peasant soldiers looked on with envy.

For most residents of Baitouwo Town, a barrel of decent cider is already a luxury, let alone the fine wine treasured by the judge.

This is already a considerable privilege.

However, Henry, on the pyre, was somewhat embarrassed.

"Um... Father Derek"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid it's not necessary."

Derek frowned.

Why?

Henry chuckled twice.

"Because I already drank it last night."

"Have you had your drink?"

"I drank quite a lot."

He nodded honestly: "You know, the wine I brew is the best here, and I couldn't resist drinking it all."

"That's why I couldn't escape from your clutches."

A burst of laughter erupted in the square. Father Derek closed his eyes, realizing that his kindness had truly gone to waste.

Suddenly I felt my blood pressure rise.

"Besides drinking, what else did you do?"

"I was originally going to confess my feelings."

"To whom?"

"Salia."

Upon hearing the name, the crowd immediately stirred.

Salia, the miller's daughter, was a famously beautiful girl in town.

Long blonde hair, blue eyes.

Young and energetic, with a beautiful voice, countless young men dream of marrying her.

Derek was stunned, unsure of what to say.

"And the result?"

Some people in the audience couldn't wait to shout.

Did she say yes?

"yes!"

"Say it!"

"What happened next?"

The town's residents were visibly excited to hear such a bombshell before the trial.

Even the mischievous kid who stole spare change from the black bread stand was intrigued and looked over.

Faced with countless curious eyes, Henry sighed, as if overwhelmed with sorrow and unable to bear the past.

"She first asked me why I was in her room."

The crowd quieted down.

Then they asked me what I was going to do.

Everyone perked up their ears.

"Finally, they chased me out with a broom."

After a brief silence.

The entire square erupted in laughter.

Some people laughed so hard they bent over.

Some people were laughing so hard they kept slapping their thighs.

Even the peasant soldiers responsible for maintaining order turned their faces away, their shoulders twitching.

The originally solemn and dignified trial of heresy.

It had turned into a storytelling session in the tavern.

Henry saw everyone laughing, and he laughed too.

"Thank you all for coming. I, Henry, the blacksmith's son, also thank you for taking care of me over the years. I'll be leaving now."

Just as the laughter subsided, the butcher in charge of the execution slowly stepped out.

He looked at the young man on the stake.

After a long time, he finally let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Henry."

"I hope you can forgive me in hell, and may the God-King bless you, this lost soul."

Henry looked at the middle-aged man who had watched him grow up, and the smile on his face became somewhat awkward.

"This isn't your fault, uncle."

Henry looked up at the sky, where sunlight streamed through the clouds and a gentle breeze stirred the flags atop the church.

Everyone makes mistakes, but Lady Luck smiles on everyone.

The words had barely left his mouth when Henry cursed inwardly, wishing he could slap himself across the face.

It's one thing to be rude normally, but how come you still make this mistake when you're actually performing?

He had only intended to deliver a dignified and elegant last message at this poignant moment. But in a moment of impulsiveness, he brought up the very culprit who had brought about his death.

He tried to raise his hand to cover his unfortunate mouth, but he was tied to the stake. He wanted to explain...

But the sudden silence in the square made him unsure how to begin.

"Burn him!"

"heresy!"

"Don't let him continue spreading the curse of the evil god!"

"Burn him!"

The square, which had been filled with laughter and joy, was now like a fire on which a bucket of hot oil had been poured; anger and fear spread rapidly.

More and more people started shouting along.

The townspeople who had just been laughing heartily at Henry's jokes now turned pale, as if they had thought of something terrible.

The flames spread rapidly along the firewood soaked in kerosene.

A wave of intense heat hit us.

Even from a distance of more than ten steps, the townspeople watching were so hot from the heat that they kept backing away.

Henry, who was tied to the center of the pyre, also looked rather pale and was panting heavily.

Because this thing really hurts.

The intense heat traveled through the leather to his feet, causing him to gasp involuntarily.

"Oh shit……"

"It still hurts as expected."

Henry muttered a curse under his breath.

Although he had been telling himself to stay optimistic since last night, since things had already gotten as bad as they could possibly get, and he was likely to die at the hands of these ignorant townspeople.

But when the flames actually burn your body.

He couldn't help but feel a little regretful.

I should have had a couple more drinks; at least dying drunk is more comfortable than dying from being burned alive.

Thinking of this, Henry suddenly remembered last night.

I remembered the wine cellar in the basement of the pharmacy that I had converted into a laboratory.

I remembered the herbs, the still, and all sorts of bottles and jars that filled the table, as well as that bottle of strangely colored liquor.

Salvation Dry Wine.

This is a special medicine recorded in the systematic pharmacopoeia, and its formula is much more complicated than that of calendula preparation.

In order to gather all the materials.

Henry spent more than half a year going through all the trouble.

He failed more than ten times, blew up two distillers, and almost burned off his eyebrows. He was too ashamed to see his girlfriend.

It wasn't until a few days into the brewing festival that the first batch of samples was finally blended.

pity.

Before he even knew what use this potion, which he used to save his game account in his previous life, was here, he was sent to the stake.

"We're all going to die anyway."

"We can't waste it."

These were Henry's exact words, so he downed the entire bottle of Salvation Dry, which was almost worth half the price of a pharmacy.

As for the effect, the system only wrote one sentence.

Record your destiny.

Besides.

There was no explanation whatsoever. Henry cursed it for a long time, thinking the system was out of its mind, having such a grand name but being utterly useless.

In hindsight, it still didn't help much.

The flames drew closer, a burning sensation began to spread across my skin, and the scenery before me grew increasingly red.

The sky and earth were gloomy, and everyone's faces were contorted.

"Are you hallucinating because you're about to die?"

Henry grinned.

I tried hard not to scream.

Then he slowly closed his eyes.

"system."

"You better not screw me over."

"Otherwise, I'll come back and curse you even after I become a ghost."

next second.

The flames completely engulfed his body; Henry's body burned fiercely in the flames.

Just when everyone thought the trial was over.

Henry, surrounded by flames, suddenly disappeared.

It's like someone erasing a painting with an eraser.

It disappeared completely.

Only the empty ropes remained hanging on the stake.

Sway gently in the flame.

Then, the entire square fell into a deathly silence.