Wandering Swordsman |

Baron Mason and Adrian exchanged bewildered glances, their faces turning from red to white.

The father's eyes were filled with shock and confusion, while the son's heart was churning with even more complex emotions—if those two were imposters…why did they save me? Why didn't they take my life? Why did they risk being burned at the stake to do such a great act of kindness?

For a moment, neither of them knew how to respond.

The gratitude was genuine, and the miracles were vivid in their eyes; yet the words of the papal envoy were like ironclad law, leaving no room for doubt.

Augustine, noticing their hesitation, immediately pressed, "Where are those two now?"

Baron Mason's throat bobbed as he struggled internally.

He recalled the assassination attempt last night, Hua Tianyou's hidden figure protecting him, and Shen Mo's silent yet decisive action in helping to expel the poison... Finally, he lowered his eyes, his voice low but firm: "They... have already set off westward. Their destination... we haven't inquired further."

Augustine's eyes narrowed, and he immediately turned around: "Quickly! Get an artist! Quickly sketch their likenesses!"

Moments later, the two artists were urgently summoned to the scene.

Based on Adrian and Baron Mason's descriptions, the charcoal pencil flew across the paper, and two portraits quickly took shape—Hua Tianyou, his silver robe warm and smooth, his features exquisite; Shen Mo, his black robe cold and aloof, his eyes deep as the sea.

Augustine took the scroll, his fingers trembling slightly. He recognized that look—a calmness that was not of the Papacy's nature, almost divine.

"If these two are not angels incarnate, then... they are evil fiends and false saints!" he muttered, then rolled up the portrait and strode towards the door. "Your Excellency, excuse me, but I will return to the diocese immediately and report to the Cardinals! This matter concerns the dignity of the Papacy and must not be tolerated!"

The sound of horses' hooves rang out again, even more urgently than before.

Augustine's figure quickly disappeared outside Silvermane City, leaving the entire city in awe.

Inside the hall, Adrian finally couldn't contain himself any longer and said urgently, "Father! We must send men to catch up with them immediately! Notify the towns along the way—those two men have our letters of introduction. If they continue to impersonate missionaries, the Mason family will be implicated once the truth comes out! A century of good reputation will be ruined in an instant!"

His eyes were filled with anxiety: "They saved me out of kindness, but if they use that kindness to deceive the world, we'll be their accomplices!"

Baron Mason slowly raised his hand to stop his son.

He looked out the window—where the morning light was gently bathing the spires of Silvermane City.

"No." His voice was low, yet as firm as a rock. "We can't do that."

He turned and gazed at Adrian, his eyes gleaming with a clarity born of experience: "Child, if they were truly evil, they could have let you die at the hands of the assassins last night, or even taken your life themselves. Why bother with this 'miracle'? If they were after money, gold and jewels would have been readily available; if they wanted power, you have already promised a generous reward. But they asked for nothing, only to leave quickly."

He paused, then said, word by word, "True evil never saves anyone; while true good, even if cloaked in lies, deserves to be remembered."

"If we turn against them now and inform them of this, that would be true ingratitude! That would truly tarnish the 'righteousness' passed down through the Mason family!"

Adrian was stunned, and after a long while, he slowly lowered his head.

He suddenly understood—what his father was protecting was not only the family's reputation, but also the indelible sense of morality in people's hearts.

In the distance, Hua Tianyou and Shen Mo's figures had already blended into the horizon where the earth met the sky.

No one knows whether they are gods or demons, but Silvermane City knows—they once brought hope and light to Silvermane City.

......

After leaving Silvermane City, Shen Mo and Hua Tianyou maintained their disguise as "church missionaries," wearing black robes and silver shirts, and galloped across the wasteland.

The wind and sand grew heavier in the northwest, the withered grass was sharp as blades, and the sky was gray and yellow, as if the earth was brewing a silent storm.

After six days of travel, both men and horses were exhausted.

At noon on the seventh day, the two had just crossed a low hill when they suddenly heard the sounds of metal clashing and warhorses neighing from ahead. The sounds were not those of ordinary drills, but rather those of carnage—swords cleaving, bones cracking, arrows whistling through the air, and the agonizing screams of the dying mingled into a cacophony of hellish sounds.

The two reined in their horses atop a high slope and squinted as they gazed into the distance.

Below, on the plain at the valley entrance, two cavalry units clad in identical black-scaled heavy armor and wearing eagle-beak helmets were locked in fierce combat. Their banners fluttered in the wind, and the embroidered patterns on them were exactly the same.

However, one side had a large number of soldiers and high morale; the other side had been defeated and routed, their formation in complete disarray, their armor stained with blood, and countless warhorses lying on the ground.

"Strange..." Shen Mo frowned slightly and whispered, "The same military flag, the same standard armor, how could they kill each other?"

Before the words were even finished, the commander of the losing side was already surrounded by his personal guards and broke through the encirclement, with the defeated soldiers following closely behind.

The man was covered in blood, his left arm armor was shattered, revealing a deep, bone-revealing knife wound.

He glanced back at the pursuers, his eyes filled with resentment and anger. Then, he spurred his horse and galloped towards the direction where Shen Mo and the other man were!

Seeing this, the pursuing troops immediately dispatched more than ten elite riders, who pounced on their prey like wolves, raining arrows down on the retreating army.

"They're coming towards us." Hua Tianyou said calmly, but he had already quietly pressed his hand on the short staff at his waist—the sword he had disguised as a papal scepter.

The defeated general rushed forward, suddenly pulled on the reins, and his warhorse reared up, kicking up a cloud of dust.

His gaze swept over Shen Mo and Hua Tianyou's attire like lightning, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. He then lowered his voice and said urgently, "You two... run! This place is no place to stay!"

After speaking, he did not linger. With a wave of his hand, the remaining troops swept past the two like a tidal wave, stirring up clouds of yellow dust.

Shen Mo glanced at Hua Tianyou, a hint of doubt in his eyes: "This doesn't seem like a typical internal conflict. Every move is deadly; they clearly intend to kill each other."

Hua Tianyou nodded slightly, his voice gentle yet cold: "This is a purge of power within the territory of the far west. The defeated general was most likely a minister or one of his sons in the territory."

"So how should we...pretend we didn't see it?" Shen Mo asked.

"Exactly," Hua Tianyou said calmly. "The Vatican's envoys do not get involved in worldly disputes; this is the rule, and also their talisman."

Just as the two were about to turn their horses around and take a detour, they suddenly heard the sound of pursuing soldiers' hooves closing in from behind!

"Stop!" A sharp shout tore through the sandstorm.

The leader of the pursuers reined in his horse and stopped in front of the two men. His gaze swept over them like that of a hawk, lingering for a moment on the forged "holy emblem" on Hua Tianyou's chest. He sneered, "Two fake missionaries? You've got some nerve."

Hua Tianyou remained calm and cupped his hands, saying, "We are special envoys dispatched by the Holy See to preach in the Tsarist Empire. We are just passing through this place and have not participated in your internal affairs."

"A holy envoy?" the general scoffed. "Not long ago, the Viscount executed three fake missionaries!"

Having said that, he waved his hand: "Take him down! Bring him back to the city for further interrogation!"

Shen Mo and Hua Tianyou exchanged a glance, both reading helplessness in each other's eyes.

It wasn't that they were afraid of fighting—with the abilities of the two of them, annihilating these dozen or so riders would be a matter of a snap of the fingers.

However, revealing our strength here would not only disrupt our original plans, but also attract the attention of major powers in the far west, which would be detrimental to our journey to the Tsarist Empire.

"Let's go," Hua Tianyou said softly.

The next instant, the two men simultaneously spurred their horses around, flicked the reins, and their steeds shot off like arrows into the nearby wilderness. The pursuers roared and fired arrows, which rustled as they embedded themselves in the tree trunks, but neither of them even touched the hem of their clothes.

The sandstorm raged again, and the yellow dust obscured their figures.