Chapter 534 - 9: Douglas
Blasphemy!
This was utter and complete blasphemy!
How could he say such things?
This was a frenzied blasphemy against Oriane, against the Holy Scripture!
Grove felt his temples throb as a mixture of fear and offended fury burned in his chest.
He subconsciously wanted to tighten his grip on the boy’s arm—to teach this "cargo" and his wild talk a lesson, let him taste true pain, and make him understand what could and could not be said!
But... his bloodline.
Carlos’s words echoed in his mind again.
"Beings above the clouds," "bloodline," "maggots in the gutter"...
Grove’s mouth fell open. He looked up at Carlos’s back, hoping the lord—a man of noble birth and proper education—would offer a sharp rebuttal. Or, at the very least, show the appropriate anger and contempt, branding the shocking statement as utter madness.
However, Carlos didn’t even turn his head. His pace remained quick, a handkerchief pressed tightly to his nose and mouth, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he wished he could sprout wings and fly out of this filthy place at once.
Grove’s heart sank.
’Lord Carlos had no reaction at all?’
’Is it because he disdains arguing with a Nightmare Body whose cognition is warped, or is there another reason?’
’So what should I do?’
’Refute him?’
He realized that besides hearing stories about the Holy Scripture, he had never even read the original text from the Holy Hall. Racking his brain, he was utterly unable to form a coherent rebuttal.
’Use force?’
’Use violence on someone who might possess a noble bloodline?’
’What if... what if he gets a chance to make a comeback someday, or his family tracks us down...’
The muscles in Grove’s arm went rigid, his grip torn between fury and fear. In the end, he slowly relaxed his hold a little.
He didn’t dare.
Fortunately, after throwing out that earth-shattering question, the boy said no more and returned to his previous silence. But his dark eyes continued to calmly observe everything around them, like a detached Observer.
This allowed Grove to breathe a secret sigh of relief, while also making him more certain that this figure’s mind had truly become incomprehensibly twisted by his advanced Nightmare Transformation.
「Time slowly passed.」
Finally, a faint daylight appeared ahead, and much fresher air rushed in.
They crawled out of a rusted iron gate and stepped onto a solid street.
This area still couldn’t be called clean. The streets were narrow, flanked by low, dilapidated brick and stone buildings with peeling walls.
The road surface was also uneven and potholed, with dark brown puddles left over from the previous night’s rain.
The smell of rotting garbage drifted through the air.
There were still homeless people curled up in corners or under broken porticos, their bodies bearing sores and growths similar to those of the people in the sewers, only less severe.
Occasionally, plainly dressed pedestrians hurried past. They kept their eyes straight ahead, quickened their pace, and skillfully maneuvered around the filth and the bodies lying on the ground, their faces wearing a look of accustomed indifference.
However, after walking less than two hundred meters down this dilapidated street, the scene changed abruptly.
A low but neat metal fence appeared.
Along with a few guards in dark uniforms with sharp eyes, it clearly separated two worlds.
Inside the fence, the street was wide and flat, paved with smooth flagstones.
The sides were lined with tidy brick and stone buildings with bright windowpanes, some decorated with exquisite iron railings or small reliefs.
The pedestrians’ clothing was noticeably more respectable, their pace unhurried, and their faces held calm, peaceful smiles.
At this sight, Grove’s heart leaped into his throat.
He knew he wasn’t qualified to set foot in that area.
That was a place for "decent people," people with official status who could create "value" for the city.
Carlos walked straight to the gate. The guards immediately saluted respectfully and let him pass. Then Carlos turned back and shot an impatient glance at Grove.
Grove hurriedly pushed the boy along and followed, bowing his head slightly under the guards’ scrutinizing gazes and trying his best to fade into the background.
The moment he crossed the fence, Grove felt as if he had passed through an invisible film. Even the air seemed a little fresher.
No, it really was fresher.
The stench from the streets was gone, replaced by a faint, pleasant fragrance that filled the air.
Grove couldn’t identify the scent, but he found it incredibly pleasant—even better than the smell of a woman’s body after she’s worked up a sweat.
He couldn’t help but straighten his back a little, but he immediately felt an out-of-place awkwardness. He lightened his steps, afraid that his heavy breathing and stained boots would ruin the cleanliness of the place.
Carlos was clearly much more familiar with this area. His expression relaxed into one of comfort; he was no longer frowning, and he put his handkerchief away.
With a clear destination, he walked straight toward a particularly tall building at the end of the street.
It was a behemoth with distinct Gothic-style elements. Its deep gray stone walls were heavy and austere, its high spire pierced the azure sky, and its facade was covered in complex stone carvings. Though somewhat blurred by wind and rain, they only added to its sense of majesty and age.
Carlos walked up to a side door of the building, and it slid open silently.
He strode inside. Grove didn’t dare hesitate, quickly pushing the boy to follow.
Inside the door was a wide corridor laid with a thick, dark red carpet. Soft wall sconces lined the walls, casting a warm light.
Here, the pleasant fragrance in the air was even more distinct.