It's been a month now, and the hunt for that terrorist is still in full swing. You can see squad after squad of guards searching everywhere on the streets. Posters with his picture have been put up at every street corner, and people are talking about him nonstop. Some say he's an enemy spy, some say he's a new breed of beastman, and others say he's a cultist from the Death Spirit Society.

  Ah Sa followed Old Master Shan and a few vegetable vendors to gather in front of the butcher's shop, listening to the boss talk about how the evil cultist drew symbols with his hands, shouted loudly, and the people in the prison suddenly lost their heads and blood flowed like rivers. Several vegetable vendors whispered to each other, agreeing to go to the church together to ask for holy water to protect themselves.

  "Holy water must be sprinkled on the body, it's most effective on underwear." Old Sandru said to several vegetable vendors.

  A patrol of Guards and Assas passed close by, a few even casting curious glances his way.

  It was just a glance. Even Asa didn't dare to look at himself in the mirror for too long. His current face looked like a wax mask that had been melted by fire and then re-solidified, with pockmarked and oily flesh tumors all over it, his facial features twisted and distorted into a mess, even his eyes were pulled askew. Even a half-beast or a big-eared monster would be ten times more handsome than him.

  It was just a mask, of course. A very good one, with pores and blood vessels visible on the moles, and it even felt like real skin when you touched it. Sandru's craftsmanship was excellent, and Asa didn't feel any discomfort wearing it, but he wasn't quite brave enough to ask what it was made of.

  He hunched his back, slung a pack over it, limped along the road, and donned an old long coat that completely enveloped him - a getup entirely in keeping with his appearance. After trailing Sandru through the streets for two days, people on several of the streets became familiar with him and knew he was Sandru's hunchbacked helper.

  The old man, Sandru, was actually a member of the Magic Academy, and that large house full of corpses also belonged to the Magic Academy. This somewhat surprised Asa. Even in his hometown of Kalindo, when miners and blacksmiths who indulged in cheap wine and prostitutes mentioned the Magic Academy, they would show a respectful expression. It was the most important institution of the Church, and in many people's minds, it was almost equivalent to the center of the Church, where magic was studied, and priests and magicians were trained. Mentioning the royal family or other military affairs to ordinary civilians felt like an empty concept, far less interesting than street rumors. But once they were injured or had a guilty conscience, it was the priests from the Magic Academy who provided help. Therefore, in the minds of ordinary people, it was a sacred and noble place.

  But just like even the most sacred-looking woman is still human and will go to the toilet, a magic academy that wants to study healing magic has to study the human body, so it needs a place specifically for storing corpses.

  Of course, considering the sanctity of the church, such research is only conducted quietly when absolutely necessary, and such a place cannot be found within the Magic Academy. The large house was built in a secluded corner on the west side of the city, and the only living things inside were Azah and old Sandru.

  Sander's old man's job was actually just to keep and classify various organs and limbs, with plenty of free time, sometimes even going to the market. But generally, he liked to play with corpses, such as reassembling different parts of several people into a human shape, using some inexplicable magic on the corpse, cutting an organ into dozens of small pieces, soaking them in dozens of different medicines and so on. This was a very corpse-consuming hobby, so Sander had a good relationship with the city guards and wardens, and as soon as there were unimportant or unclaimed corpses, they would immediately sell them to him for a few copper coins. Asa's job was to move things around, assist in dissecting corpses, chopping up organs, buying daily necessities at the market, and solving the two men's food and drink problems.

  The big house was normally never approached by anyone. But apart from the three wild cats nearby, every two or three days there would also be a guest. It was an old man, wearing a black robe, with sunken cheeks that seemed to have never eaten a full meal in his life, and dark circles under his eyes, as if he had never slept well, every time it was at night to find Sandru. Whenever this happened, Sandru would let Asa go into the small house inside to read books by himself. The two old men lit candles in the big house filled with corpses and organs, chatting until midnight.

  Two months ago, I watched from the mountain top in the western wilderness as my entire unit was annihilated, then I was hunted down by beastmen and nearly had my head twisted off in the Lizard Swamp... After that, I came to the capital city, where for some inexplicable reason I became the most notorious fugitive in the entire city... Now, I'm in a huge mansion filled with corpses, keeping company with an eccentric old man who's messing around with dead bodies. Even thinking about what's happened over this period of time makes me feel like it's unbelievable.

  It's perfectly possible to slip away unnoticed while Shan De Lu is not paying attention, and with this mask and his current fame in the city, he can definitely pass through unimpeded. But he never did so.

  There are many reasons why he didn't run away, for example, learning magic was his unattainable wish since childhood. There were not a few books about magic in Sandru's house. And he was waiting here for the arrival of Brakada's caravan to bring back Little Yi. This seemed to be the only turning point in this predicament now. The Duke's 'execute on the spot' order didn't even give him a chance to clear himself, let alone that he had no idea what it was all about. The only hope was to wait for her return and see if she could clarify the misunderstanding.

  A Sa always thought that the Duke would be wanted because of some misunderstanding between him and Xiao Yi. Now, he can only guess so under the current circumstances.

  But none of these are the most important things. He never ran away because Asa didn't think there was anything wrong with this strange life at present.

  It's been about two months since that bloody and brutal night, now living surrounded by corpses and organs doesn't even feel disgusting.

  It was probably in the lizard swamp that I almost died countless times, and now looking at the search troops all over the street doesn't make me feel tense at all. Sometimes when I see a team of young soldiers working so hard for me, I even feel a kind of inexplicable affection for them, wanting to go up to them, ask them to sit down at a street stall and have something to eat, and advise them not to waste their energy anymore.

  He's probably used to being around corpses, so he treats people like they're dead, without any qualms. He never asks about Asa, not even his name; anyway, there are only two living beings in the big house, and when someone speaks up, it's clear who they're talking to. On the other hand, Sandru has given names to the three wild cats that often come into the big house looking for food. The two of them seem like old friends who have long since exhausted their curiosity about each other.

  More importantly, his daily study of magic and meditation absorbed all his energy. Every day he could feel himself making progress. From the simplest hemostasis to true restoration, from the most basic use of two fingers to ignite a candle, to being able to cook a fish with bare hands.

  He also found a dusty book from behind the bookshelf of old man Sandru. The pages were made of a kind of leather, very ancient but not damaged at all. This was a strange book, which recorded an astonishing number of magic and various skills related to magic, anecdotes. However, except for the catalog and the first chapter about meditation methods, they were written in a text that Asa didn't recognize. Asa didn't ask Sandru, he just practiced meditation every day according to the method written in the first article that he could understand.

  Every day was like this, learning, practicing, and meditating. He had been fully immersed in this life of constant progress since he was five years old, and for him, this way of living was the most serene and peaceful. Everything was so natural, without any tension or intentionality. Asa unknowingly spent a month in this dull life filled with corpses and pursuits.

  A dull life always makes one's mood relaxed, and after a long time, people's feelings seem to have thoroughly melted into every detail of this life, no longer thinking about any fluctuations or changes. However, he also knows that this is not possible, after all, some things cannot be ended like this, and he cannot inexplicably become a fugitive for the rest of his life, nor can he live in the shadows forever. Although there seems to be no danger now, what he cannot tolerate most is being restricted by something.

  And even more so, he couldn't let so many people die in vain on the mountain tops of the western wilderness. With a strange intuition, Asa vaguely felt that what he reported at the Duke's mansion hadn't really reached where it should have reached.

  "Hey, let's go, what are you staring at?" Old Shandru handed him a package of things he had bought. Asa took the things and followed with his head down, limping along.

  That night, Asa was attracted by the light that had seeped in from outside the window after his reverie and walked out of the big house to see the second brightest full moon he had ever seen in his life.

  It's been exactly two months since I last saw that mountain in the western wilderness. The same soft yet dazzling moon, with no stars daring to sweep across the sky. This moonlight brought back Asa's memories of that night, reliving the massacre.