The Holy Man of Another Century Gospel

Chapter 162 Evil Man
Eric's decision to spend the Lunar New Year in Tallinn wasn't just about enjoying the festivities; there were also more practical considerations.

On the second day of the new year, the three arrived at the workshop of the elven craftsman master Mason and found it was indeed open for business, which relieved Eric slightly.

Molly glanced at him. "I already said that the New Year is just the New Year. It's already the second day. How could they still be closed?"

"I thought elves would be a little different."

Eric walked into the artisan's workshop and greeted Mason, who had already noticed them.

“‘Happy New Year’? Mr. Eric, that’s quite a unique greeting. But if it’s a custom in your hometown, then I wish you a Happy New Year as well.”

Mason knew why Eric had come, so he led them directly to the showroom filled with forged artifacts, then took down one of the silver-gray longswords and handed it to Eric.

【Longsword Amidst the Mist】

The longsword, crafted by the elven master craftsman Mason in imitation of the weapon of Amos, a general of the ancient Second Kingdom of Serai, still embodies the excellence of ancient design.

"I will end the Dark Ages."

Additional skill: Mist
【Smoke】: Makes the weapon in your hand disappear from sight for a short time.

Eric took the newly crafted weapon and tried it out.

This sword was slightly longer and heavier than the Aylan steel sword, but the difference was not significant. He swung it a few times and quickly got used to it.

He found the blueprints two months ago in a dungeon outside the ruins of the ancient battlefield, and then asked Mason to forge them. Although the Aran Steel Sword was still usable, it was no longer keeping up with his rapidly growing strength, and he would have to replace it sooner or later, so he might as well get a weapon that he remembered.

Deep fog!

Eric activated the skill on his weapon, and the longsword in his hand suddenly disappeared, completely out of sight, although he could still feel the coldness in his hand.

Elise and Molly both stared wide-eyed, the latter even reaching out to try and feel for his transparent blade in the air.

"Don't move." Eric told her not to touch it to avoid accidentally hurting herself, and handed her the sword.

"Wow." Molly instinctively pulled her hand back.

Seeing that Elise was staring at him silently, Eric had no choice but to let her reach out and feel it too.

The transparent, cool blade pressed against her palm, and she couldn't help but exclaim in amazement, "It can actually be completely transparent..."

Mason watched from the side, a hint of pride on his face. "While the design of this sword is ingenious, it would be difficult to find a craftsman who could fully embody its exquisite craftsmanship during forging. Mr. Eric, it is our good fortune to know each other."

Eric smiled. "I've always thought so."

Otherwise, what do you think my buddy was trying to gain favor with by using ten whole barrels of gray-patterned mithril?

The fogged state only lasted for a short while, and the sword quickly reappeared in their sight.

Eric was already quite satisfied with this; in actual combat, even a momentary disappearance was enough to change the outcome of the battle.

He sheathed his sword and thanked Mason once again.

“Human life is short, Mr. Eric. I’m glad to have met you when you were still young. I hope we can still meet often for the next hundred or eighty years.” The wood elf extended his hand to him.

Nineteen years old is still young... although that's true according to the lifespan of elves.

Eric grasped his hand. "I hope my bloodline will grant me a long enough life."

Leaving the artisan's workshop, Eric removed his original weapon, the Aran steel sword, and handed it to the real Aran.

"You can keep this sword."

Elise took the Aran steel sword, her hand tracing its blade, her expression complex. "Is it just for me to hold, or is it given to me?"

“It’s yours now,” Eric said.

Elise smiled faintly and accepted the Aran steel sword.

She had her own weapon, and Eric gave her this sword more as a collectible.

"Are we going back to the ancient battlefield today?" she asked.

Eric inhaled the cold air outside, exhaling it as white mist. "Let's go back. There's no festive atmosphere at all. There's no point in staying any longer. Let's go back."

Back at the inn, the three mounted their horses and left Tallinn, heading back to North Town the next day.

Elise and Molly returned to the inn first, while Eric stopped in front of Max's tavern to begin recruiting teammates for their next adventure.

Over the past six months, for various reasons, his face has become familiar to many people. As soon as he appears here, all eyes are drawn to him, with varying expressions.

"Eric, you've changed your weapon?" Max, the tavern owner, was one of the few people who dared to greet him first.

"Hmm, the adventurer's neck is too stiff. It dulled my sword. I'll have to get a new one."

Many people's expressions changed.

Max laughed, "Don't scare my guest away."

Eric glanced around and raised his voice: "Those who haven't been scared away yet, remember to spread the word for me: Eric is recruiting new teammates at Max's tavern, planning to delve into the ancient battlefield. Anyone who's not afraid to die can come find me. Random exploration, spoils split equally, no one below rank 5." "Your two female teammates are only rank 4," someone chimed in.

“So we can’t have any more dragging our feet.” Eric retorted, unfazed. “Green, aren’t you coming?”

The man who had spoken immediately shook his head. "Although I believe you are a good person, too many people have gone astray with you and never returned. Don't drag me down with you."

“New year, new beginnings.” Eric sat down. “No one has died at my hands this year.”

Green shook his head even faster. "Then I definitely can't be the first one."

Eric didn't bother to say anything more to him and continued to wait for someone who wasn't afraid of death.

The mixed reputations of the three of them—especially his—made the ordinary task of recruiting adventure companions difficult and complicated.

While honest adventurers may not be able to discern the truth of the rumors, they will try to avoid adventuring with him for the sake of their own lives. This results in him recruiting a group of people who are willing to risk their lives for money. Such people often choose to betray him during the adventure due to their greed, forcing Eric to kill them and further exacerbating the vicious cycle.

“That’s how reputations are here.” Max brought him some snacks. “If you don’t appreciate it at first, the price to make up for it later will be much higher.”

"Do I still have a chance to salvage this?" Eric asked casually.

Max shrugged. "Unless all the undead cavalry from the ruined city rush out and attack Northtown, and you take them all out by yourself."

Eric sighed, "It would be simpler to just wipe out everyone in town."

Several adventurers who were about to approach him turned and left upon hearing this.

Max clicked his tongue. "Knowing his reputation is bad, he still likes to say things like that... Young man."

Eric didn't say anything, but simply put a piece of chewy, multi-flavored jerky into his mouth, savoring the various flavors released as he chewed.

"If I really can't find anyone, I'll just have to go somewhere else. Besides North Town, there's West Town and South Town, but nobody there knows me."

Max returned to his original spot and stood there. "But all the capable people have come to North Town. Once you get there, I'm afraid you'll look down on them even more."

Eric fell silent, and after a while, he spat out a clump of meat scraps.

"Max, your jerky tastes worse."

"Haven't you gotten into a bad mood?"

By evening, Eric still hadn't found a reliable teammate and had to return to the hotel.

This is common; the closer the exploration target is to the depths of the ancient battlefield, the more difficult it is to assemble an adventure team, and it is normal to not be able to find anyone for three to five days.

The next day, no one was there.

On the third day, there was still no one.

On the fourth day, Elise and Molly also came with him to recruit teammates.

In the afternoon, a group of guards escorted a young man to Max's tavern. The young man immediately said, "I'd like to find a few experienced adventurers to take me to the depths of the ancient battlefield. I'll give each of them twenty gold coins. Is anyone willing to do this?"

This guy looks like a spoiled nobleman who's never seen the world before. He's come to the ancient battlefield looking for excitement. He can get twenty gold coins just by going in and taking a look. There are plenty of people willing to do that.

There were plenty of people who responded, until they saw the three thugs stand up.

The young man's eyes lit up when he saw Molly, and then when he saw Elise, they lit up again. Finally, his gaze fell on Eric's face, and his eyes practically shone, especially after the guard beside him quietly told him that this man had at least the strength of a sixth-level cultivator—this was exactly the state he had always dreamed of being!
"I am Boas. What are your names?"

“Eric, Elise, Molly,” Eric introduced them one by one. “We’ve been deep into the ancient battlefield more times than anyone else here. If you want to go in for sightseeing, there’s no one more suitable than us.”

The tavern was almost full, but no one could argue with that at that moment.

"We'll take you," the young man said, handing them sixty gold coins on the spot. "When do we go in?"

Eric raised an eyebrow, took the gold coin, and casually handed it to Elise. "Now you can."

"Okay, let's set off now."

A group of people came and went in a hurry, taking the three plague gods with them. The tavern was quiet for a while, then quickly became noisy again.

"Oh no, Eric got another big one."

"How could that be? That kid has so many guards with him, we won't fall into his hands."

"Wanting those guards to their deaths is easy, right? Once they're in the ancient battlefield, he'll deliberately leave some openings, let them experience a few close calls, and all he has to do is tell that kid, 'I'm experienced, you have to listen to me,' and that kid will be guaranteed to obey his commands..."

"I have a lot of experience, you have to listen to me."

Eric slashed down several small ghouls that kept rushing towards him with a few sword strikes, then turned to look at the young nobleman who was almost paralyzed with fear. "We're already deep in the ancient battlefield. Your reckless rampage is no different from suicide."

"Okay, okay..." the latter nodded repeatedly, "You will all follow Eric's orders!"

All the guards responded, and Eric remained expressionless, but a slight smile curved his lips.

That makes things much easier.

(End of this chapter)