Chapter 1460: Chapter 1460

The commotion in the room soon drew the attention of others. Though the inn wasn't crowded, within half an hour, a host of townspeople had gathered.

Jenkins had no idea why so many people were wide awake in the dead of night. He and the traveler stood at the entrance of the inn, watching as a crowd of torch-wielding townspeople surrounded them.

“Yes, I’ve told you countless times,” Jenkins declared. “He burst into my room with a knife just now, trying to kill me. Look, you can still see the knife marks on these two pillows.”

At Jenkins's feet lay the pillows he had used, and beside them, the collapsed innkeeper and his knife.

“Isn't it perfectly clear what happened? Where is the town constable? I believe we require some assistance.”

The traveler asked loudly. He had already learned of the innkeeper’s original plan from Jenkins and had noticed the distinct footprints of someone loitering outside his own room.

But the townsfolk didn’t summon the constable to punish the innkeeper, despite the evidence. They huddled together, torches held high, talking amongst themselves. The chaotic din made it impossible to make out what they were saying, but one thing was clear: they intended to protect the innkeeper.

“Travelers, you should leave town now.”

After some time, a portly man dressed like the mayor of this small country town was pushed forward. He addressed the two outsiders with this command.

Jenkins asked, nudging the innkeeper with his foot.

“We will punish him according to our local laws.”

the portly man replied calmly.

Jenkins and the traveler exchanged a glance, both knowing it was a lie. The townspeople were protecting their own neighbor, an acquaintance. Even though he had done wrong, they would never punish him for attempting to harm two travelers who meant nothing to them.

“Very well, we’ll leave now,”

the traveler said. Jenkins nodded and watched as the man turned to go upstairs and retrieve his luggage.

Just then, the innkeeper, who had been feigning unconsciousness at Jenkins's feet, suddenly “woke up.” He pointed at the two of them and bellowed:

“Don’t let them steal anything! Everything upstairs belongs to me!”

The townspeople began to whisper amongst themselves, neither supporting nor opposing him. So, the innkeeper pressed on:

“I have a very large pack stored upstairs. Besides a small amount of cash, it’s filled with alchemical items. I was planning to share them with all of you. I can’t hoard such wealth for myself!”

The atmosphere instantly grew tense. The whispers died down. The traveler froze, halting his turn to go upstairs. He and Jenkins watched as the gazes of the encircling crowd began to shift.

“You’re not actually entertaining any other ideas, are you?” the traveler asked. “If I’m carrying so many alchemical products and still dare to travel alone, doesn’t it occur to you that I might be a wizard?”

The traveler’s question clearly unnerved the townsfolk. Though they still surrounded the entrance to the inn, not a single one dared to step forward. Thıs content belongs to novel✶fire.net

“No, he can’t be a wizard!”

At that moment, the innkeeper at Jenkins’s feet leaped up, snatched the sharp knife, and lunged, plunging it into the traveler’s chest.

“No, you can’t possibly be a wizard!”

His reasoning was sound, in a desperate way. If the traveler truly was a wizard, the innkeeper was a dead man anyway. Since death was certain, he might as well fight back on the off chance the man was bluffing.

Jenkins didn’t know how this era defined the term “wizard,” but he had confirmed long ago that the traveler was an ordinary man. He hadn't anticipated such a sudden attack.

Caught off guard, the traveler couldn't dodge in time. The blade sank into his chest, but Jenkins caught him before he could fall.

“You see! Hahaha, you see! He’s not a wizard! He’s not a wizard!”

the innkeeper cried excitedly, his voice cracking with glee. The third time he repeated it, however, his voice warped with sheer terror. He had just noticed the other man—the one who had been so unassuming—pulling the knife from the traveler’s chest, a green light glowing from the palm of his hand.

The traveler groaned in pain, but his color was normal. His chest wasn’t even bleeding.

“That’s right, he’s not a wizard. But I am.”

Jenkins said calmly, unleashing the full effect of his newly acquired Aura of Fear. Kneeling in the shadows cast by the torches, he suddenly looked like a monster lurking in the darkness. The torchbearers froze for a moment, then, just as he’d expected, scattered in a panic. The innkeeper simply collapsed, this time for real.

“So that’s how the story really goes...”

Jenkins mused internally, turning to look at the healed traveler’s expression. To his surprise, the man looked utterly dismayed.

“Why aren’t you pleased?”

Jenkins asked, confused. With the townspeople’s torches gone, the only light came from an oil lamp on the inn’s counter, casting the traveler’s face in shadow.

“Why should I be pleased? Oh, gods, why did I ever meddle and decide to travel with this man?”

Without waiting for Jenkins’s reaction, the traveler grumbled, then knelt, grabbed the innkeeper’s dagger, and forced it into the unconscious man’s hand. Gripping the innkeeper's fist, he then plunged the blade directly into his own heart.

As he did so, he shot Jenkins a warning glare, telling him to stay out of it. Jenkins’s mouth fell open in shock. He took a step back, making it clear he wouldn’t save a man so determined to die.

“This should do it, right?”

A man couldn’t live long with a knife in his heart. The traveler slumped to the floor, his voice weak as blood gushed from the wound, staining his clothes. Though his face was a mask of agony, a flicker of excitement was visible in his eyes.

Jenkins took another step back, watching the dying man struggle on the floor. The traveler soon breathed his last. At that very moment, Jenkins lifted his gaze to the pitch-black night sky.

In a spectacle visible only to him, a brilliant column of golden light descended from the heavens, piercing the clouds. From behind the strange, towering cloud formations, a pure white angel with unfurled wings slowly emerged.

It was a classic depiction of an angel: tall and featureless, draped in a simple white robe. A silver whistle hanging at its waist revealed its identity—a symbol found only within the church of the Righteous God, the Untracked Traveler.

As the angel descended, the soul of the dead traveler appeared. It stood beside its own corpse, gazing up at the celestial being with a look of pure adoration before falling to its knees and raising its hands to the heavens:

“Oh, angel, I have walked the path of glory! I have been murdered at my journey’s end, in accordance with the ancient ritual. Now, I pray you, lead me from this world!”