Fang Hong picked up the scepter.
Suddenly, the scepter in his hand gradually lost its brilliance, revealing its true form—a length of eleven inches and quarter, graspable by one hand, displaying the faded emblem of the Colin Kingdom.
An echoing murmur of fragmented whispers filled the empty room.
Holding the Scepter of Authority, the voices abruptly converged from all directions around him, and became distinctly audible. It was an elderly plea,
"Mr. Manlo, don't just stand there, help me… ah, it hurts, these damned thieves. And those King's Morning Knights, utterly useless, can't even leave one person to assist me."
A sharp and thin voice responded, "Well, that's not it; I asked them to leave, respected Lord Declan."
"You? Well, capturing those anarchists works too, otherwise they would definitely cause trouble at the festival."
"Rest assured, the festival will proceed as scheduled."
"I hope your words prove fortunate, Mr. Manlo, I never knew you were such a smooth talker before."
"Oh, that's not it, just talking to myself."
"Talking to yourself?"
"Do you know why I had the Knights leave?"
"Why? Isn't it to catch those two damned thieves?"
"Oh, that's not it; too many people, too much chaos, inconvenient to act."
"Inconvenient to act… wait, what do you intend to do!? Guards, guards! Don't come over—Ah!"
In the dark room, the screams abruptly ceased.
A sound of metal clashing, the sound of a longsword dropped to the ground.
"Ah," the sharp and thin voice spoke again, "what a poisoned blade, what a vicious Paladin; don't worry, Lord Declan, I will avenge you—"
The voice, like withered leaves, was swept up by the night wind and gradually faded away.
In the darkness, a pale, corpse-like old man stood, his forehead marked with disgusting white patches that were particularly conspicuous under the moonlight.
Fang Hong and Hilveld silently watched the old man and said, "Is this regret, Mr. Declan?"
"Every moment, I think only of revenge, young man." The old man's voice was like sand.
Fang Hong shook his head: "You still don't understand where you went wrong."
"That doesn't matter, all I want is revenge."
"Perhaps I will help you, but not for your sake."
"That doesn't matter," the old man glanced at him, "remember your words, young man."
His voice dissolved into the darkness.
Fang Hong looked at the scepter in his hand, which revealed a line of small script:
'Regret is like a poison, gnawing at the heart—'
Scepter of Regret.
Hilveld silently looked at him and stepped forward, helping him open a door that appeared in the darkness.
The two had not exchanged words, yet seemed to have developed a sort of silent understanding as Fang Hong tacitly approved her action.
The scenery changed again.
Ahead was Lady Tengye's inn, freshly painted doors as good as new, gilded with golden designs, the hanging sign not yet as mossy as he saw later.
The inn's name was written in script along with a smaller line of text:
'A warm haven for travelers—'
But beneath a destroyed nest, is there any whole egg? At this moment in Dolifen, what warmth or shelter is there? Fang Hong walked up the steps, pushing the door to enter.
Before his hand touched the door, it suddenly 'banged' open left and right, and ghostly knights appeared out of nowhere, streaming past him on both sides into the inn.
Fang Hong and Hilveld were caught in this deluge.
It felt oddly familiar.
Out of nowhere, a sharp and thin voice shouted, "Seize them, believers, these are the traitors who killed Lord Declan!"
The hall of Lady Tengye's inn was surrounded by guards and Morning Knights
Occupying their positions were Misu and Mr. Diket. "What's happening, how did they know we are here!?"
"Luen is gone."
"You mean Luen betrayed us?" Misu's face turned pale, "That's impossible, how could he do that!?"
"I didn't say that," Mr. Diket's expression was cold, "just stating."
Misu gritted his teeth: "I can't believe Luen would do that."
"Anyway, let's break out first."
"We must split up to break out, only then do we stand a chance—Mr. Diket, whoever succeeds in escaping must find a way to disrupt the festival."
The elder knight nodded.
Knight, cultist, and hero, all fantasies vanished.
Fang Hong entered the hall, suddenly seeing at a nearby corner's shadow a pale young man, anxiously looking in this direction.
But his gaze was hollow, seeming to pass through both him and Hilveld.
His blonde hair draped softly, wearing a sailor shirt with a bulky waist bag, looking frantic and drained.
Then the young man's image also faded into nothing.
Mist swirled around Lady Tengye's inn, with only one staircase inviting him and the servant Hilveld to climb; Hilveld walked beside him, taking the lead, while the maid silently carried the statue.
Fang Hong felt the scepter in his hand seemed to change—
He looked down and saw that the scepter had acquired attributes:
Scepter of Regret (Magic Guided Conductor, Equipment Level, D+)
Basic Attributes: Attack 44-57
Plugin Addition: Minor Strength Increase+, Perception Increase+, Shield IV, Stunning Command
Weight: 1.4kg
Interface/Output Occupancy: Main Weapon Interface, 140M
Requirements: Level 12 any
'Under the Dolifen Fantasy, bearers of vows may disregard its level restrictions'
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