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Undead Prosecutor
Chapter 11: The Pope's order

Chapter 11: The Pope's order

Walking through the narrow corridor among the densely packed tombstones always gave people a gloomy feeling. It seemed as though an invisible aura of death permeated the air, causing the already tepid sunlight to become even more chilling.

The common daisies found in the cemetery, those tiny white flowers that stubbornly occupied every inch of shaded space, are now hard to come by. Apparently, they were dug up and buried with the weeds during the recent strange disturbances.

"Master, have you found anything?" Detective Lime, who had accompanied William the wizard, asked in a relaxed tone, trying not to reveal his impatience to others.

In the past two years, there have been some mysterious and inexplicable cases like the Midnight Butcher, now the graveyard bones. These cases have whipped him so hard that he cannot stop and take a breath.

Even if it were the most heinous criminal, Inspector Lime believed that he could use his sword to subdue them. However, with cases like this that defied common sense and were intangible, he was completely at a loss.

"The Magic Peak is calm and shows no signs of having been used for arcane purposes," William replied. "Perhaps finding a divination wizard would be more effective. My area of expertise is enchantment and transformation, and I am not suitable for large-scale searches."

"Then, do you think it might be the work of some evil people who possess supernatural powers, such as the necromancers?" Detective Lime speculated.

William narrowed his eyes and stared at the detective for a while.

"Please believe me, if you have even a little knowledge of the arcane, I will not hesitate to punish you for insulting the dignity of arcane manipulators. Necromancy is just a branch of the numerous arcane schools, and it has no concept of good or evil.

Perhaps I should explain in more detail to prevent you from making such ridiculous deductions. A wizard apprentice can manipulate at most two skeletons, and even a master specializing in the necromantic arts can only control up to twenty skeletal servants, enabling the undead in an entire cemetery to temporarily regain their fleeting lives, maybe only a legendary necromancer as recorded in the annals of history can do so.

But a legendary wizard who is on par with a demigod and can destroy a city with just his mind, how could he be hiding in an old cemetery, inexplicably wasting precious media and magic, just to let the dead crawl out to catch a glimpse of the moon?"

"I apologize for what I said earlier," The detective placed his hand on his chest and made a knightly salute with an apologetic look. "Can the Master provide me with some advice and point me in the right direction through this fog?"

"The resurrection of the dead is not the exclusive patent of necromancy. In fact, the masters in this field are those bishops who stay in the church and pretend to pray. Divine magic has a unique advantage in the fields of the soul and healing. However, just as legendary wizards only exist in ancient records, priests who can perform great resurrection spells also only appear in legends.

In this world, there should be no one else who can perform resurrection, otherwise, he will be worshipped and adored by every monarch who loves life and desires immortality." William replied.

Although the detective did not fully understand the wizard's words, he understood that the culprit behind this case was definitely not something that a small city detective could confront.

If it were thirty years ago, when he was still a young man, he might have pledged to find the truth for the sake of knightly honor. But as people grow older, they increasingly refuse the call of the Grim Reaper. He did not want to become a tragic hero who tried to stop a dragon as a mere ant.

Thinking of this, the detective sighed helplessly.

On the other hand, William was very excited. For a wizard who was obsessed with arcane experiments, this inexplicable power that appeared and disappeared was undoubtedly an excellent research subject. Maybe he could find a clue to a legendary spell that had been lost in history from it.

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At the same time, in the innermost chapel of the Flondeck Cathedral...

The golden, winding pattern adorned the immaculate altar, depicting divine symbols. A large pile of loam and a few bones, taken from the Holy Cemetery, were stacked on the altar. Under the invocation of the spell, a halo of holy light emerged from the ashy soil, shining with sparkling particles.

Bishop Roland murmured a few words in a low voice. The incantation seemed to trigger a resonance of the halo, and in an instant, the entire altar was enveloped in a golden column of light. The golden particles of light diffracted in the small room, and the yellowed bones on the altar turned pink and translucent. The sticky bone membranes attached to them were even visible. It was hard to imagine that they had been buried underground for decades.

Even the Flondeck bishop, Egge, who was not well-versed in divine magic, could sense the immense power hidden within the halo.

The miracle lasted only a few seconds. When the scene inside the chapel returned to normal, Bishop Egge made the sign of the cross, trembling all over. He whispered in an almost faint voice, "To resurrect the dead and make life eternal, this is the power of the Eternal Reliquary. Praise be to the Seal of Light, the highest authority and will in this world."

"Now is not the time for praise," The red-robed bishop gasped for breath, grabbed a bone, snapped it, and watched a few drops of milky bone marrow slowly trickle out. "Report to the Holy See immediately. I need the full support of the Holy City. The remnants of Leo Angertes have actually learned to use the divine artifact."

After searching Flondeck for two full years, he finally found a trace of the stolen divine artifact. Roland vowed never to let it slip away again.

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In the third week after the beginning of summer, Albert received a large box of ordered herbs at the Golden Goose Tavern. The box was divided into twelve small compartments by thin wooden boards, and each material was safely and properly packaged. Even the fragile oyster shells were carefully wrapped in small pieces of lamb skin.

Arif, the great merchant who sailed on the Spice Route, indeed had outstanding qualities, as evidenced by his attitude and quality of service alone.

No wonder Flondeck's bankers claimed that with Arif's name alone, they could lend out 100,000 gold coins without any guarantee.

The only drawback was that the fee was too high.

Even with the not-so-low salary of a prosecutor, it was a bit painful to commission him to bring back a batch of herbal materials from the East.

Knowledge is indeed a luxury enjoyed only by the rich.

Albert couldn't help but think of Mr. William, the first court-honored wizard who attempted to create new transmutation spells. He guessed that the cost of each magical experiment could be a staggering amount that would shock ordinary people and curse the unfairness of the world.

Since meeting Mr. William at the wizard tower two years ago, Albert has always found time to help him complete experiments every weekend with the wizard's permission, and in return, he received some guidance in herbalism.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Thanks to William's guidance, for a transformation wizard who is proficient in alchemy, herbalism is just a basic subject of enlightenment. Occasionally, a few well-placed comments can greatly benefit Albert.

"The knowledge of herbs, minerals, biological anatomy, universal theory, and astrology constitutes the foundation of alchemy research. A treatise on herbs alone cannot achieve remarkable discoveries," the wizard said.

"Sir, this is just a hobby to pass the time and a way to help my elderly relative escape the torment of illness. Human energy is limited. Trying to understand the profound alchemy while also fighting vile criminals in court will only result in unsatisfactory outcomes for both," Albert replied.

"What a pity. Although you lack talent in the arcane arts, your mind is sharp and your thinking is agile. If you could set aside mundane matters, in less than ten years, you could become a dedicated laboratory assistant that every mage dreams of having. A well-coordinated assistant is worth more than several bags of precious magical materials," William lamented.

"My elder relative often suffers from joint pain, and the potion I'm currently making can only alleviate the pain. I've heard that some plants can treat such symptoms, but I'm not very familiar with these plants or their specific formulations," Albert asked.

William shook his head, "My knowledge of herbal medicine is limited to the combination of plants and magic. I am powerless in the field of medicine," The mage thought for a moment before saying, "According to records, there was once a tribe of witch doctors called shamans in the Orc kingdom on the Black Continent. Their understanding and application of plants far exceeded that of druids, and alchemy was the masterpiece of the shamans. However, the civilization and mysteries of the Orc kingdom were shattered in the war a hundred years ago."

"Alchemy? I really wish to witness it," Albert sighed.

With a substantial investment of money, the wisdom of his mentor, and the extensive collection of William, Albert rapidly expanded his knowledge. He was able to describe the characteristics and valuable components of hundreds of plants, and discovered several small formulas for the wonderful effects produced by the combination of different plants.

In the summer, there is a bug repellent that can repel mosquitoes cleanly, and a universal antidote that can suppress the toxicity of several poisonous snakes. Although they are not remarkable inventions, Albert finds them very useful.

He once said, "I always think that the true value of practical little things is not inferior to that of big discoveries. At least for someone who has been bitten by a poisonous snake, the anti-venom is more valuable than the astrological instrument that reveals the mysteries of the stars."

Albert also tries to sell his formulas to make up for the losses incurred from his research. However, the bug repellent is unpopular because of its faint but unpleasant smell, and the expensive cost of production. Those who can afford it would rather suffer from mosquito bites than become a laughing stock in high society due to the strange smell on their body.

The only person who appreciated it was William, who didn't mind the odd smell. In fact, when the wizard was completely engrossed in his experiments, the unpleasant odor emanating from his body was not just faint. "Oh, nothing is more uncomfortable than being bitten by a mosquito on the nose while meditating," William said as he held a bottle filled with the potion, looking very satisfied.

The antidote was quite popular, and in the end, a Markamor merchant bought the formula for 500 gold coins.

"In the desert of Markamor, there are many snakes that are the same golden color as the sand. These vicious death gods show no mercy to anyone who accidentally steps on them. I hope this will come in handy." The merchant was in a good mood.

Albert felt a sense of accomplishment and fantasized, "Perhaps, decades from now, when I retire, I can become an honorary professor at a university, not in the Law Department, but in the School of Pharmacy."

Pursuing knowledge is expensive, but it is always satisfying and fulfilling.

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It seems like not long ago, in the smoking room conversation, the young lady of the Leinshman family felt insulted by what was said and Albert hasn't spoken to her for two weeks since. They occasionally pass each other in the hallways of the First Court, but all she gives him is a cold stare.

However, since then, Penny no longer bothers him and doesn't use her influence to force him to do things he doesn't want to do. He can use the legal statutes to interrogate criminals without any favoritism, which makes the prosecutor feel very satisfied.

But Albert still feels a hint of unease.

As a young prosecutor, he did not want to bow his head and apologize or submit to someone who had insulted his beloved and trampled on his moral and ethical values.

"Can I really use the law, which should be just and fair, as a tool to advance my career while ignoring my conscience?" Albert thought.

His social experience also told him that offending a high-ranking nobleman usually didn't end well.

"Being expelled from the judiciary and returning to the shabby house in the old district to continue a life of poverty, away from one's dreams? Only fools would become martyrs," rationality advised Albert, urging him not to become penniless for the sake of elusive principles and cheap dignity.

Albert has always been perceived as shrewd and capable by his colleagues, but in private, reason and emotion are tangled in his mind like a dark and chaotic fog, making it difficult for him to discern the direction forward. Albert is a smart person who can estimate the future of each choice, but smart people often stand at the fork in the road guided by wisdom and feel conflicted and confused.

The prosecutor, who had been keeping his smoking under control, began to secretly buy cigarettes from the tobacco shop without telling Jenny.

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At dawn, the dim light allowed the newly-changed guard team to see a slowly moving shadow on the horizon.

As the sun gradually rose, the black-blue sky was occupied by a magnificent golden halo, swallowing and blending the darkness. The stars, which had been faintly visible before, quietly receded under the irresistible authority of the sun.

The increasingly bright light made the silhouette of the shadow clearer, and the scouts who went to investigate were surprised to find a team of nearly a thousand people.

Their four-meter-long spears were held high, with white flags tied to the tips fluttering in the wind. The flags were covered with a bright red cross, on top of which was a V-shaped pattern composed of intersecting swords and hammers.

Each knight holding a lance was wrapped in silver plate armor, and the fine iron rings exposed at their joints indicated that at least one layer of chain mail was still worn under the armor.

The white background and red cross of their cloaks were identical to the style of the spear flags, covering their backs and the entire left side of their bodies. This not only made the knights more solemn, but the leather lining inside the cloak also served as the first line of defense in battle.

In the gap between the cloak and waist, a brown hook-shaped spear handle with intricate patterns was revealed. If it were to be pulled out, mysterious symbols could still be seen on the gun barrel. These graphics, containing divine power, allowed the gun barrel to remain cool even after the most intense shooting.

The musket hanging diagonally at their waist, with its long and thick gun barrel protruding from behind, squeezed out half of the cloak. As they moved with their horses, the musket gently collided with the thin iron horse armor covering their horses' backs, making a dull metal collision sound.

Three carriages pulled by four horses each were moving in the middle of the knight formation, with black crosses on the carriages displaying the identity of the group. These unwelcome guests came from the throne of the Holy City of Anno, the Light's Seal.

"Oh no, we need to inform the authorities quickly," the scout thought.

The team continued to move forward, and a knight separated from the group, riding ahead on her horse. She stopped at the city gate and removed her helmet, revealing a young and exquisite face with shining platinum hair that was almost transparent. She appeared to be around fourteen or fifteen years old, but her serious gaze and devout expression belied her youthfulness.

She drew out her ceremonial sword, studded with gems and gold threads, and struck the shoulder of the nearest gate guard.

"Lead the way. I'm going to the City Council," she said.

The City Council building in the Flondeck New District was crowded with people. Officials who had received the scout's report were discussing it among themselves. The mayor, who had just received the news, was a little late and wiped the sweat from his forehead as he asked for the latest information.

"Who is in charge here? Come out and accept the Pope's order!" the female knight said, holding her horse in place and shouting loudly.

"Respected holy knight, it is me," the mayor replied.

The female knight drew a parchment sealed with gold foil from her bosom, and after opening it, read aloud in a cold and dignified voice.

"After investigation, there are heretical factions lurking in Flondeck. The city is temporarily entrusted to the management of the Holy Knights of the Papal Hall. The city gates will be closed immediately. All officials must cooperate with the investigation and eliminate the heretical factions. Any disobedience will be considered collusion with the heretics and will be punished accordingly."

At the end of the order, there were the seals of the Pope and Emperor Byron, as well as the signature of the Imperial Elder Council. The mayor sweated even more, knowing that for a free-trade commercial city, a city lockdown meant economic depression and chaos.

The previously bustling City Council building fell into a terrible silence. What promises did the emperor and the council members of the capital receive to agree to such a ridiculous decision of the Holy See?

"Understood, I will comply with the order," the mayor said dryly. He didn't care about any heretics and only hoped that this damn order would expire soon.