Chapter 387 - Chapter 387: Chapter 367: Back (1/2)
Chapter 387: Chapter 367: Back
“I must return to Nasir…”
In the dim and swaying carriage, a young man lay quietly, his left arm and right leg gone, skin largely missing, his crooked figure outlined in despair by the occasional weak light that penetrated through the window.
His body appeared to be eroded by endless agony, every muscle tensed, and even lying down did not relieve the heavy discomfort. His clothes were ragged, sweat mixed with dirt on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and dripping onto the dry carriage floor.
Suddenly, a merchant outside the carriage spoke up with a Southern Cyart accent:
“Hey! You haven’t a single coin on you, I believed in you when I brought you all the way here, I hope you haven’t lied to me, that you truly are a friend of the Fischer family! Otherwise, I will surely settle this with you!”
Felix’s face was haggard, his eye sockets sunken, but his eyes revealed an indescribable weariness and resilience.
“Rest assured, I am.”
“I am an important friend of the Fischer family, saving me is by no means a bad thing…”
After Felix finished speaking, he fell silent, closing his eyes, his whole body trembling with pain. His limbs, which should have regenerated due to the “Limb Regeneration” power of Bloodline, showed no signs of recovery.
“Uh…”
His hands tightly clutched the makeshift cushion beneath him as if it were his only support in a turbulent world. Every bump of the carriage furrowed Felix’s brow even further, but still, the staunch man never let out a groan, silently bearing it all, burying his anguish deep within.
His breathing was heavy and rapid, each breath a silent battle with the Death God.
Though his body had reached its limits, within Felix’s gaze shined an unwavering light—the bleak but steadfast hope for the future.
He had to return to Fischer!
He must! Convey that message back!
“We’re here! Wake up!”
At some point, Felix had drifted into a fitful sleep, but he snapped awake at the sudden shout from outside.
Finally,
had it arrived…
Was it Nasir…
At the thought of this possibility, his lips trembled involuntarily, wanting to ask whether it was indeed Nasir, yet not daring to actually ask, for fear of a negative answer.
Thankfully, the merchant outside quickly affirmed it.
“We’re at Nasir City! Right ahead is Fischer Manor! But we’ll have to queue for a long time before we get a chance to visit, it’s already noon and I don’t know if we’ll make it by tonight…”
Felix let out a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling an immense sense of happiness flooding over him, tears flowed uncontrollably.
“I, I have finally… returned…”
I am back.
At the gates of Fischer Manor, the sunlight dappled the meticulously trimmed lawns, where a line of people stood.
Clothed in a variety of garments, they all unmistakably showed a look of anticipation they could scarcely contain.
The silhouettes of those waiting moved slowly through the long line, like a silent and heavy river flowing towards the solemn and mysterious Fischer Manor.
Just months before, the Fischer and Romann families had officially declared that the current Cyart King was unfit for the throne, conspiring with heretical cults, truly a blight on the nation and a sinner in the eyes of the gods; therefore, they supported a young girl in her teens, Peggy Adler, as the new monarch of Cyart.
Throughout the East Coast Province, the Fischer family had ultimate authority; their word was law.
Thus, more and more visitors from all over the country and even abroad began arriving, compelling the Fischer family to announce that only on Wednesdays and Fridays each week would they receive guests without appointments.
Basically, unless known to the Fischer family, individuals below the rank of baron would have to queue here and wait to visit the Fischers. For many, it could take days or even a week or two to see the team of “Enforcers” responsible for handling various affairs under Christine’s charge.
Normally, these people had no chance of meeting Christine herself.
Barons and those of equivalent status, however, would be invited by the family’s servants into the manor, awaiting in the large rooms within.
Even higher ranked visitors, the Viscounts, would be taken to special private resting rooms, and they would also have direct conversations with Christine herself.
The manor gates were firmly closed, the thick wooden doors carved with intricate patterns that seemed all the more rustic and dignified under the evening sun’s afterglow, adding an invisible pressure.
For those waiting in line, time seemed to slow to a crawl, becoming heavy, each second packed with anguish.
Felix’s voice came out weakly.
“No need, no need to keep queueing. Just go forward and say two phrases and a name, ‘forging’… Felix, just say these two words, that’ll be enough.”
“What happens next, you won’t need to worry about.”
The merchant, skeptical but ultimately nodding, braved the discontented stares of the nobility and merchants, circled the long line, and approached the Fischer family’s servants and guards.