Chapter 235: I'm Just a Passing Knight (5K Bonus 71 72)

Fa Ao stared blankly at the distant mist, which now showed not the slightest ripple, blinked rapidly, and said in a daze, "This... what on earth is going on?"

This can't be right, can it?

The holy knight who had prepared to sacrifice himself but failed was still in a daze, while his companions were even more anxious than he was.

"Don't worry about what's going on for now—stop it, quick!"

The two Wu Seng rushed forward, one on each side, grabbed his arms directly, and held him up firmly.

At that very moment, the holy knight's legs, which had still been able to hold him up, suddenly lost their last strength; his knees buckled, and only the Wu Seng's support kept him from collapsing to the ground.

At the same time, two healing divine spells landed on him impatiently.

White light enveloped the holy knight's body, nourishing his weary, parched frame, dispelling his weakness, and bringing a hint of color back to his pale, hollow cheeks.

As time passed, the holy knight's originally feeble body gradually steadied, and the blade in his hand loosened its grip slightly.

The light on the blade slowly faded, merging back into his body and giving his complexion a touch of ruddiness.

Seeing that the holy knight was finally out of danger, the nuns, whose nerves had been taut all along, finally relaxed.

Immediately after, a hint of vexed anger appeared on the elder sister's face, and she could not help but begin to scold:

"Do you know what you were just doing? What you did was simply reckless in the extreme!"

"Do you think you're a hero? Can sacrificing yourself on your own whim make you a hero!?"

The nun's voice was not loud, but it was full of solemnity and reproach.

"Do you think that relying on your own strength, recklessly praying for a power so great it might devour you, can solve every problem?"

"Did you ever think—if He had not answered you in time, or if that power exceeded your limits—what fate would have befallen you?"

"You would not only have thrown your life away for nothing, you would have plunged us into an even more desperate situation!"

If Fa Ao could destroy that high-rank ghost wolf and successfully drive back the remaining pack, that would be the best outcome.

But what if he couldn't?

If he died, it would utterly enrage these already frenzied monsters.

Run?

Could the rest of them really escape?

Hard to say.

The nun clenched her fists tightly, glared at the somewhat dazed holy knight, and said through gritted teeth, frustrated that he was letting her down:

"We are a team. Every single life is incomparably precious. Your life belongs not only to yourself, but is tied to the safety of the entire team!"

"I can't stand you holy knights who think you're so clever! You lot only know how to..."

"Sister! Stop it!"

The elder nun still wanted to say more, but was held back by her younger sister, who had finally come back to her senses.

"Um, although Fa Ao really did do wrong, it was after all to save everyone's lives—there's no need to be this harsh..."

At this point Walo also scratched his bald head somewhat awkwardly and chimed in softly, "I think so too. He does deserve a talking-to, but not one this brutal."

It's really not a crime worthy of death!

"No, I think she's right. He really does need a scolding."

Walo froze for a moment, then said angrily, "Zar, shut up! How dare you say that!?"

Things had finally been almost smoothed over—why are you stirring things up?

But after he finished saying that, he froze completely.

How could Zar, who had taken a vow of silence, speak?

And even if it really were him, that wasn't his voice!

He turned his head and saw Zar gesturing at him so fast his hands were practically leaving afterimages.

But besides him, who else was there?

Who was speaking?

"Who is it!?"

"Hehe, guess who I am?"

Realizing something was wrong, the group looked toward the direction the voice had come from—within the mist!

Just as they all stared in that direction, a blood-red figure slowly walked out of the thick fog.

That figure seemed summoned from the abyss of darkness, radiating a terrifying, hair-raising aura all about it.

Thick fresh blood coated every inch of its skin, its hair... its original appearance was completely unrecognizable.

The stench of blood on it was so heavy it was almost tangible; the pungent smell spread outward like a surging tide.

With the mist no longer concealing it, the thick bloodlust spread out, instantly exploding the wariness in everyone's hearts!

The nerves that had only just relaxed were taut once more, and they felt an immense pressure.

Killing intent.

The killing intent emanating from that figure was positively suffocating.

Like another black fog swirling around it, slowly twisting and coiling, as if to devour all life around it completely.

That dreadful threat was like a heavy mountain pressing down on them, leaving them unable to breathe.

Who on earth is this person!?

They did not know the answer, but judging from the situation before them... this was undoubtedly a powerhouse from the realm of evil!

"Fall back!!!"

Walo let out a roar, stepped in front of everyone, glared at the figure, his gaze locked tightly upon it, and warned loudly, "Don't come any closer!"

Absolutely cannot let him get any closer!

Clearly, the blood-red figure paid no heed to Wu Song's warning, and continued to stride forward with those heavy, resolute steps.

With every step forward, the thick stench of blood and the aura of slaughter grew more intense, crashing over the crowd.

The crimson figure's steps seemed slow, yet each one carried an invisible pressure, as if crushing their hearts.

Thump! Thump!

As he advanced, he spoke slowly, his voice not hoarse, but rendered strange and twisted by his appearance.

"His actions are indeed extremely irresponsible; blind sacrifice only brings trouble to others."

"Can a single person's sacrifice truly buy a great victory?"

The crimson figure whispered, his voice laced with mockery:

"He never considered the consequences for the team after losing him—acting on fleeting passion to challenge dangers far beyond his capacity. That's a childish act."

"In other words… everything he's done is merely to prove his own worth, to demonstrate his bravery to the gods."

He wasn't doing this for others.

He was doing it only for himself.

After hearing these words, those who had been on guard fell silent, unable to help but ponder his claims.

His words… seemed to carry a sliver of truth.

"Your Grace, please stop speaking."

But at that moment, the nun who had just criticized Fa'ao stepped forward, fixing her gaze on the uninvited powerhouse, coldly saying:

"No matter what, he is our companion—you have no right to judge his actions!"

"We are from the Mist Monastery! Please leave!"

Her voice jolted the others awake; they finally snapped back to reality, staring in terror at the terrifying figure now standing before them.

I actually believed him… and thought his words made sense!!?

"... Companion?"

The crimson figure finally halted, turning to look at the stunned paladin, smiling: "Look, they don't want to lose you."

"So rather than solving problems alone, I think you'd be better off communicating more with your companions. What do you think, Fa'ao?"

!!!

Those who had been preparing to strike froze.

He knows Fa'ao?

And at that moment, Fa'ao, who had long sensed the voice was familiar, finally snapped back to himself and recognized the identity of the man before him.

He blinked, then his eyes flared with sudden recognition; he looked up at the figure, voice hoarse with delight: "Your Grace Herbert!!?"

Once recognized, Herbert—who had been pretending for so long—finally dropped the act, nodding with a smile:

"Oh? Haven't seen you in days, and you're ready to sacrifice yourself again? Heh."

Herbert sighed, shaking his head with weary amusement.

Has this guy become addicted to sacrifice?

Why is he always sacrificing whenever I see him?

Either he's just finished sacrificing, or he's on his way to do it… is he addicted?

"Don't keep thinking about sacrifice every time—your body won't hold up forever."

"You think sacrifice is a moment of fearless bravery, but sacrifice never comes without cost."

Herbert wasn't exaggerating.

As the paladins' last-resort trump card in dire situations, sacrifice itself is an extremely dangerous act.

Right now, Fa'ao appears unharmed on the surface, but his foundational core has suffered massive depletion.

His foundation has been shaken.

Once the foundation of a great building is disturbed, the entire structure risks collapse.

The body is no different.

Though this sacrifice wasn't fully unleashed, Fa'ao's lifespan has already been shortened by this recklessness.

His talent will gradually deteriorate; his paladin power will grow harder and harder to control.

If he doesn't receive timely healing, the end result will be total ruin—losing all his power.

"If you truly lose your power, you will no longer be the paladin who protects others and destroys darkness."

"You'll become a useless man who can't even protect himself. At that point, all your ideals, beliefs, everything you wished to protect—will vanish into thin air."

"The path of the paladin has many branches: some choose to protect others, some choose to destroy enemies. Which path have you chosen?"

Herbert blinked, teasing: "Ha! Surely no one chooses to sacrifice themselves and do nothing at all?"

The Wu Seng listened to these words; their wariness faded, replaced by thoughtful expressions.

The two nuns now finally relaxed, realizing they had misunderstood the man before them.

Someone who could speak such words was certainly no evil being from a dark realm—he was one of their own, someone who truly understood the core of the paladin.

He might even be a high-ranking elder of the monastery!

Which legend is he?

Of course!

Could it be… the very powerhouse Fa'ao wished to follow?

At that moment, Fa'ao finally came to his senses, lowering his head in shame.

Though he had never consciously thought it, reflection revealed a faint echo of such thoughts within him.

If he sacrificed himself and became a hero, then all matters after his death would no longer be his concern.

Just as Herbert said—he had already proven his own worth.

Enough!

But this is clearly wrong!

He mumbled, humiliated: "Your Grace, I—I was wrong…"

"Stop. You don't need to explain to me, and I don't need your explanation."

Herbert shook his head, cutting off Lord Fa Ao's explanation, pointed behind him, and smiled: "Save those words for someone more suitable."

After being interrupted, Lord Fa Ao pressed his lips together, turned to the others, and gave them a strained nod.

He knew he would have to sincerely apologize to them later.

"Your Grace Herbert, how did you end up here? Didn't you go deeper?"

Herbert smiled at this and delivered his prepared line: "Me? I'm just a passing Holy Knight."

Everyone:?

This powerful figure… somehow didn't match their expectations.

Not just his bloody, eerie arrival, but his tone of voice—it wasn't serious at all.

"Uh… okay, I understand." Lord Fa Ao blinked, then quickly bowed his head, as if grasping something.

If His Grace Herbert doesn't wish to speak, there must be a reason.

It must be because of some hidden truth he cannot reveal to us!

Herbert was very pleased with his understanding, nodded, and said: "Rest well here. Don't leave until you're fully recovered—there will be no danger on your way back."

"I have other matters to attend to. I won't stay to keep you company."

After saying this, Herbert didn't wait for their reply. He smiled, nodded to the others, then turned and walked back into the mist.

Besides Lord Fa Ao, who bowed his head in respectful farewell, the other four stared blankly as Herbert's light footsteps vanished.

?

From Herbert's bizarre arrival to his graceful departure, less than five minutes had passed.

He truly seemed to have just wandered by out of boredom, dropped by to greet Lord Fa Ao, and scold him for his recklessness.

After a long hesitation, the younger nun whispered: "Lord Fa Ao… who was that Grace?"

Who exactly was he?

Lord Fa Ao looked up, puzzled at the others, and frowned: "You don't recognize him? How could you not recognize him?"

Must we know him?

Is he that famous?

Just as the younger nun was about to ask again, Varo suddenly snapped back, disbelieving: "... Herbert? Wait—you said his name is Herbert?!!"

The wounded Holy Knight lifted his head proudly, beaming: "Yes! The very Herbert you're thinking of!"

"Is he famous? Who exactly is he?"

While the younger sister remained confused, the elder sister suddenly realized something and murmured: "... Herbert Albert? The Silver Winged Son? The one who tamed the mad dragon?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

At that moment, they also noticed Zhal's unusual state—he, who had been meditating in silent contemplation, was frantically nodding, trying to make some sound to get their attention.

He was the first to recognize Herbert's true identity, yet had been unable to speak the truth—he was nearly suffocating.

"Yes! That's him!"

Supported by the two, Lord Fa Ao struggled to stand upright, gazing at the direction Herbert had vanished, and said gratefully: "Last time, it was His Grace Herbert who saved me."

Though there was no concrete proof the wolf pack's retreat was tied to Herbert, he felt it—felt he had been saved by Herbert once again.

Thank you, His Grace Herbert!

The younger nun now recalled Herbert's appearance, her eyes widening in shock.

"But I remember his face looked very..."

Young, delicate—like a child who had just come of age!

But what was that just now?

That terrifying pressure, that suffocating aura of slaughter.

"How… how did he become like this?"

The others froze upon hearing this question.

Yes…

Why exactly?

What had happened to him?

Herbert walked back into the mist and lightly clapped his hands.

Clap. Clap.

The next instant, the previously ordinary mist suddenly flared bright.

Thousands of oily green, eerie eyes ignited within the mist, encircling him, staring fixedly at the blood-stained boy at the center.

Anyone else seeing this scene would have been terrified—but Herbert smiled.

"Heh..."

As Herbert's gaze swept over those eyes, he saw only fear and fanaticism buried deep within.

"Good boys."

He looked at the high-rank ghost wolf that had just joined his ranks—its throat already torn out by other ghost wolves.

"Pity. It didn't pass the first trial."

He shook his head in regret, then stepped over its corpse and continued forward.

Herbert hadn't intended to kill it—but since it was useless on its own, he couldn't be blamed for not giving it another chance.

"Let's go, keep searching for our lost compatriots and make them part of our group."

As if understanding his words, a howl filled with excitement and fear echoed from the mist.

"Aowu——"

Herbert did only one thing in the mist.

Find small packs of Mist Ghost Wolves, kill their leaders, become the leader, and absorb the remaining wolves into his own pack.

Of course, if the leader was willing to submit, he would spare their life.

Now, he had reclaimed more than half of the wolf packs outside Mist Mountain, and over a thousand wolves followed behind him!

Yet he still did not stop.

I came, I saw, I conquered.

He would not stop until he had absorbed all the Ghost Wolf packs.

If possible…

Herbert would become the new Wolf King of Mist Mountain.

After all, who said only wolves could become Wolf King?

Just as the Duck King isn't necessarily a duck, and the Dragon King isn't necessarily a dragon.

"Aowu!"

"Aowu——"

"So this is Mist Mountain..."

Yuner stared at the mist-shrouded mountain range before her, squinted, and silently shook her head.

"I wonder why she insisted on coming here? Wouldn't it be better to play somewhere else? Really."

Joanna scanned the surroundings, found no one to greet them, and sensed no presence at all.

"Where are they? Are they late?"

As she wondered, phantom hoofbeats echoed from the mist, drawing nearer!

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack…

Who dares ride through Mist Mountain?

(End of Chapter)