Chapter 143 | From Galgame Nobody to Eternal Sovereign

When dusk fell on the outer edges of the Black Gallows, Nega heard his own voice once again.

The voice was clean and urgent, carrying the panic of a youth who had not yet been hardened by the world.

“There are still people alive in the town, please help us.”

He spoke far too well.

His body would lean forward on its own, his eyes would redden just right, and his voice would grow raspy at the perfect moment.

He knew exactly when to bow his head and present the neatly folded quest slip, letting the newcomers see the dried bloodstains, the mining seal, and the faint, overly clean scars on the back of his hand that had only recently healed.

As adventurers, they had seen countless civilians offering sincere commissions.

Naturally, they could mimic them to near perfection.

Moreover,

he had already done this countless times.

Nega stood beneath the old wooden sign, behind him the faded words welcoming caravans to the Black Gallows.

The clock tower in the distance did not chime. The abandoned gallows tower leaned in the twilight, its iron hooks swaying gently without making a single metallic sound.

The entire town was alive. It was breathing, waiting to devour more prey.

Thump.

The giant heart deep underground beat once.

Nega's feet shuffled forward half an inch in response, his body shifting aside to clear the path behind him.

He knew he should be smiling right now.

So he smiled.

He knew he should look like he had just been rescued.

So his eyes lit up, his lips pursed, his shoulders trembled with suppressed emotion, and even his breathing became realistically ragged.

Only Nega himself was locked deep within this body. He could hear his bones and flesh speaking for him, feel the command in his blood that did not belong to him pushing his tongue, and listen as the distant footsteps were drawn step by step into the town by his own actions.

Don't come in.

Those words battered themselves bloody inside his mind.

Don't trust me.

Yet his body only bowed even more sincerely, holding the kingdom seal on the quest slip closer.

The caravan guards, night patrols, and other commissioned adventurers he had lured in...

Those who were clearly pale with fear, yet still refused to ignore a cry for help, had all hesitated at this very spot.

Then they would see a nineteen-year-old youth, see a light crossbow, a document pouch, a royal seal, and a sincere face.

Rescuers always believed faces like that.

They weren't foolish.

Nega told himself.

Captain Elmelo hadn't been foolish either.

While the reward for this quest was indeed handsome, more than that, adventurers like them operating in the Chaos Wasteland had to ensure that their border footholds were protected.

The Kingdom Guard only protected the major cities within the kingdom. On the borders, adventurers were the true saviors of the common people.

That morning, with the smell of coal dust and rust heavy in the wind, Selena had complained that going to a mining town would make her face dirty. The captain hadn't mocked her germaphobia, only telling her not to worry since they were all veterans.

And Philthali had shown off her Refraction Anchor to give Selena confidence, assuring her that they could escape no matter what.

And if all else failed, there was Nega. Nega was a powerhouse in the healing domain, right?

He had nodded with a sheepish smile.

So Selena had finally found her confidence.

They were a very ordinary adventuring party.

So ordinary that they would recalculate their supplies multiple times for a bit of extra bounty, so ordinary that they would share the last piece of hard bread in the morning, and so ordinary that Philthali always talked about buying a new magic staff once this job was done, while Selena would coldly tell her to first repay the three Silver Moons she owed.

Nega had even laughed back then.

If only he had known...

If only he had said just one more word back then.

Captain, there's something wrong with this quest. We shouldn't take it.

Or even earlier, when the Silvervein City Patrol handed over the royal commission, he should have grabbed Elmelo's vambrace and said he didn't want to go to the borderlands, didn't want to save anyone.

Even if Philthali mocked him for being a coward, even if the captain only patted him on the back and told him not to be afraid.

That would still be better than this.

Better than standing here, using the opening his captain had died to buy him, using Philthali's stolen escape spell, and using the anomaly Selena had been the first to notice, just to lure more people into the Black Gallows.

To say they were dead wasn't entirely accurate. His teammates had been enslaved by that vampire, forced to receive his blood drop by drop right before Nega's eyes, turning into new vampires.

Thump.

The heartbeat deep underground echoed once more.

The quest slip in Nega's hand drooped slightly.

The few people he had lured from afar had already entered the town.

The doors along the street shut silently, and the glass bottles under the eaves swayed gently.

Soon, a brief cry of alarm was cut short by a thread of blood, and the calls for help sank deep into the town.

Nega's eyes remained fixed ahead, his face still wearing that expression of post-rescue gratitude.

He had no right to close his eyes.

The twilight deepened, and the travelers grew fewer.

Though they wouldn't be devoured by the moon as long as they maintained contact, the people of Solitude always feared the night by instinct.

Before the day had fully died, the night had already slipped its hand into people's collars.

The sound of boot heels grinding against wet soil came from behind.

Nega's back straightened automatically.

The reaction came from his blood, the tiny vessels at the back of his head, and the rewritten obedience instinct of this body.

Steward Eno stepped out from the shadows at the entrance of the town.

He still wore his meticulously kept long black coat, his cuffs snowy white, looking as though he had just stepped out of a pristine drawing room rather than walking through blood vessels, a giant heart, and the stench of semi-coagulated corpses. The cold light of dusk fell on his pale profile, making even his faint smile appear polite.

“Thank you for your hard work, Nega.”

Nega's body bowed immediately.

His throat produced a voice of its own: “At your service.”

I'll kill you, bastard.

I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you.

Eno could not hear the futile screaming of his soul. He merely raised a hand to smooth his cuffs, his gaze drifting past the highway outside the town.

“The guests inside the town cannot be touched for now; His Grace the Duke does not like wasting chips,” he said nonchalantly, even though he secretly loathed this restriction. “However, guests outside the town are not on the list.”

A few bats flew down from the beams of the gallows tower, dissolving into a thin mist of blood in his palm.

A fragmented image emerged within the mist.

A lead-gray carriage roof.

A closed carriage.

Heavy wheels rolled over the dirt highway. Two burly men in harnesses were pulling a carriage toward the Black Gallows in the twilight—a vehicle small in scale but clearly modified with high-tier alchemy.

Eno smiled.

“Go greet them,” he said softly. “You know what to do.”

Nega's body had already turned around.

...

It was already dusk, yet they were sending him out to do this.

No, to be blunt, if he could just drag this out, getting vaporized by the moonlight and having his soul taken by a Witch would be better than continuing to be controlled by these monsters.

Nega gripped the receipt and stepped onto the edge of the highway.

He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of wheels.

Indeed, the other party was heading toward the Black Gallows as well.

Nega's body should have walked over immediately, wearing an eager, clean smile.

But when he raised his head with that smile, the moment he saw the carriage clearly, his consciousness momentarily froze.

What... what on earth was that?

It wasn't an ordinary carriage.

People in Solitude didn't have ordinary carriages at all. Even the most basic closed two-person carriage cost one to three Gold Suns, let alone a Night-Redemption Carriage with lead tiles and rune arrays that could travel at night.

Adventurers wouldn't dream of hiring such a thing. Walking hand-in-hand cost absolutely nothing, and at night they could just tie themselves together with a companion leash. Wasn't that far better than wasting Gold Suns?

Yet the alchemy carriage before him...

...was unlike any carriage Nega had ever seen.

Its exterior seemed low-key, but the lead-gray roof sat incredibly secure. The metal buckles along the edges sealed perfectly with the wooden walls. Even amid the vibrations of the wheels, the traction rune slots at the bottom maintained a subtle flow of mana. Moisture-proof silver wires were tucked into the seams, shock-absorbing runes were engraved near the axles, and the Moon-Shading structure was fully integrated into the carriage shell, rather than being some temporary lead plates nailed on.

Such detailed embellishments could only mean one of two things: either there was something extremely important inside, or the owner had done it purely for personal luxury.

Dammit, could his own party have afforded an alchemy carriage like this even if they saved for half their lives?

The lead tiles, blackwood, silver wire, rune slots, axles, and sealed structure—none of these were things a roadside carpenter could slap together.

And the truly expensive part wasn't the materials.

It was the rituals.

Constant temperature, soundproofing, water purification, air circulation, low-tier preservation, shock absorption, moonlight isolation—any single one of these meant hiring alchemists, runewrights, renting ritual rooms, paying for failed attempts, and ongoing maintenance.

Renting a high-grade alchemy lab once cost two Silver Moons just to open the door. Materials easily ran into several Gold Suns per batch, and re-engraving rune arrays, maintaining moonlight protection, stabilizing the carriage, and long-distance maintenance were bottomless pits.

If built by professional alchemists and runewrights, this carriage would cost at least forty to fifty Gold Suns.

Forty to fifty Gold Suns.

Eight hundred to a thousand Silver Moons.

An ordinary family, scraping by month to month, spent their whole lives dealing only in Copper Shells and Silver Moons.

An adventuring party taking on border material harvesting might make a few Gold Suns on a lucky run. On an unlucky one, they would be left with nothing but bills for medicine and gear repairs, and the captain's promise to make it up to them next time.

Even if Elmelo's party saved for years, they might not have been willing to throw all their commission money into a single carriage.

The bizarre thing was, this carriage didn't even have an Alchemy Horse.

Nega's gaze fell upon the two burly men in front.

They were tall and muscular, their shoulders and backs chafed deep red by the harnesses, their steps as heavy as if they were dragging a mine warehouse. Yet judging by their breathing, stride, muscle exertion, and mana fluctuations, they were clearly just strong laborers at the Trainee level. At best, they were slightly sturdier than average farmers or bandits, having not even completed their first formal ascension.

Two trainees who hadn't even stepped into the Transcendent Realm.

Pulling a high-tier alchemy carriage that started at forty to fifty Gold Suns, with ritual maintenance costs that would eat right through an ordinary party's ledger.

Why?

Nega was so struck by this absurd sight that he almost forgot his fear.

Could someone who could afford this carriage really be short on cash for an Alchemy Horse? The cheapest was only twenty-five Gold Suns, and a pricier one was sixty. No matter how expensive a magical beast horse was, it would surely be safer than having two ordinary men pull this carriage into the borderlands.

The carriage was built to such a high standard, yet its draft power looked like something picked up off the side of the road.

It was like someone wearing a noble's protective mage robe to go into a mine, but being too stingy to buy boots, thus walking barefoot over the gravel.

No, it was worse than that.

Because every time those two damaged a rune slot or subjected the carriage to unstable traction, they were potentially breaking actual Gold Suns.

If only our party had a carriage like this...

The moment this thought surfaced, Nega felt as if something was squeezing his heart.

If they had money, they would have better equipment, could buy materials for ascension, and get better guidance to cross the threshold of mid-tier adventurers sooner.

That way, no one would have died, and he wouldn't be standing here.

Maybe they would have just traveled in a carriage like this?

Maybe they would have just complained about the expenses inside the cabin, with Philthali calling the captain a spendthrift, Selena saying they should have bought it long ago, and Nega bowing his head to keep the books, only to realize that after this commission, the party would be so poor they'd have to eat black bread for three months.

How wonderful that would have been.

Even being so poor they had to eat black bread would have been fine.

Even being able to bicker would have been fine.

Even having someone call him a coward would have been fine.

Nega's steps paused for a fraction of a second at the edge of the highway.

Only for a split second.

In the next instant, the command in his blood tightened, and the tiny vessels deep in the back of his head pressed against his spinal cord like icy fingers.

His body automatically took another step forward.

Then, he saw one of the burly men pulling the carriage pull a small vial from his waist.

The liquid inside the vial was deep red.

The fading light of dusk passed through the glass, making the red look like a small glob of coagulated blood. The man tilted his head back and chugged it down. The other man muttered curses as he pulled out a vial of his own, downing it in a single gulp.

In the next breath, their ragged, failing gasps smoothed out.

The scraped skin from the harnesses quickly stopped bleeding, the trembling muscles on their shoulders and backs swelled once more, and their exhaustion was drawn out of their bodies as if by an invisible hand. The two wiped their mouths, bowed their heads, and continued pulling the carriage, their movements even more powerful than before.

Nega's mind went blank.

A recovery potion.

No, it was a recovery effect on par with at least a mid-tier healing potion.

Considering the speed of the wound closure and stamina recovery, it might not even be a standard grade.

A mid-tier healing potion cost five to ten Silver Moons.

A high-tier healing potion cost one to three Gold Suns.

Are... are they drinking that like water?

This was a level of wealth he couldn't comprehend.

That was something a healer like Nega would only be permitted to bring out to save a life after exhausting all his divine arts.

Yet those two carriage-pulling brutes had just downed it.

For what?

Just to restore their stamina for pulling a carriage.

A silent scream erupted from the depths of Nega's soul.

This is absolutely outrageous.

This was a recovery potion!

How dared they?

If you're tired, just rest!

Will you die if the carriage stops for a bit? Will you die if you switch places? Will you die if you unbuckle the harnesses and sit by the roadside to catch your breath for a couple of seconds?