Chapter 14: The Curse
Henry doubted that the exotic-looking Kaelin before him, illuminated by the dim candlelight, was real.
Everything was a lie.
The light wine in his mouth was also fake.
He was still standing in front of the boiling “Sarayah Spring,” watching the gray-haired commander rise and fall in the bubbling water. That group of grotesque creatures with long pincers fanned the aroma of the commander’s flesh toward their faces, listening to their stomachs gurgle and savoring their pain.
He was merely hallucinating, trying to escape the guilt of wanting to eat the commander.
Imagining comrades and a witch hunter, envisioning them miraculously rescuing him to safety.
Henry continued to look vacantly at everyone.
The dwarf butcher engineer sighed as he blew on his flintlock pistol and said, “Our captain… is beyond saving.”
“Yes, beyond saving,” said the witch hunter Arkanis. “There are some dead branches near the secret passage entrance that we can bundle up and burn.”
Kaelin turned her head; her hair was as red as fire, and when she flicked it, it danced like flames. “Burn him?”
Arkanis said flatly, “Based on my years of experience hunting witches, his soul has succumbed to corruption. In simple terms, it has rotted away, and only fire can purify it.”
“No! He’s human.” Kaelin said, “He’s a good man, protecting us as we retreated. He’s always been a hero.”
“I remember him. I’ve fought alongside him against the greenskin orcs at the Obsidian Pass. Back then, he even took down a giant spider for the Emperor—so big that the goblins built two stories on top of it…”
As Arkanis spoke, he placed the blade of his curved knife against Henry’s neck, who was mechanically sipping lukewarm beer: “But the world is unpredictable. He’s already broken. He doesn’t even respond when the blade is at his neck. The knight you just saved there looks a lot better than him. Hey, buddy, what are you doing?”
The imperial knight, dragging his weary and exhausted body, had thrown aside his gauntlets and was crouched on the ground, writing something. He said, “I need to write a very important letter to the Emperor.”
“Look at this guy; he can still engage in complex intellectual activities.” Arkanis said, “Just drink some hot holy water; you’ll be fine.”
Kaelin’s hands dropped. She said, “Yes, Henry is already dead, burned to ashes, just like my homeland, reduced to cinders.”
“Then that’s good,” Arkanis said. “I kill painlessly and quickly.”
“But before that…” Kaelin suddenly raised her hand, swung her arm in a wide arc, and landed a resounding slap on Henry’s face. The “crack” echoed throughout the secret passage, so loud that even Arkanis was startled and said:
“You madwoman, you’ll expose us.”
Henry’s head turned aside, the force of the slap was enough to nearly dislocate it.
“That hurts.”
Henry covered his swollen cheek and asked Kaelin, who was squatting in front of him, “Are you real?”
Kaelin raised her hand.
Henry immediately raised both hands and said, “No, no, no, you are real, you all are real.”
“Are you interested in joining the Imperial State Church?” The witch hunter Arkanis extended an inviting hand to Kaelin. “The Empire needs your hands that can dispel corruption; perhaps your slap can help the priests of Sigmar find a new way to exorcise it.”
“Do you want me to give you one? Human.”
Henry was extremely weak; he asked, “What… what is going on? Am I… safe?”
“You are safe, very safe.” The butcher engineer pulled out a palm-sized loaf of bread that looked like stone and handed it to Henry. “Here, eat a bit.”
Henry bit into it, and his teeth nearly fell out. It was no surprise, being made of stone flour and having been baked for more than five days; it was enough to break down doors.
“My teeth are going to fall out.”
“Dwarf, take your stone away.”
“Only by being able to eat hard bread can one dig for mines.” The butcher engineer blew his beard, took back his own bread, blew on it, and bit into it himself. “It’s chewy!”
Kaelin pulled out the so-called elf cookie, made from dried fruits, and after Henry ate some, he felt invigorated. Listening to Kaelin’s accented common tongue, her tone was calm, like a bedtime fairy tale.
“We were about to give up on you, but on the way, we encountered the witch hunter Van Helsing, who seems to be quite a famous witch hunter.”
“What do you mean famous?” Arkanis raised his head and said, “My reputation is known from Shalin City to the Empire; there is no one who does not know me.”
“I haven’t heard of you, and neither have the birds in the forest.”
“Haha.”
Kaelin continued, “We communicated, and with Van Helsing joining us, we decided to take the risk to try to save you. The forces of corruption were getting carried away and relaxed their defenses; they aren’t any better than mere mortals. The city is truly a nightmare…”
Henry thought of the incidents that occurred in the city and nearly retched.
Kaelin quickly shut her mouth and said, “The defenses were unexpectedly lax; we sneaked nearby, perfectly ambushed, and easily rescued you.”
“My comrades?”
“Many have died.”
“Thank you.” As a piece of the elf cookie entered his stomach, Henry grew more and more tired; his eyelids fluttered and finally closed.
He had not slept for three full days, extremely fatigued, and fell into a deep and restless slumber.
Fragments of horrific scenes from these days interlinked and seemed to appear before his eyes: skin drums, captives on crosses, and the commander churning in boiling spring water. He was back in the execution ground, where the cold wind whipped against his face.
Henry desperately wanted to逃, to flee the execution ground, but each time he failed, hearing the eyeless succubus laughing, laughing at his pain.
Finally, a fierce argument woke Henry, releasing him from his nightmare.
As he opened his eyes, he still saw the stone ceiling of the secret passage. Beside him, the silver-haired witch hunter was fighting the imperial knight, brawling like children.
The witch hunter Arkanis was riding on the imperial knight’s chest, swearing as he landed a punch after punch while saying, “You useless bunch, lost the Vanguard City, and yet you blame the Emperor?!”
“The Emperor has harmed us!” the imperial knight laughed. “He lost battles; he sent us to the battlefield, to be toyed with by demons!”
“Shut up, don’t curse my boss!” Arkanis snapped, his face turning red with anger, and gave the imperial knight two punches.
Just then, the letter the imperial knight had been writing fell beside Henry. Henry picked it up and glanced at it.
The letter read:
“Your Majesty the Emperor, Vanguard City has fallen.
“This city has been lost; may you thus be cursed.
“Because it was you who sent us here, because you did not tell us that death is not the worst fate. Because you asked us to promise to defend your sacred banner, which did not protect us from the monsters. Because you were in the rear, not fighting alongside us.
“When the leapord knight squad was on the verge of collapse, neither crying out nor begging for mercy, holding on to the pitiful alley leading to the temple, where were you? When our blood filled the ditches, mixing with the sewage, where were you?
“When our will and spirit shattered, crying like dockworkers, where were you?
“Your throne is built on the corpses of naïve fools and soldiers yearning for glory. It was only when the demons brought Commander Vistal to the temple, tossing him into the ‘Tears of Sarayah’ fountain, and lit a fire beneath, that I realized this.
“The commander was boiled alive for three days.
“The former merciful blessings of Sarayah can now only be deemed cruel, the blessing hanging his life. His skin was covered in blisters, peeling away from his flesh.
“We knelt on the ground watching, letting the cold wind whip our faces. Our blood flowed from our cracked wounds, as if trying to escape this terrible place. We had no water to drink, our throats dry and cracked. We had no food to eat, our stomachs emaciated and withered.
“The commander has been boiled for three days and not dead yet. His flesh turned grayish-white, smelling so fragrant that I despised myself for wanting a bite….”
The words were filled with resentment, and as Henry read, he felt the same, wanting to look away but unable to, slowly becoming immersed.
At this moment.
In the distance.
The Emperor of the Empire, unable to sleep due to an old injury, stepped out of his tent and looked into the distance, as if seeing the Empire’s territory burning fiercely.
He increasingly felt that he was a useless emperor, relying on lies and clever tricks to sit in this position. Countless soldiers had died because of his incompetence.
The power of the eternal chosen was terrifying. The apocalyptic army behind him was even more frightening.
He had no confidence in overcoming such a formidable enemy.
But…
The Emperor of the Empire looked around. Originally called the three heroes of the Empire, now only he was left alone in this place.
The leader of the Sigmar Church, Volkmart, died under the hands of the eternal chosen.
Another dean of the Imperial Combat Academy, proficient in metal magic and said to have betrayed to study necromancy.
Only he remained to hold up the Empire, with countless people looking at him with hope.
The Emperor straightened his back; no matter what, he had to uphold the Empire.
In the secret passage of Vanguard City.
A furious shout came:
“The ones toying with you are demons! The murderer doesn’t dare to curse, turning around to curse his own people, right?! You pig! Next time, I’ll find a hundred bulls and have my way with you. Are you still going to curse your mother for bringing you into this world?”
This insult directly woke Henry, bringing him back from his trance, pulling his gaze away from the letter.
Arkanis shook the imperial knight’s neck vigorously: “Do you understand?”
The imperial knight smiled widely: “I curse the Emperor!”
His tongue was so long.
“Damn, I take back my words.” Arkanis raised his head to look at Kaelin: “The one who is corrupted is him; he has already been defeated. Hey, long ears, quickly give him a hard slap.”
Kaelin, disinterested, just punched the imperial knight in the face.
The imperial knight was still laughing: “I curse the Emperor! I curse Sigmar! I curse the Empire!”
Arkanis pulled out a knife and said: “He has to be burned.”
“Burn it, burn it.” The imperial knight shouted like a pig being slaughtered: “The end of the world is—”
Arkanis slit his throat, muttering a few curses, turned to say, “Hey, that thing is embarrassing my boss; I want to chop her up. Will you all join me?”
