Chapter 571: 49. The Flaws of the Demon God
The coastal defense line of the Dragon Court was now where Fisher had come for the second time. The last time was when Ingrid was brought here by two Demon Attendants to stage a coup. Compared to that time, the guards at the defense line now were much stricter. To prevent public panic, they sealed off the place where the demons had previously held their rituals.
However, thanks to Jasmine’s advance endorsement, Fisher encountered no obstacles and brought Emhart here.
After inquiring with the guarding soldiers of the Dragon Court, he learned that they had arranged Holland in a stone building within a border outpost.
The coastal border outpost was a tower-like structure about ten meters tall, with one built every few hundred meters. The defense line was constructed based on these stone towers. This particular tower was not far from the place where he had seen Ingrid; when Fisher ascended the tower, he even saw a large pit on the distant beach, still a vivid crimson, a remnant of the demon ritual’s failure.
“Sir, the Priestess has arranged for the person to be inside.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Fisher donned the robe of the Blessing Tower, wearing a cloak that obscured his face. The collar crossed at his chest faintly revealed Emhart’s singular eye, observing the outside world.
After the soldier who was guiding him turned to leave, Fisher gently grasped the handle of the door, and as he slowly pushed it open, an extremely strong and pungent smell of alcohol rushed out from within.
Fisher raised an eyebrow, opened the door to let the smell dissipate, and then slightly covered his mouth and nose as he stepped into the room.
Directly opposite the door were two windows that provided a good view, overlooking the ocean and beach, and from this vantage, he could see the traces left by the earlier demon ritual.
In front of the windows were two slightly askew wooden chairs. One chair was occupied by a man whose hunched body and limbs still appeared long. Unlike his heavy black coat from the Northern Region, he was now wearing a khaki autumn coat and a light brown gentleman’s hat, which was tilted at an awkward angle due to the strong smell of alcohol.
He held a steel flask in his left hand, and as Fisher entered, he was attempting to drink from the flask while looking outside at the traces of the demon ritual, but the sound of the door opening interrupted him.
In the next moment, he leaned back heavily against the wooden chair, which creaked under his long, thin body and lurched backward uncontrollably.
Taking advantage of the tilt, his head fell back slightly, revealing a face that was extremely pale, with dark circles under his eyes and a faint flush on his cheeks due to the alcohol.
It was the Death Lord of the Creation Society, Holland.
He looked rather lethargic but still managed to show Fisher a weak smile as he said, “Hey, long time no see, Mr. Fisher.”
Fisher glanced at him, then slowly walked over to his side, pulled out the empty chair a little distance, and opened the closed window to let the air circulate; he felt like he was going to suffocate from the smell in the room.
“I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly.”
“I came over right after I got your message. Besides, I wasn’t in the Western Continent; I was not far from the Southern Continent, so it didn’t take much time to get here.”
Fisher took another glance at him, and after four and a half years, he still looked just as he did in the Northern Region—half dead, with an obviously unsteady mental state. Contrarily, there was a strange sense about his body that seemed to have lost its connection to death.
He took another sip of alcohol, which led Fisher to ask, “If you weren’t in the Western Continent, how did your landlord contact you?”
“Landlord?”
Holland paused slightly, and then as if realizing something, he smiled and nodded, saying, “That landlord has her own way of reaching me; she told me about what you mentioned in the call. You weren’t lying to me, were you?”
“I do have a lead on your death; I wonder if you’ve heard of the name ‘Demon Dynasty’?”
Holland lifted a hand to scratch at his unkempt beard around his jaw, exerting effort to activate his alcohol-clouded brain. After thinking for a moment, he suddenly smiled faintly, took a sip of his drink, and said, “Actually, I also know you’re not lying to me because I had already informed the Fate Lord about it before coming.”
“…”
Fisher’s words paused for a moment, interrupted by what he said.
In fact, Fisher had hoped this matter wouldn’t reach the Fate Lord, not entirely because of his distrust stemming from previous biases towards the Creation Society.
Back when he looked down on the Completion Manual and the Creation Society due to Feilon and Erwind, his views had improved a bit after going back and understanding the chaos and those Trans individuals.
He gradually came to realize that Tang Zeming Asuka and those Trans individuals were actually not at fault. If he had to assign blame, it would most likely fall upon the chaos, upon the chaotic knowledge in their minds, the true source of disaster.
But at此刻，他不想与死亡卿打招呼完全是因为他答应命运卿的事情还没有完成。
