When the plot-skips players into the game world Chapter 1478 - 181: Adil’s Mercy

Such a grand and beautiful picture, yet it makes one feel uneasy and fearful.

And this is only the "air conditioning" in the center of the hall.

In the hall, one can also see slaves dressed in brown robes, frozen like specins in various corners, completely unaware.

So are kneeling and wiping the floor, while others are deeply bowing to the air.

A middle-aged female slave, around forty years old, stands before three teenage girl slaves. She is either admonishing them or teaching them sothing.

From the hall and further in, there is a wide corridor large enough to let ten people walk side by side. On both sides of the corridor, at intervals, there are embedded glass showcases — they are indeed glass, perfectly flush with the marble walls outside.

The sealed glass cabinets are filled with so kind of turquoise liquid, soaking the most beautiful n and won of various races. One on the left, one on the right, a man and a woman, old and young, all kinds of races.

Each set of showcases contains n and won of the sa race, the sa age group, even with almost the sa hair and eye color.

They had been made into specins long before the petrification arrived.

And these marble walls were imported alchemy slates from Star Antimony. They are densely inscribed with Parthian script. The engraved script in dark gold combined with the grey-black slabs has a somber feeling.

"What’s written on it?"

Aiwass whispered to Sherlock.

He does recognize so ancient Parthian words but only to the extent of understanding a few words. Piecing it together, he can recognize a general idea — like deducing the aning from a few kanji in a Japanese sentence.

Usually, he can vaguely understand.

But occasionally, completely unrelated examples or completely misunderstood cases appear. To be safe, it’s better to let Sherlock, a Transcendent on the Path of Wisdom, answer.

"Nothing enlightening."

Sherlock just shook his head: "It’s mostly prayers... or sorcery. It uses a lot of grandiose language to write about the accomplishnts of past generations of this city’s benevolent lords, the rest are prayers for the safety of him and his family, and protective curses like ’let anyone planning to harm him die imdiately’, ’cause any witchcraft invading this city to trace back to the spellcaster’."

"...Long-lasting defensive curses without a dium?"

Hearing this, Aiwass couldn’t help but want to laugh.

Who does he think he is? The Beyard Family?

Long-lasting defensive curses aren’t impossible, such as the Beyard Family’s main business — anti-tomb raider curses, which are typical long-lasting defensive curses.

No matter when, no matter who, as long as they dig the family grave, disturb the family tomb without a token, or take anything out, they’ll be pursued and killed by the curse.

The Beyard Family learned this from the Parthia Society back then. But even they need tombs, coffins, or burial items themselves as curse diums for such complex curses to work.

The benevolent lord of Rock Cellar City is at most fourth level. It’s utterly impossible for a single person to release such aimless defensive curses. This is purely psychological comfort.

"This must be the work of the trolls."

Sherlock comnted sharply: "I heard that troll wizards from the Southern Continent like to do this — they routinely consu so magic potion to curse their enemies. For example, redirecting curses aid at them to others, or causing those speaking ill of them to have diarrhea..."

"Typical troll wizard style," Aiwass nodded, "The most common should be the love spell — using curses to make soone fall in love with them; if the person doesn’t love them, they’ll feel headaches, weakness, bedridden. This is usually what trolls use to pursue love... They’ll bribe their tribal wizard to curse their beloved for them."

"But..."

Ligeia was sowhat puzzled: "Does Parthia have so many trolls?"

"The number of trolls in Parthia depends on how many trolls the goblins caught..."

Aiwass said, looking at the petrified troll statue not far away: "These things must have been his doing."

He wore a high-quality grey hooded cloak, his tall and strong body made the cloak unable to cover his calves. The ritual bag at his waist and the skull staff in his hand indicated his identity as a Curse Ritual Magician.

He stood before a grand door. At the very end of this straight corridor, it was evidently the benevolent lord’s chamber or reception hall.

This troll wizard evidently sensed sothing, raising the magic wand high in one hand. His other hand reached for the ritual bag at his waist. Amidst the unaware people, this robust troll wizard was perhaps the only one who sensed sothing amiss.

But he couldn’t act in ti and was petrified along with everyone else.

At this range, Aiwass was already feeling slightly strained — as he moved forward, it felt like a mortal walking against a gale.

Ligeia’s feathers’ edges showed slight signs of petrification.

A bright blue light screen kept appearing in front of her and Sherlock, flashes like blood vessels running across it... This was a spell nad "Curse Killing Counteracting Force Field," specifically used to intercept rituals or curses targeting oneself.

It was already overwheld at this mont — if it weren’t for the substance of Sherlock’s wand, the spell’s defense performance would’ve been completely breached.

"Vinesse."

Aiwass softly reminded: "Be careful of what’s behind the door."

"Ah, I’m watching."

Vinesse’s raspy ethereal voice softly echoed: "Don’t worry, master..."

Upon her response, Aiwass pushed open the door.

—The howling dull yellow storm suddenly swept through this frozen city!

A troll wizard with vacant eyes and a bare body stood in the center of the room, stretching his arms in a "large" pose – from the brown skin alone, it was evident he was a wizard of high enough standing in the troll tribe, not a cursing sorcerer.

His entire skin was covered in countless runes carved by knives, and those runes glowed with a dim yellow light, like the candlelight leaking from a pumpkin lamp.

Right at the center of his chest was a gold-bronze rectangle resembling a tablet, inscribed with blood "Adil’s Benevolence."

Eight slender golden chains extended from the bronze tablet, piercing into his collarbones, armpits, ribs, and abdon, fluttering with the whirlwind like wind chis.

He kept chanting in troll language repeatedly: "Praise generous Adil, praise benevolent Adil..."

And then.

Three ritualists in golden-patterned white robes suddenly erged from the corner of the room!

They had been guarding here, blending themselves into the ritual. As they detached from the ritual, the petrification wave frequency abruptly reduced tenfold, and Ligeia finally regained liveliness.

They wielded peculiar balance long staffs – a thick bronze rod with a balance suspended in front, resembling so kind of flail.

"—Desecrators, you dare obstruct Master Adil’s grand endeavor!"

The leader shouted angrily, countless sand grains coalesced into a giant python, lunging toward Aiwass!

anwhile, four dull yellow crystal javelins slowly ford near the second ritualist – an instruntal magic that even Aiwass felt slightly threatened by.

The third ritualist didn’t raise his balance long staff but lowered a pocket watch in his left hand.

At the back of that pocket watch was a dim yellow eye, and rely by eting its gaze, Ligeia felt her joints slightly stiffen, calcify.

The pocket watch spontaneously unfolded and spun like a yo-yo upon stretching to its limit, starting to majorly steal the ti of everyone present.

Intricate coordination, rare abilities.

"—But it’s useless."

Vinesse mocked.

In the next mont, countless deep purple chains filled with fallen symbols rose, entwining the trio tightly!

Three pitch-black spheres, rhythmically contracting inward as if heartbeats, appeared with the chains, instantly unraveling the Path’s powers they were brewing and accumulating.

This was originally the authority belonging to the Fallen Celestial Marshal, now held by Vinesse —

—[Sinful]!