Chapter 25: Old Man, Send Money (Please Follow & Read)

"Damn it, scared me to death…"

Back in his room, Herbert let out a long breath and collapsed onto the bed, drained.

"What a sneak attack — I almost fell into their trap!"

This time Herbert had gone to the Bishop of Thorns on his own initiative to snitch, so he had already been on full alert, terrified of letting any crack show.

Even so, he had still unknowingly had his thoughts influenced by someone in the shadows, and had nearly exposed himself.

"Aren't you holy men? How can you be this shameless!"

A bunch of old fogies with no martial virtue, ganging up to bully an eighteen-year-old comrade like me… that's really too much!

The methods are just too underhanded — even I, Miss Xie Shen's contractor, can't stand watching.

"You're even pulling out mind control now — behind the scenes are you also planning some kind of psychic pollution and personality dumping?"

"No good, I have to strengthen my soul's defenses! I need to find a way to keep arming my soul!"

After two rounds of mental interference from Nie Nasha and the Bishop of Rusty Nails, Herbert was nearly developing post-traumatic aftereffects.

"Raising strength takes time, and the abilities gained from monster materials won't all be soul-protecting ones — what should I do?"

After thinking for quite a while, Herbert suddenly had an idea.

"If internal means won't work, then slap on an external cheat!"

He climbed out of bed, sat down at the desk, pulled out a sheet of letter paper, and began writing quickly.

"Dear Father, I am your most beloved second son — it's been ages since we last spoke, please send me money… no, wait, shouldn't be this affectionate."

Swish.

Herbert switched to a fresh sheet of paper and started over:

"Respected Duke Albert, this is Herbert. It has been long since I last sent my regards; I hope all is well with you, and may the gods' grace and wisdom ever attend you."

"I am doing well enough here at the monastery — the place is holy, yet within these prison walls the alien races are treacherous, and my soul is often disturbed."

"Therefore, I, your second son, standing at the edge where light and shadow intertwine, implore your aid."

"What I seek is neither gold nor silver, nor power nor glory — only a single marvel capable of guarding the soul."

"I hope for your understanding, and would be most grateful."

After finishing, Herbert frowned and fell into thought for a while.

"Hmm… the flavor's not quite right."

The sense of distance in the wording was sufficient, but it still felt a touch too affectionate and humble.

Why does it feel like begging someone for something?

No good!

Swish.

This time, Herbert cut out all the formal flourishes and wrote simply and directly:

"Duke Albert, this is Herbert."

"Darkness assails me; I need protection for my soul."

Good!

Looking at the family letter written in just a few strokes, Herbert nodded in satisfaction.

Look at that — what a fine letter!

Utterly unceremonious, the tone cold and hard as steel, the whole thing with a single theme — old man, send money!

"Heh-heh, that'll do."

Herbert didn't know whether his father had taken part in the plot against him, but at least when the two of them parted in the capital, no quarrel had yet broken out between them.

Since the facade hadn't been torn open yet, he could ask for things openly and without embarrassment.

What he was now performing in the letter was a self-imprisoned cultivator who, after being persecuted, had sealed off his heart and locked away his love — a cold, soulless machine that had forgotten what affection was…

"So then, faced with such an outcome, are you happy? Or do you feel sorrow and regret? I truly look forward to the expression on your face when you read this letter."

Too bad he had no way to see it with his own eyes anytime soon.

At the same time, he was also confident that this family letter of his wouldn't land only on the Duke's desk — those watching him from the shadows would certainly see it too.

Once they saw it, wouldn't they be even more convinced that Herbert had become utterly disillusioned and was preparing to become a man who shunned the world?

Would they let slip a smug smile?

"Let them laugh a while longer."

As for whether Duke Albert would actually send him a magitech product, Herbert didn't really care.

Wool, after all.

Shear it and you might not get any, but don't shear and you definitely won't.

Just consider it trying one's luck!

If it comes, it comes.

If it doesn't, then forget it — just act as if he never had a father, that's all.

Friends, thicken that skin a little — a lot of things really aren't as hard as they seem.

Herbert wrote just this one letter, and made no further attempt to contact anyone else.

His mother in this life had passed away from illness ten years ago, and there was no one left in the household worth his concern.

The other two blood brothers had originally been on decent terms, but after his downfall the suspicion hanging over them was too great, and he couldn't be bothered to test them.

After Herbert entrusted the letter to other cultivators to send off and returned to his room once more, there was still some time before nightfall.

"This Miss Xie Shen is really too useless!"

"Wait — are the two of us conducting some kind of long-distance romance? We have to wait out a time difference just to talk… tsk."

Herbert waited a while, and was genuinely a bit bored, for the moment at a loss as to how to pass the time.

Just as he was bored out of his mind, he suddenly remembered the hidden red hair.

Hey, I've got an idea.

"This is definitely easier to swallow than the previous scales."

Herbert stared at the strands of hair, washed and rinsed countless times, glistening under the candlelight, and took a deep breath.

With his nerves settled, he shut his eyes, grabbed a handful, and shoved it straight into his mouth—no resistance, just trying to swallow.

Then…

"Spit! Spit! Cough! Cough!"

Weird.

This feeling was just too weird!

The bizarre sensation of hair strands sticking to his throat, the agony of being unable to swallow them, struck his soul.

In that moment, Herbert felt something strange.

He felt as if he had become the stalker who trailed behind others, observing every move in secret, even collecting their fallen hair to power himself.

Wow, that's insane, bro!

Ugh.

Unable to endure it, Herbert spat out every strand of hair from his mouth and rinsed his mouth repeatedly.

"Ugh—cough, forget it, I can't swallow this. I'll wait for Nie Nasha to handle it."

…

【"You ate it?"】

"I didn't! Don't make things up, or I'll sue you for defamation!"

Herbert flatly denied it, refusing to admit he had done such a thing.

【"Hehe, let's just say that's how it was."】

Nie Nasha chuckled lightly, paying no mind to his excuses, and added casually:

【"Oh, I forgot to tell you—yes, you do need to swallow it, but the key is your blood."】

Herbert: Huh? Oh!

Wasn't there something like that before?

Then why did I insist on swallowing it with my mouth?

Could it be… I actually like it?

No no no.

Impossible. This is absolutely impossible!

How could I be such a person…

【"Alright, my ally, are you ready?"】

"You mean ready?"

【"Be careful—her willpower will be harder to endure than before."】

"What do you mean…"

As Herbert puzzled over it, his blood dripped onto the crimson hair, and a thick cloud of red mist surged upward.

The next instant.

Fire appeared before Herbert's eyes.

Endless fire!

Thank you to Hunhan Nian for the donation—thank you, boss!

…

I slept a little longer than usual last night; I hope my sleep schedule adjusts soon.

I got my first-round recommendation notice—the first round of life-or-death PvP starts this Sunday, and I'm so nervous—

Guys, please save me! Waaah!

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(End of Chapter)