Chapter Seventy-Four: A Noble Person

On the rooftop of the Emerald Rose Hotel, within a conservatory reserved exclusively for distinguished guests, vibrant flowers were in full bloom. The vast greenhouse was assembled from large panes of glass imported from the Vias Commercial Federation, creating a space where the temperature was pleasantly warm and the humidity perfectly balanced. Gentle steam continuously issued from pipes, gathering into mist that hung in the air like natural clouds.

Outside, the wind howled and snow fell heavily, but within these walls, not a trace of winter’s chill could be felt. Every snowflake that landed on the glass was instantly evaporated by the heat inside. Thousands of cultivated red roses blossomed in resplendent beauty, their petals beaded with dewdrops that shimmered beneath the lights.

Arthur and Elham stood in the conservatory, gazing southward. The Emerald Rose Hotel already towered above all surrounding buildings, and the conservatory was built even higher, offering an unobstructed view. They could see the vast expanse of forest beyond the city of Dunkirk, the black pines standing motionless in the biting wind, resembling a wall of darkness.

Suddenly, a column of red light shot into the sky, so blinding that Arthur instinctively narrowed his eyes. The light persisted for the span of three breaths before fading, and then the forest erupted in flames so fierce they painted even the sky red. It was a long while before a faint explosion reached their ears. Amidst the roaring wind, only by straining to listen with utmost concentration could Arthur and Elham catch that distant rumble.

The wildfire was quickly extinguished by the raging snowstorm. In such a harsh winter, even the fiercest flames could not endure, and the heavy moisture in the air made it impossible for the fire to spread.

“What a pity,” Arthur said, sounding despondent as he sipped his sparkling wine. “They were my strongest and most loyal warriors. But they could never serve me forever; I remember well the oath they swore in days past. When one among them burns their soul and life, the others will carry that soul home to their homeland.”

He sighed and shook his head. “What a shame. I thought they would become my greatest allies, helping me to take down that boy, Lin Qi.”

Elham squinted, giving a slight shake of his head. “At the very least, they’ve shown us the true strength of Lin Qi—or rather, your adoptive father. Another Heaven-ranked Knight… what a powerful family. If only we could secure their support, it would be a wondrous thing indeed.”

Arthur’s expression shifted. He asked in a low voice, “Are you certain Lin Qi was behind this?”

Elham glared at Arthur and retorted, “Who else could it have been? Ya and Ling have never had contact with outsiders in Dunkirk!”

Arthur’s face twisted in frustration. He gritted his teeth and cursed, “Damn it, truly damn it! In that case, you cannot stay here. Leave now; I’ll have my men escort you out of Dunkirk at once. Make haste for the imperial capital. You must not remain here.”

A sudden realization dawned on Elham. He drew a sharp breath, his voice trembling with anger. “Would they dare kill an envoy of the Church?”

Arthur gave Elham a peculiar look and muttered under his breath, “If they eliminate every witness, chop you up and feed you to the fish, and some of your belongings turn up on the outskirts of a faraway city, who could ever say where you truly met your end?”

Elham fell silent, a vein bulging on his forehead as he clenched his jaw in fury. But he said nothing more. Abandoning his wineglass, he followed Arthur swiftly out of the conservatory, down a private corridor, and back to their suite.

Within the bedroom assigned to Ya and Ling, the two women were soaking in an enormous bathtub, scrubbing themselves with soap in utter disgust. Their pale, delicate skin was reddened from the harsh cleansing, nearly to the point of breaking and bleeding. Yet they continued to wash themselves meticulously, from between their toes to the smallest patch of skin behind their ears, leaving no corner untouched.

Since the Black Spirit warriors had departed, they had returned to their room, bathing themselves again and again. More than an hour had passed, and they had washed at least a dozen times, yet still felt unclean, scrubbing their bodies with gritted teeth.

On the carpet beside the tub lay a thumb-sized fragment of broken red crystal, from which a faint wisp of firelight rose. It was a punitive medium, a tool for remotely activating certain talismans, seals, or magical formations. With a single incantation, shattering the crystal would unleash the full power of a designated magical artifact, no matter how far away.

The two women muttered their complaints, their lovely faces twisted in fury like witches. “Damn those mongrels, those black-skinned sinners! How dare they touch our bodies? Wretched creatures, how dare they lay hands on our noble flesh! God, destroy that cursed race—they truly deserve to be wiped out!”

When Bal had confiscated their possessions, he had brazenly torn open their clothes, taking everything from them. Much of their skin was exposed, and when the Black Spirit warrior had carried them to safety, he must have touched their bodies with his arms.

The mere thought of those Black Spirit warriors, their dark skin and coarse, honest faces, made the women shudder with goosebumps. They cursed all Black Spirits with the harshest language, constantly changing the bathwater and relentlessly scrubbing themselves clean.

“Why does such filth even exist in this world? Sinners should all be destroyed, but those black-skinned wretches should be the first to perish,” Ya and Ling fumed, their faces turning livid. They reached for another bar of soap, another fresh towel, fiercely helping each other scrub their backs with such force, it was as if they wished to peel off a layer of skin.

Determined to cleanse themselves completely, they did not fear the heat, immersing themselves in near-boiling water. Their bodies, scoured by rough towels in the scalding water, finally began to bleed; thin streams of blood colored the bathwater as their skin broke.

“Oh God, why, when beings as noble as us exist, do you still allow those cursed sinners to remain?”

Tears of indignation streamed down their faces as they trembled, scrubbing themselves again and again, undeterred even by the sight of their own blood. Over and over, they repeated their noble lineage, cursing the black-skinned Black Spirits, and blaming the gods for not eradicating those sinners entirely.

“May their souls suffer eternal torment in the fires!”

Thus did these two exalted ladies offer such splendid wishes to the men who had saved their lives.