Chapter 2539: Blood-Red Armor
“Beauty hospital? No, I recently took in some women from the Plague Church as my subordinates. Their faces were already disfigured by the side effects of their divine spells. I need to find a way to treat them, at least so I don’t lose my appetite looking at them,” I said helplessly.
“Cosmetic surgery? I didn’t expect you to actually want to do something like that. I only have a superficial understanding of cosmetic surgery, but I know a very skilled cosmetic surgeon. He’s not in Cando City, but runs a beauty salon in the Royal Capital Madrid. I can introduce you if there’s an opportunity,” Amelia said.
I felt that her previous question and answer with me already showed she knew more than just superficial knowledge. In the field of medicine, she could certainly qualify as a cosmetic surgeon. Perhaps her understanding of beauty and aesthetics differed from the norm.
“Amelia, I might need to go out today, and I might bring some people back with me. Their identities are very sensitive and absolutely cannot be seen by the hospitalized soldiers,” I suddenly said.
“Is this related to what happened at the cemetery a few days ago? You should ask Samantha about this. I’m not good at hiding people,” Amelia said lazily. I had already told her about the Falbedy Cemetery incident.
Before I could even ask, I heard a voice devoid of emotion reply, “I can. I will prepare a secret room that is not connected to the clinic. The soldiers will not discover anyone hiding inside.”
“Thank you, Samantha. I’ll be going out now,” I said, turning back. The little doll nurse stood by the doorway.
“Take this with you. It might spare you some trouble. If you go to any sensitive places, just say you’re going to buy medicine,” Amelia said, tossing a card to me.
It was a Medical Certificate Card issued by the military. The name field read “Lime,” my identity as a support doctor at the medical camp. It also had a certification from Amelia’s Clinic.
Actually, I had a formal doctor’s certificate from the Central Hospital, which I won in a bet with the dean. However, it bore my real name, Dr. Parul. The alias, originally intended to be discarded, had become my relatively safe identity in Cando City.
I walked out of Amelia’s Clinic. The street had become even more desolate. Although the sudden cessation of the vascular disease outbreak had temporarily eased people’s panic, the military’s martial law and mandatory searches had heightened the tension in the city.
As expected, I encountered a patrol on the road who checked my identity. Upon seeing my military doctor’s credentials, they let me pass.
In reality, many commoners lacked identification. They were just ordinary citizens who needed to work, buy groceries, and cook to support their families.
The soldiers were not overly harsh with the commoners. They would mostly just glance at their documents, and even without identification, they would let them go, or at most, send them back. They could easily find another way around.
Perhaps these soldiers were already fed up with the noble lords of the Royal Family and didn’t want to bother the commoners anymore.
However, after walking a few blocks, I witnessed a shocking scene: a group of warriors clad in blood-red armor were forcefully demanding entry to inspect a factory.
“Stop! We have paid our taxes to the Royal Family, and soldiers inspected this place a few days ago. You have no right to enter!” the security guard at the gate protested loudly.
“Shut up! There’s an Undead aura coming from inside, so there must be evil cultists hiding within. If you don’t let us in, you must have been bewitched by evil spirits!” the warrior in blood-red armor said forcefully, drawing his weapon.
It was a heavy, broad-bladed one-handed sword, with gold-red metal decorations on the spine. A normal person could only wield it with two hands, but he held it firmly with one.
Among them were priests in skirt armor, warriors in leather armor, and Holy Knights exuding a Holy Light aura that I found extremely detestable. The style of their armor was highly consistent, featuring gold, red, and white, with red as the primary color.
These were clearly armed personnel from some church, not official soldiers. The sacred aura they possessed was colder and more abhorrent than any I had encountered from other holy churches.
I hadn’t seen these people during the siege of Falbedy Cemetery a few days ago. With such a distinctive armor style, I couldn’t have missed them. Yet, their aura felt vaguely familiar.
Faced with the warriors’ sharp blades, the factory security guards stumbled back in fear. However, they remained dutiful, saying, “I cannot let you in. Please allow me to find the manager to inquire, or you can go find the guards to present an investigation order!”
The security guard’s statement was perfectly reasonable. However, to his surprise, as soon as he finished speaking, a flash of sword light appeared before his eyes. Blood splattered as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and was cut down by the warrior.
“Those in league with the Undead shall be executed without mercy. If any of you still wish to obstruct us, you will suffer the same fate!”
After cutting down the security guard, the warrior even attempted to deliver a finishing blow. None of the other clerics in blood-red armor stopped him, nor did they show any signs of sympathy, reluctance, or objection. Instead, they displayed a fanatical fervor.
I sighed, preparing to intervene and save him. Although it would inevitably draw me into another conflict, and possibly endanger my hidden identity, and I hadn’t even accomplished what I set out to do.
However, the factory they were trying to forcefully enter was the Steam Armor Factory where I once lived. I had only taken a slight detour to reminisce and see it, and then I witnessed this scene.
As for the Undead aura sensed by the warriors in blood-red armor, it was likely left behind by Via, Cherise, Giselle, and the others when we lived there. We had resided there for quite some time, performed numerous rituals, and set up barriers that wouldn’t dissipate so easily.
Since it was related to me, I couldn’t ignore it. Just as I was about to act, a figure suddenly charged forward amidst white mist, intercepting the sword just as it was about to strike.
The warrior’s face contorted in anger. He glared at the figure who had stopped him, only to see a knight in Steam Armor wielding a greatsword. Judging by the ornate crest and patterns on his armor, his identity was certainly significant.
The warrior was about to question him, but the knight spoke first, “Cando City is not a lawless place! Unauthorized entry into private property, whether residential houses or factories, is prohibited, let alone killing someone in broad daylight!”
“Who are you? How dare you interfere in the affairs of the Bloody Crusaders?” a Holy Knight asked, stepping out from the group in blood-red armor.
