Chapter 1786: Chapter 1786

"No, it’s not like that."

"I didn’t mean it that way!"

"Where is Su Shijun, I’m looking for Su Shijun!"

Zheng Qing felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into the snow, shivering in the cold wind. He shouted loudly, trying to defend himself, but the whispers from the audience below, like the buzzing of bees, drowned out his roars.

"Let me, on behalf of the Alliance’s ordinary wizards, ask you a few simple questions." Ms. Pulitzer squeezed Zheng Qing’s shoulder hard, like an iron clamp, making Zheng Qing gasp in pain.

At the same time, the witch’s other hand fetched a wooden pavilion from her pearl-encrusted handbag, with a small silver bell hanging from it.

"The Pavilion of Truth!"

"It can discern the truth in what a wizard says! No one can lie in front of it!"

"Ms. Pulitzer is as meticulous as ever."

The whispers from the audience below grew louder, and Zheng Qing could clearly hear their discussions. The pavilion half-covered the silver bell but couldn’t cover the malicious and critical gazes from below.

Ms. Pulitzer slightly raised her voice to suppress the whispers from the audience and squeezed Zheng Qing’s shoulder again, asking kindly:

"I would like to ask you, how did you master such powerful magic... if I remember correctly, you are just a first-year student, how could you kill a seasoned Big Wizard?"

"No, it wasn’t me... it was the cat."

Zheng Qing muttered, his eyes involuntarily glancing at the small wooden pavilion in midair. The silver bell on the pavilion began to shake violently, jingling so much it felt like it would churn a person’s stomach.

"Faking in front of everyone!"

Amidst the outcry, a voice was particularly clear: "...Last year when his hunting team won the freshman championship, I already said something was fishy, but no one believed me! Now everyone believes, right?"

"Please answer honestly to meet the public’s expectations, thank you!"

Ms. Pulitzer had to paste a ’Voice Like Thunder’ talisman on her throat to barely suppress the uproar from the audience, and she posed the second question:

"Next question, why did you choose to help the Demon Alliance Army on the Black Prison Battlefield, demolish the Defensive Magic Array of Black Prison Castle, and kill countless brave wizards?"

"That was an accident!"

Zheng Qing shouted, his voice twisted with agitation:" I did not help demons! I am also a wizard! It was just an accident! An accident on the battlefield!"

On the pavilion, the silver bell shook even more wildly, jingling so intensely that a network of fine cracks appeared on its silver shell.

Ms. Pulitzer covered her mouth in shock, looking terrified at Zheng Qing: "What on earth did you say! It actually made a magic item unable to bear it and want to self-destruct!!"

"I’m telling the truth!"

"It really was an accident!!"

Zheng Qing roared loudly, and bang, the silver bell shattered before him, turning into dazzling fragments that scattered all over, like a vast expanse of white snow.

A figure suddenly rushed onto the podium, waving a bunch of black Mandala, shouting at the young wizard on the stage:" You executioner! Murderer!!"

The security wizards charged forward, pinning the intruder to the ground with a flurry of hands and feet. But Zheng Qing still retreated a few steps in terror.

Because he saw that the wizard who charged on stage, waving a black Mandala, had only half a body—neatly aligned, from forehead to nasal bridge, philtrum to chin, vertically. It was as if a sharp scalpel had dissected the wizard in a very short time—Zheng Qing could even see the shivering lungs, blood vessels curled after being burnt, and the thick, hesitant blood plasma rolling along the section.

The wizard pinned to the ground struggled energetically with his one good arm, raising his head, glaring with his azure monocular eye, full of resentment and anger:

"...We were fighting bloodily on the front lines! But we got stabbed in the back by a scoundrel like you!! Then you shamelessly claim innocence!! Absolutely despicable!!"

Zheng Qing was left speechless, unable to utter a word.

Because he vaguely realized where the wizard’s other half body went—it was taken out by that slender Red Sky Pillar he knocked over, the Forbidden Curse Pillar that effortlessly sliced through the inner castle’s Defensive Magic Array like a hot knife through butter. If it landed on an ordinary wizard, it would definitely cause such damage.

Seemingly sensing the doubt in the young man’s heart, the wizard pinned to the ground struggled more fiercely, his cursing even louder. The security wizards dutifully performing their roles turned their heads, looking at the young warlock, with their eyes filled with dislike and disdain.

"No, not me, I didn’t do it."

Zheng Qing shook his head hard, continuing to retreat in terror. At this point, only that huge red curtain behind him seemed to bring a sense of safety.

"Don’t let him escape, catch that disgraceful person!"

The crowd below suddenly surged, one figure after another trampling over the colorful Speaker Flowers, climbing up to the podium, reaching for Zheng Qing, and those pale white arms, like they were reaching out from the Abyss, dense and overwhelming, filled with a vibe of death and despair.

Even more terrifying were the owners of those arms.

Some were headless, as if their heads were bitten off by a fierce beast, with ferocious teeth marks remaining on the neck; some had a large hole through their chests, the wound smoothly circular, with the heart nowhere to be found; and others were covered in granulation and tumors all over their bodies, and black curses like centipedes crawled swiftly among those granulation and tumors.

These were the wizards who died on the Black Prison Battlefield.

Or rather, wizards worse than death.

Zheng Qing was increasingly horrified, forcibly breaking free of Ms. Pulitzer’s grasp, retreating backward repeatedly, continuously waving his arms to deny the overwhelming accusations.

The lengthy curtain trailing on the ground tripped the young man, and he couldn’t get up in time. Supporting himself with his hands, he continued retreating backward, until he backed into that red area behind him, wrapped in the heavy drapery, feeling a trace of warmth at last.

The heavy curtain enveloped him, isolating the noise outside, as if those curses and condemnations were constantly receding. As the boy felt slightly relieved, he vaguely heard a gurgling sound.

Like running water, or the sound blood makes when pumped by a heartbeat.

The word "blood" flashed across his mind, and he abruptly caught a whiff of a bloody scent. The young wizard slowly widened his eyes, and the heavy red drapery in front of him somehow turned into a boundless sea of blood, an endless expanse of red, an overwhelming sky of red, a vividly saturated red.

The viscous blood seemed like innumerable invisible hands, gripping the boy’s neck, arms, robe corners, and every part of his body, dragging him into the depths of the blood sea.

From deep within the blood sea, the soft humming of sea demons singing ’Sky City’ resonated once more.