Logan Bennett listened carefully and found that he could still faintly hear the sound of crying. But why couldn’t anyone else hear it?

Benjamin Wright showed no sign of surprise and said calmly to Logan Bennett, “There is indeed a vengeful spirit.”

Clearly, he had heard the crying as well.

The four guards nodded in agreement, indicating that they had also heard it.

Chapter Four: Red Eyes

Benjamin Wright glanced at Logan Bennett, maintaining his uniquely graceful pace as he slowly walked toward the ruins of the witch’s hut. His voice was low and gentle: “Evil sorcerers always like to toy with the minds and senses of good people, especially on nights illuminated by the silver moon. However, that witch had not yet obtained truly terrifying evil powers—her magic could usually only affect one or two people.”

At first, Logan Bennett was confused, but after Benjamin Wright finished speaking, he understood that he was explaining why only he could hear the crying, while the nearby residents remained sound asleep. Even if awakened and listening carefully, they would hear nothing.

Without giving Logan Bennett a chance to speak, Benjamin Wright extended his gloved hands and continued, “As for myself and the four church guards, we are blessed by the Lord, which is why we can hear this evil sound.”

The four guards walking ahead and behind, upon hearing this, immediately made the sign of the cross on their chests and shouted in unison:

“Only truth endures.”

With this shout, their spirits became slightly more excited.

The residents of the slums watching from afar also prayed softly, “Only truth endures.”

Then they whispered among themselves, “This is the power of the gods—truly worthy of the esteemed priest.”

Amid the faint sounds of praise, Benjamin Wright’s face, with its unique curve, grew even more solemn and dignified. He slowly spread his gloved hands and uttered a strange, short syllable in a low voice:

“Paso.”

As soon as the brief, urgent syllable ended, a faint white glow enveloped the entire ruins of the hut, as if the silver moon in the sky had cast down waves of light.

Within the white glow, on a broken wall connecting the ruins to Logan Bennett’s house, a strange blood-red mark appeared, forming the shape of an entrance.

Under the influence of this mysterious incantation and divine magic, Logan Bennett and the surrounding poor were equally shocked, their emotions surging. However, while the others felt mostly awe and intoxication, Logan Bennett’s feelings were a mix of fear and deep yearning.

Benjamin Wright withdrew his hands and gave an order to the guard in front of him: “Gary Miller, that is the secret door. There are no magical traps. Go and open it.”

Gary Miller straightened his chest, the chainmail on his body clinking with the sound of metal plates striking each other. “Yes, Lord Benjamin Wright.”

As Gary Miller and another guard walked over, the sharp-eared Logan Bennett overheard Benjamin Wright mutter under his breath, “Those arrogant fools from the Inquisition, all they know is ‘detect magical traps’—can’t they learn ‘detect secret doors’? Hmph, just because it’s only a magic apprentice, they’re so negligent?”

With the guidance of divine magic, Gary Miller showed off his powerful muscles and, with a few strong pushes, knocked down the broken wall.

Then, another guard drew his longsword, shouted, and struck down hard, smashing a mechanism and revealing a black hole in the corner of the wall.

The opening was not large—only big enough for one person to pass through. As the wind blew, a foul stench wafted from the hole. Benjamin Wright frowned slightly, covering his nose and mouth with his gloved right hand, while Logan Bennett nearly gagged and unconsciously took two steps back.

Gary Miller peered carefully into the hole, then ran over. “Lord Benjamin Wright, this passage leads to the sewers.”

Benjamin Wright looked at Gary Miller, his golden eyebrows furrowed, his mouth and nose seeming a bit distorted from being pressed together. His voice became muffled: “Are you sure?”

“Yes, if you look down at an angle, you can see a section of the sewer,” Gary Miller replied with certainty.

Benjamin Wright said nothing. As a noble and elegant priest, a member of the honored Lafati family with a long lineage, just thinking about the filth and stench inside the sewers made him uncomfortable all over. Among the divine spells he had mastered and constructed as soul imprints, there was no “Purification” spell. To cast it, he would need to use incantations, gestures, and spell components together. And no one knew where in the sewers the secret room was—how many purification spells would be needed along the way?

“Well, it’s just a magic apprentice. As long as he carries the Holy Emblem of Truth, there shouldn’t be any problem.” Benjamin Wright thought indifferently. Then he looked at Logan Bennett, relaxed his right hand, and his voice regained its dignified gentleness: “You have kept company with the witch, so your body must be tainted by evil forces. You need atonement to be cleansed. But your devotion to the Lord has moved me, so I will lend you my holy emblem. If you can purify the evil power left by the witch, you will once again receive the Lord’s blessing. Go, Logan Bennett, serve the Lord—His gaze will be upon you.”