The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 149 Ch.148 Devil's Saliva

"Roland, don't you want to know..."

Shandel Kratov became more and more talkative—she was almost pulled forward by Roland's hand, and she couldn't stop talking.

Passing through the bushes, they entered a 'maze' made of greenery: the plants in the garden were carefully trimmed.

Roland walked quickly.

Someone greeted him along the way.

Wave, whistle, or just stare at him quietly.

The shadow of a man riding a broom flew past his head and disappeared into the darkness. A row of crows stood on the branches, their bloodshot eyeballs following Roland's figure. The staggering zombies slowly approached him, but were soon burned to ashes by the black flames.

His wrist ached.

The pale silver scar gleamed in the moonlight.

Mortal scars.

"This is a ritual that allows people to release their inner addiction."

"The more you lose and the more scars you have, the easier it is to fall into a trap and be unable to extricate yourself."

Roland pulled the cuff down with his teeth, exposing the scar completely.
-
It hurts.

"I guess I know why the Big Bat didn't let Fernandez come in to 'play' with you."

"The higher the level, the more scars a person has."

The zombies behind him were still walking slowly towards him.

Roland didn't want to know what would happen if he was caught by his own 'fantasy'. He turned on his toes and quickly dragged the already 'crazy' Shandel into the fork in the road with bushes as tall as his body.

"Xander Kratofer."

Roland pushed the girl and said in a less gentle tone: "It's not the time we agreed on yet. Once we attract the attention of the cultists, we will have to face at least seven armed enemies..."

Shandel Kratov took a half step back, held his face with his hands and smiled, and turned around in the moonlight.

"Then you should abandon me."

Roland frowned.

Her mind was already in chaos.

"You shall abandon me, forsake me: the heretics shall seize me—by my hands, by my legs, by my neck."

"They suffocated me, made me thrash and twitch..."

At this moment, the merciful Saint Queen tore off the masks of the hypocrites in Eden.

She swatted away the arm of the man who was trying to stop her with one hand, her nails slicing through his flesh.

Then, tasting the blood on her fingers with pleasure, she continued to retreat, with a charming look at the corners of her eyes.

"You abandoned your teammates..."

"Let her perish forever."

"Will you feel sad or regretful?"

"Or, never?"

"You will have to bear this guilt for the rest of your life..."

“It’s not going to be easy!”

The vicious words could not continue.

Snapped--!
A loud slap twisted her face.

It also interrupted the growing madness.

Her neck was roughly strangled and the corners of her mouth were cut open with fingers.

Then, the blazing golden flames burned all the way from the mouth, slid through the esophagus, and poured into the stomach.

Dispelled the coldness all over the body.

Roland held the holy water and pressed her against the thick shrub wall again.

Shandel's confused thoughts gradually calmed down.

Instead, there is a pair of cold and ruthless deserts.

"…I will not feel sad or regretful. Shandel Kratov." The young man looked at her and said calmly: "But you, obviously, have to thank me."

He observed the girl's face, her disheveled clothes, and watched her unfocused pupils gradually focus.

After a few seconds, he gently loosened his hand, walked to a distance with his back to her, changed the holy water, and drank it himself.

The crows, brooms and zombies around gradually faded away, and the faint sounds of talking and playing the piano not far away reappeared.

The two didn't speak for a long time.

Until Shandel Kratov returned to 'normal' again.

“…Thanks, Collins.”

She lowered her head and said, "Thank you."

It's not shameful to not notice your 'change' in time - it's normal for a rookie who is only in the first ring.

But Roland Collins's behavior made her seem particularly "stupid".

Because compared to Roland Collins, she was definitely of "extraordinary background" - a girl with an archbishop as her grandfather was not as good as a "country boy":
She is not sensitive enough to abnormalities, nor does she respond to them quickly enough.

Shandel Kratov…

Not as good as Roland Collins.

This indisputable fact was like a strand of black, thick, malicious poison that spread and grew wildly in her heart.

Then it spread everywhere.

Shandel stared at Roland's back with vicious eyes. He didn't know what he was thinking about, and he licked his lips subconsciously.

Can…

but.

The pain coming from the cheek added a lot of special and indescribable emotions to the poison.

Weird.

Relief and relaxation.

It was as if the plug of a pool filled with sewage was pulled out in one go...

So refreshing...

A strange feeling crept into my heart.

Shandel Kratov gently rubbed his cheek, caressing and kneading it again and again, feeling the layers of trembling like a tide coming from his body and even his soul.

When she began to recall the merciless palm and fierce blow, she could still vaguely remember the warmth of the man's palm, the sound of the wind, the pain and swelling on her face...

And the heart that has always been sour but is suddenly lubricated tonight.

If it wasn't the moonlight that 'comforted' her, then who could it be?
'New world.'

Shandel Kratov laughed silently.

She straightened her torn sleeves and collar, took small steps forward, and stood shoulder to shoulder with the young man who had his back to her.

"Thank you, Roland."

Seeing her put her clothes in order, Roland stopped avoiding her and said, "You have to be careful, Miss Kratov. The holy water should be placed in a place that is most convenient for holding and drawing. This place is not simple... I suspect that there is a ritual going on..."

"My mortal wounds hurt."

Xiandel nodded slightly, facing the moon veil, and looked at the young man.

"Mine too, Roland. We need to speed up. Do you have enough holy water?" She shook her long skirt. "I brought five."

Roland patted his belly and said, "I brought ten."

Seeing his action, Shandel couldn't help but laugh: "...I'm so sorry, I should have restrained myself."

Roland pretended to be angry and poked Shandel with his fingers a few times. He couldn't help but curled his lips with hers: "You have to hope that I don't fall down, otherwise, I'm afraid you won't be able to catch up with me if I roll over."

This made Shandel smile even more happily.

Amidst the laughter, Roland glanced at her slightly flushed cheeks.

"…I have to apologize to you, too, Kratov."

Of course, Shandel knew what he meant.

Then, a hazy mist appeared in the girl's lake blue color.

"We are teammates now, Roland." Shandel moved towards Roland with a smile and gently touched Roland with his shoulder: "In the future, I will save you many times, and you will save me many times - countless thanks and apologies. Do we want such a 'polite' future?"

Roland smiled: "You are right, Kratov."

"Because of my stupidity, we wasted a lot of time... Roland, let's split up and look for him." Shandel pointed in the opposite direction. "We will meet in the main hall in thirty minutes - whether we find Benevento or not."

"Be careful, Kratov."

Shandel smiled: "I will never make the same mistake twice."

Roland nodded: "If you notice something is wrong, drink the holy water immediately. If this is a test, we can't fail at the very beginning."

Shandel smiled and watched Roland's back gradually disappear at the end of the garden.

But he didn't move for a long time.

'A true sacrament...'

She retreated back into the shadows, stroking her cheek, her skirt fluttering, and whispering in a trance.

'Give me more punishment, All-Father...'

'Whip my evil, my sins...'

That enchanting shadow was like a disordered string sound that was filled with extraordinary beauty, struggling and twisting in disorder.

The moonlight is like water, and the eyes are like water.

As the grass leaves swayed, drops of saliva dripped from the devil's mouth.

Sparkling dewdrops.

…………

…In the dark night, the carriage lay quietly under a huge tree.

Table knife cuts bread.

A silver spoon stirred the soup.

Enid Jutia turned her wrist slightly, and the vortex in the soup bowl changed direction.

The leisurely lady ate and drank, calmly facing the two strange gazes from across the small dining table - Fernandez and Crow.

Crow curled up on the sofa with his hands folded, not saying a word; Fernandez was a little restless.

"grown ups…"

Enid pointed to the plate and said, "You can have some. I bought a lot."

Fernandez: ...

It’s not a matter of eating and drinking.

"You let Roland and Kratov go in like this?"

The lady focused on observing the vortex of the soup without looking up. "…otherwise, what else should I give them? I've already warned them that the cultists are dangerous."

Fernandez frowned. "Most of the cultists of the Cradle of Flesh and Blood will use 'that' ritual. Once Roland or Kratov fails to react in time, they will expose their secrets in public. At the same time, they will be discovered by the cultists. They are the ritualists..."

Enid hummed and stirred the soup slowly. "Not if they take the holy water in time."

Fernandez thought to himself, I don’t know this yet?
The problem is that Roland and Kratov, the two rookies, have little experience.

Can they be 'taken in time'?

Once hesitated.

That…that would be a big deal.

Lady Enid, don't you care about Roland very much?

Why not tell him this, and instead let him take the risk without knowing anything?
Fernandez didn't understand.

Enid did something contradictory.

“Trust them, Fernandez.”

Enid put down her spoon, glanced up at the crow, and said to no one:

"One is a man of on-the-spot wit, the other is a man of study. You underestimate true genius, Fernandez. They will definitely be a pair of partners who work well together and complement each other."

Fernandez remains worried.

He was not worried about Shandel Kratov. If the "young lady" didn't have some life-saving magic with her, he would twist off her head and use it as a chair for the crow to sit on.

But Roland Collins…

This guy...

But please don't let anything happen.

"That's how all the executive officers come here, Devinson."

The crow now began to speak up for Enid.

Although he was not happy to see the Inquisition being dragged into the dispute by this woman, he hoped that the organization could regain its "glory" and reproduce the glory of Keshhai's time.

Clearly, Enid was trying to change the rudder, to change direction.

For this reason, he was willing to help Enid 'a little'.

- Whether it is conveying her will to these blood-stained and determined brothers and sisters who stayed behind, or supporting her in some of her decisions.

"Not every executive officer is born with a four-ring leader."

The crow glanced at the stupid bear beside him and said with thorns:
"You're just one step away from wrapping Roland Collins in cotton and cradling him all day long - a swaddled babe? He's the First Ring, the Executioner of the First Ring, the blade of the Inquisition."

"He must be able to deal with various emergencies."

"Like Enid… my Lord said."

The crow lowered his eyes:

"If they deserve these praises - don't forget, when Keshihai was still here, the 'assessment mission' of the prepared executive officer was carried out."

Fernandez thought that was when Keshhai was still there.

"The executors back then dared to kick the nobles' asses and sing at the same time. Can it be the same now?"

Enid frowned as she heard this: "You guys aren't going to sing now?"

Fernandez: ...

crow:……

"Sir, we have experienced too many missions before the first ring, so the 'assessment' is not difficult for us."

Fernandez expressed his concerns to his boss and said in a deep voice:

"But Roland and the girl from the Kratov family, the two of them, combined, have only handled a few official missions. I admit that Roland is smart and brave enough, and he did kill a cultist face to face... but after all, it was a one-on-one fight, and there were people helping him."

"Today, he faces multiple enemies - cultists with guns."

"Once you get flustered and your flaws are discovered..."

Enid smiled, "Fernandez de Winson."

Fernandez subconsciously straightened up and responded, "Sir."

"I approve of your judgment of Roland Collins, but I do not approve of your neglect of his partner."

Enid rested her arm on the table, her chin in her hand, and with her other hand she gently drew aside the purple curtain on the window.

Not far away, the lights are bright.

"I checked the main building, and found a large amount of red wine in the wine cellar."

The woman's whisper sounded like thunder to Fernandez.

Compared to the Path of Crows, Fernandez's "Holy Flame" is more "legitimate" to the Inquisition - plus he has an extremely wide range of friends, often "treats" and is generous, so he knows more secrets than the average person.

He had vaguely heard some rumors about a grand ceremony.

wine…

Fernandez glanced at someone nearby who had a sullen face but pricked up his ears, and did not continue the topic.

"There is something that has been bothering me, and I wonder if you would be willing to give me an answer, my Lord."

He suddenly brought up a question that had been bothering him and Crow for a long time.

This is indeed a good opportunity.

"Why did you make Shandel Kratov the executive officer?"

Hearing Fernandez's words, Crow also looked over.

Enid answered lightly: "It was the Archbishop who proposed it. He proposed that Miss Kratov become an executive officer of the Inquisition."

How can this be?

The two teammates who once fought side by side both showed doubt on their faces.

How is this possible?
An archbishop of the church, 'voluntarily' sent his granddaughter, who could have lived a life of luxury, to this shabby place called the Inquisition, the front line against danger, the most unwelcome and most excluded place, to receive a salary of a few pounds a week?

If he wanted to make his granddaughter an executive officer in order to win over or show favor to Enid Jutia...

Makes sense, but isn't necessary.

Because the church and the blue-blooded nobles are too closely intertwined.

Add to that those who have become 'friends' of their interests and power, those who work in the Inspectorate, those who are hired by gold pounds or precious materials, and even those who are lucky enough to be among the nobles:
There are the "dry bones" of the Ring of Eternal Silence, the "unfading ones" of the Great Whirlpool, the "scales" of the Church of Justice, the "secret scrolls" of the Private Alliance, and even some wandering ritualists who have embarked on the path of non-Crown Gods and have no hope for the future but are extremely obedient...

They never need to curry favor with the Inquisition.

And Gary Kratov, as the man who holds Whitehall in the church.

There is no need to do this.

To be honest, Fernandez thought that if he was the archbishop, based on the previous relationship between the church and the Inquisition - he was not an enemy of Enid Jutia, which would have been considered "friendly".

How could I send my granddaughter here to suffer?
Then.

Could it be because of the 'Supreme One'?

like…

Not right either.

At the time when Shandel Kratov arrived, Lady Enid had obviously not made any 'changes' yet.

This matter has nothing to do with politics.

Why on earth?
"From a standpoint, Gary Kratov should not have anything to do with the Inquisition. It would be the stupidest thing to bet on both sides at the same time. He must know that."

Fernandez asked what was on his mind.

Especially now that the Tribunal has made its choice - Gary Kratov's position becomes even more awkward.

He was in the church, but his granddaughter was in the Inquisition.

"Place a bet?" Enid thought for a moment. "This is very similar to gambling. Fernandez, you've been to an underground casino, right?"

Fernandez nodded. "I'm not interested in those things, but some of my brothers and sisters are very keen on them."

"I want to ask you a question."

The woman stared out the window without looking back.

"Have you ever seen people with extremely bad luck in a casino?"

"Of course, there were those who lost so much that they had to sell their children and wives, or even their own children."

"Have you also seen someone with extremely good luck?"

“I have.” Fernandez nodded, then shook his head: “But this luck won’t last long.”

"If," Enid raised her index finger and tapped her face lightly, "If someone always wins..."

Fernandez said with certainty: "Then he must have cheated."

Enid chuckled, "Yeah."

"Only a fool would rely on luck..."

(End of this chapter)