A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages
Chapter 152 - 147: Ancestral Wisdom Put to the TorchGwen tucked the letter into her bosom and, with a small knife, cut a few strands of hair from Dean Brand.
"Let’s go, then."
Just as Gwen was about to stand, she heard Eric’s sharp cry: "Get down!"
The sharp clash of metal blades followed. With a loud CLANG, a longsword was sent flying, clattering to the ground.
The owner of the longsword, a Knight who had appeared in the doorway at some point, stared at Eric in astonishment.
He was stunned by Eric’s speed. A mere Cultivator had left him utterly defenseless.
The tip of Eric’s Viking Sword was now pressed against his throat.
The Knight hastily raised his hands, signaling the other Knights behind him not to move.
"Brother William, you have violated our agreement!" As the standoff continued, Torod’s voice echoed from a distance.
"A blasphemous oathbreaker has lost the protection of God. All contracts and vows made with him are void. Knights of God, you must be vigilant! Your eyes have been deceived. The man before you is no longer a devout servant of God, but a malefactor who defies His will.
Look! Look at this poor man, innocently slain by Torod’s jealousy and malice. He lies helpless on the ground, his body left to the ravages of wind and time. His soul cries out in anguish! It cries out that in the world of the Lord of Heaven, fools and villains now hold sway! Everyone proclaims themselves a loyal servant of God, yet you ignore the one who defies His will, allowing him to act with impunity.
The stench of decay in this room is his final roar, his last cry of outrage! Brave and loyal Knights before me, know this: you belong to your Lord, but you belong first and foremost to the Lord of Heaven! Don’t tell me you can stand here, unmoved by this!"
Eric stepped aside, revealing Brand’s body to the Knights, clearly already beginning to decompose on the ground.
The Knights began to hesitate.
If an English Cultivator had made such a claim, the Knights might have just laughed it off.
But the Cultivator before them was clearly a Norman.
For a long time, Norman Knights had held the English Church in contempt, as its ways differed from the Church in Normandy. Many Norman Knights, therefore, treated the English Church as if they were crusading against Heresy and would show no mercy.
But for a Cultivator from Normandy to raise this issue, they had to give it serious consideration.
And as Knights of the Monastery, their reverence for Christ was far greater than that of others.
"A lost soul who dabbles in heretical Magic! A villain who has abandoned God’s discipline! An insignificant Englishman! A transgressor who defied his king! He was not worth mourning!" Torod strode slowly into the room, stopping right in front of Eric.
Gwen noticed the movement of Torod’s hand. She lunged forward and shoved Eric aside.
A cloud of purplish-black smoke erupted.
Thanks to Gwen’s timely intervention, Eric managed to avoid it.
The Knight, however, was now free.
"Get them!" Torod shouted to the five Knights at his side as he backed away quickly.
The Knights no longer hesitated and charged in.
Torod, for his part, turned and fled.
Unarmored, facing five other unarmored Knights would be extremely difficult.
Eric backed away quickly, snuffing out an oil lamp on the side before swiftly returning the Fluorite in his hand to his storage space.
The room was instantly plunged into darkness.
The five Knights charged into the room but lost their target. They spread out, swinging their longswords blindly, trying to strike Eric.
But to no effect.
The room fell silent, as if the earlier commotion had never happened.
The only thing the Knights could perceive was the stench of decay lingering in the air.
It made them incredibly tense.
A blood-curdling scream suddenly shattered the silence, followed by a second, and then a third.
The scent of blood began to permeate the room. Mixed with the stench of decay, the peculiar odor was nauseating.
In the blink of an eye, only two of the original five Knights remained.
The two remaining Knights, their nerves stretched to the breaking point, began to shout, trying to make enough noise to bait Eric into revealing his position.
Yet nothing happened.
Soon, one of the Knights realized he could no longer hear his companion’s footsteps. It seemed only his own remained.
He frantically called out his companion’s name, but there was no answer.
Light bloomed in the room once more. The sole surviving Knight saw Eric standing before him. His eyes glowed a strange, purplish-red, and the tip of his Viking Sword was barely an inch from his throat.
At the same time, he saw that the room was littered with the bodies of his comrades.
Eric’s Sword was perfectly still, its blade not wavering in the slightest. The Knight’s sword, in contrast, trembled uncontrollably.
"Drop your weapon. Get out," Eric ordered coldly.
The Knight shuddered, dropped his longsword, and took a few trembling steps. Once he was sure Eric was truly letting him go, he scrambled out the door.
Eric rushed to Gwen’s side and helped her up.
Her lips had turned black, and she seemed to be in too much pain to speak.
Eric pulled a potion vial from his robes and moved to give it to her.
Though Gwen was still resistant, Eric used his strength to force the potion into her mouth.
Gwen struggled, causing much of the liquid to spill from the corners of her mouth and soak her clothes.
But at last, he got some of it down her throat.
Then he swept her up into his arms and charged out the door.
He could smell the strong stench of something burning.
’That bastard Torod must have set the library on fire.’
After bursting out of the scriptorium, he saw thick smoke and flames at the head of the stairs.
Eric poured the rest of the potion onto his Monastic Robe and charged down.
The second floor was completely engulfed in flames.
Deep within the second-floor library, he saw the figure of Torod. The man seemed to have descended into madness, still setting books ablaze with a torch and muttering, "Heresy, Heresy."
He didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.
Eric had no time for the murderer; he continued his charge down to the first floor.
The fire on the first floor was even more intense. The scorching heat pierced his soaked Monastic Robe, searing his skin.
Fortunately, he was fast enough. Just as he felt he was about to catch fire himself, he finally burst out of the Cathedral.
The area outside the Cathedral was filled with Cultivators. Only a small fraction of them were making any effort to fight the fire; most stood by, indifferent, discussing trivial matters.
Eric set Gwen down.
"Feeling any better?" Gwen nodded.
"You rest for a moment."
Eric then walked over to where several Knights were holding down Delang.
When those Knights saw Eric approaching, they showed no intention of attacking him. Perhaps Torod hadn’t given them any orders.
These Knights outside still believed Eric was the Referee sent by the Bishop of Langxiang.
"Let him go." Eric’s tone left no room for argument.
"But... Dean Torod said..."
"Dean Torod has passed away heroically, slain just moments ago while battling a Demon in the library. I am now assuming control of Peterborough Monastery on behalf of the Bishop of Langxiang. But we need not mourn, for he has simply been summoned by the Lord."
"This..." The Knights looked up at the furiously burning great library. Under these circumstances, it was unlikely anyone could have survived.
Soon, another figure stumbled out of the Church—it was the very Knight Eric had spared.
The Knight’s face was a bloody mess as he staggered forward.
"Dore, what happened in there? Dean Torod, he..."
"Dore, did you or did you not witness Dean Torod’s martyrdom as he fought the Demon?" Eric cut the other Knights off, turning directly to the one named Dore.
"Er..." Dore’s eyes darted about, hesitating, but he ultimately confirmed Eric’s story. "Yes."
The Knights exchanged glances, then released Delang.
"Aldred ran in to save the books!" Delang said, grabbing Eric’s arm urgently.
"What? Is he insane?" Eric frowned, his gaze fixed on the blazing Cathedral.
As he was contemplating what to do, another person burst out of the Cathedral. It was Aldred, though his hair had been completely singed off.
He was clutching a pile of books and stumbled, falling to the ground and sending the volumes scattering.
"God protects His devout servants."
Eric smiled and shook his head.
Then he waved to the Knights behind him.
"The fire is out of control. To stop it from spreading, we must seal the exits of the Cathedral and the Saint Bone Hall, and use earth to contain the flames."
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