Free Web NovelChapter 565: Chapter 565 Divine Favor_1
Twilight on the outskirts of Pine City in the autonomous region, a carriage was speeding along the trade path.
Mr. Bloodshirt sat inside, leaning against the carriage wall with his eyes closed, still submerged in the drowsiness brought on by the jostling of the carriage.
But even in his semi-conscious state, a corner of his mind remained pondering.
To be safe, he had to take preemptive action.
Although that place was the rival’s home ground, and the rival seemed able to sense him, it was far too dangerous to let "Aiden Galahad" continue to grow.
To simply kill him without erasing his existence would be futile; "Aiden Galahad’s" presence must be completely removed from this world—that was the goddess’s binding on him, a test and an agreement in his eyes.
Before he fulfilled this agreement, no matter how many times it took, the goddess would resurrect a new "Aiden Galahad."
But that was fine, the next Aiden Galahad might not be more dangerous than the current one.
He slightly opened his eyes, sensing his enemy’s direction deep within his consciousness.
Silvertown was a place of profound memories for him.
It was close now. As long as he could find the Hand of Oblivion again, it wouldn’t matter how many times Aiden Galahad was resurrected.
The divine authority, the Eternal Lover... everything would be his. Human desires are endless, and since one is born human, one should actively climb the tower of desires.
The carriage suddenly slowed down, jolting him completely awake, nearly toppling over inside the vehicle.
"What’s going on?" he conveyed his inquiry to the coachman through thought.
"Someone is blocking the road, my lord," came the coachman’s voice from up front. freewebnσvel.cѳm
Mr. Bloodshirt looked out the window with caution and saw that there indeed was a man ahead with both arms raised high, crossing and waving towards them, wearing a wide-brimmed cowboy hat that shaded his eyes.
"Hey, friend! Don’t go any further; there’s a wolf pack up ahead! They’ll attack the carriage if you encounter them!" the man shouted loudly.
"Continue forward," Mr. Bloodshirt instructed without waiting for the coachman to ask.
The likelihood of encountering a wolf pack on the trade path was much lower than encountering bandits, and he wasn’t afraid of either. Compared to that, he preferred to save time.
The coachman cracked the reins, ignoring the warning and driving the carriage onwards.
"..." The man turned his head and watched the passing carriage as he yelled.
No sooner had his words faded when the wolf pack appeared, not in the distance but right beside the carriage, racing alongside it.
The horses, tugged at and alarmed, let out frightened neighs as the wolves that emerged immediately pounced and bit them.
Amongst the coachman’s screams, the horses fell to the ground, and the out-of-control carriage tipped over.
The overturned carriage spun several times on the trade path before the shaft suddenly snapped, separating the horses from the vehicle.
The horses struggled to their feet, and the wolves that had been on them were now nowhere to be seen. Driven by instinct, they sprinted away, fortunate that the burden that had weighed them down was no longer there, making their pace much faster.
By the time Mr. Bloodshirt climbed out of the carriage, he saw that the critical means of transport had already vanished into the dust.
He turned his gaze towards the man who had blocked the way; with a flick of his sleeve, the Blades of Vengeance appeared in his hand. Two disciples followed him out of the carriage, while the coachman seemed to have broken a leg, struggling and unable to rise from the ground.
The wolf pack from before was clearly related to this man.
"So I’ve said it, don’t go any further," the man said with a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he took off his hat.
The moment Mr. Bloodshirt saw the other’s face, he felt a chill down his spine.
The face, with its mocking smile, was none other than Aiden Galahad!
Even the summoning call of vengeance appeared out of thin air in Mr. Bloodshirt’s consciousness, almost causing him to act subconsciously.
But Mr. Bloodshirt quickly calmed down and made a judgment—it wasn’t him. freewebnovёl.ƈom
He could still sense the presence of his enemy in the direction of Silvertown, far away. In other words, there were now two Aiden Galahads, and this one that appeared out of nowhere was obviously a fake.
However, the impostor’s disguise was so convincing that even the summoning call of vengeance was deceived.
This was undoubtedly the power of authority, and it was of a high level.
"Who are you?" Mr. Bloodshirt asked.
"You see me as who I am, I am who you see," the standing "Aiden Galahad" chuckled.
Try it out.
That thought having emerged, Mr. Bloodshirt did not hesitate to plunge the double-edged sword of vengeance into his own heart, while loudly reciting divine words.
The same injury pierced through the chest of "Aiden Galahad," and at that moment, a follower who had broken a leg and was struggling on the ground behind Mr. Bloodshirt suddenly collapsed and stopped moving; Mr. Bloodshirt had transferred his own injury to him.
Even with a heart pierced, "Aiden Galahad’s" face still wore an undiminished smile, "You should have looked more carefully."
As Mr. Bloodshirt pondered in surprise, in just the blink of an eye, he found that this "Aiden’s" appearance had changed, transformed into that of another follower behind him.
He turned his head to look at that follower, just in time to see him collapse to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, blood rapidly spreading beneath him.
"Don’t be so rash," said the other, who this time had turned into a dark-skinned middle-aged man dressed in a pioneer’s attire.
Mr. Bloodshirt’s gaze towards the man changed.
This transfer of injury wasn’t a "sacrifice"; it was simply a "transfer."
It was as if after the man turned into that follower, everything he was burdened with would befall that follower.
If the person the impostor had changed into a moment ago had been him, then the person now lying on the ground would undoubtedly have been him as well.
The power of the double-edged sword of vengeance was strong, but not enough to overcome a ruler who had already ascended to a divine position, and the same went for the power of the saints he wielded.
There was one more follower who could take on injuries, but there was no longer need for testing; that would undoubtedly be a suicidal act.
"Just as you’re worried now, I could easily kill you," the middle-aged man said as if he had read Mr. Bloodshirt’s thoughts, raising his hand and pointing at him, "But don’t worry, I haven’t come for that."
"So what’s your motive?" Mr. Bloodshirt asked.
"I hope you turn back and stay away from the place you are headed to for at least a month," the middle-aged man said calmly, "I know what you’re up to. Unnecessary characters appearing will affect my script."
"In other words, you want to stop my revenge? Well, that man really is favored by the gods," Mr. Bloodshirt said with displeasure on his face.
"I favor only the story; I pursue only inspiration..." the middle-aged man laughed heartily, "As long as you don’t ruin my material, I won’t interfere with you."
