Super Righteous Player
Chapter 61 - 60 The Killing Intent from Three Sides_1

Chapter 61: Chapter 60 The Killing Intent from Three Sides_1

In the very center of Roth Fort there lies that sharply built castle, drenched in deep red when seen from the outside.

Its name is also Roth Fort.

It looks like a broken sword, steadfastly pointing toward the sky, covered in the fresh blood of evil dragons.

In the common tongue, "Roth" means "broken sword" or "heirless." Moreover, it also has the connotation of a eunuch’s condition.

But ironically... it seems Roth Fort’s current holder is indeed on the brink of extinction.

The current old Viscount had, in fact, resumed his position for the third time.

Now over eighty years old, he was swiftly approaching ninety.

Forty-five years ago, he had passed on the position of castle lord to his eldest son—his only son. Unfortunately, seven years later, he died on top of a woman, and so the viscounty had come full circle back to the old Viscount.

Luckily, at that time, he was still relatively young.

A year after his son’s death, he had a late-life child and gained another son, Allen Barber. When his son turned twenty-four, he once again passed on his title and the position of castle lord to him.

...Even more unfortunate, seven years later, his second son also died suddenly. This time, he perished in his own study, leaving the old Viscount unsure of whom to blame.

And by that time, Viscount Alvin Barber was already eighty-two years old.

Even with the force of spells to keep the old horse in the stable, he was certain that his legacy would yield nothing.

—The silver lining in his misfortune, however, was that his youthful second son had not died without an heir.

The year Allen died abruptly, his wife was already pregnant. A year later, she gave birth to a baby boy and then passed away from complications during childbirth.

Now, old Alvin’s grandson was about to turn six.

Born without a father or a mother, his only blood relative was his grandfather—the old Viscount Alvin. Perhaps due to being born prematurely, Alvin’s grandson was also frail and sickly, often confined to his bed.

Roth Fort was about to become a true "Broken Sword Fort."

"Tan Juan?"

The old man repeated the messenger’s words, his voice murky and weak, "He’s coming to Roth Fort... why?"

He was a tall and gaunt elder with very sparse silver-gray hair that was meticulously groomed. A circlet adorned with tiny gems rested on his head.

What stood out most were his hollow, deep-set eyes that seemed too profound to be fully perceived at a glance. His cloudy eyes were set within, sunken downward like a moon obscured by dark clouds.

Compared to his slender frame, the comfortable leather chair looked much too large. He appeared not so much sitting in it as helplessly slumped upon it.

Standing behind Alvin’s chair was a tall, somewhat burly bald man.

He appeared to be in his early thirties. On his right hand, he wore three bronze rings of varying sizes and designs, and around his own neck hung a hefty bronze necklace—to call it a necklace seemed less accurate than a heavy dog chain.

Although he resembled a personal guard or an underground boxer, in reality, his role was that of the Barber family’s butler.

Yes, he was Justin Knecht.

A curse hunter.

"I smell Transcendents, my lord,"

Justin Knecht said in a low voice, "Two of them, both bronze-tier. They aren’t carrying any powerful cursed items."

His voice was deep and sonorous, conveying a sense of utter steadiness and reliability.

"Oh, it seems our little Crow has brought reinforcements. Not simple at all."

Alvin Barber laughed silently to himself, "Indeed, just like his father.

"Right, you—repeat it. How many of them are there, and how soon will they enter the city?"

He sat in his chair, tilting his head slightly and hunching his back as he gazed at the kneeling messenger, speaking slowly.

Alvin always kept his head lowered. Lifting it was a significant strain on his neck... he could no longer raise his head on his own, his arms and legs thin as matchsticks.

The young messenger shivered under the gaze of the old noble who had witnessed the reign of three, soon to be four, generations of rulers.

"They—they number twenty-two, my lord. They should already be entering the city now..."

The messenger stammered out the words.

Just being under old Alvin’s gaze made him feel a chill down his spine.

"Then go and invite them."

"...What?"

"I say, do you not understand what it means to invite them here as guests?"

Old Alvin chuckled hoarsely, his voice raspy and tone calm as he spoke, "Right, only invite two... no, three people. Allow that little bird with the blue eyes to bring just two guards, and he selects the personnel himself—got it?"

"...Yes, my lord."

The young messenger hesitated for a moment before quickly replying.

Although he was still confused about some parts of the vague instruction—like what to do with the remaining people and when they should make their entrance—he knew now was not the time to ask such questions.

He clearly sensed that Old Alvin was eager to dismiss him, so he promptly took his leave.

After his departure, Old Alvin slightly turned his head and hissed, "Justin."

"Present."

"Go... and inform our guest."

Old Alvin spoke slowly, enunciating each word in a soft voice, "Also, invite him to the dinner feast, tell him it’s time to discuss our partnership in earnest. The moment has come for him to demonstrate his commitment... and to give him a big surprise as a gift."

"I wouldn’t recommend doing that, my lord."

Justin spoke frankly, bluntly refusing, "If they start a fight, I might not be able to protect you.

"Among the two Transcendents who’ve just entered the city, one bears a curse so potent I suspect he’s the Tower’s Child. He must bear a grudge against Wizard Gerald. And he himself is a transformative wizard—not to mention you... If conflict breaks out, the whole of Roth Fort could be in jeopardy."

"Why protect me?"

Yet Old Alvin merely eyed him strangely, laughing with a hoarse voice, "I invited them to the feast, not that I have to be in attendance. Is it their wedding? Do I, as an elder, need to pay homage to them?"

"You mean... "

"After you’ve informed that guest, take the child with you. We’ll stay at the estate on the outskirts of the city tonight. Make sure to leave a guard detail and the servants here; the banquet must not lack in style. Whichever of them dies will be a good riddance, best if they both suffer... then you can finish them off. If one is seriously injured and the other in good shape, we’ll temporarily side with the victor.

"As for Roth Fort..."

At that point, the old man’s eyes revealed a trace of disgust.

He fiercely tapped the armrest with his coarse, bent fingers, whispering coldly,

"—a pile of broken stones is no loss."

Meanwhile, at number 13 Xiushui Street, Gerald’s Dental Clinic.

A young man, with a gentle smile and an ordinary appearance, suddenly lifted his head, furrowing his brows as he sniffed the air, his expression changing subtly.

Yet his hands continued their work efficiently, deftly extracting a tooth from his patient below and discarding it into a small box beside him. He then took out a packet of spices and stuffed it into the tooth socket.

"Eat porridge for the next three days and avoid eating anything too hot."

He advised softly, taking the money and smiling as he bid farewell to his patient.

The young dentist slightly furrowed his brow, subconsciously twirling the delicate silver ring on his left middle finger.

"Old Alvin has suddenly become hostile toward me, wants to kill me?"

He muttered to himself, "Strange, why would that be?

"I shouldn’t have revealed myself..."

Gerald pondered for a moment before grabbing a silver hammer from the table and a small box containing teeth.

He extracted six bloody teeth and pressed them one by one into the hammer’s side.

It was like loading bullets; with each tooth slotted in, a strange "click" came from inside the hammer—not a mechanical sound, but more like the crack of vertebrae.

Once all six were embedded, he pressed down on the hammer and turned it over.

No matter.

Sooner or later, death comes...

Gerald murmured, a gentle smile unconsciously forming on his face, "It’s quite nice to take action tonight.

He pondered briefly, then called out softly, "Skeleton Lord, block the prophecy for me—"

"—I am listening."

Suddenly, a deep, echoing voice rose without warning by Gerald’s ear.

Gerald nodded in satisfaction.