Super Righteous Player
Chapter 939 - 472

Chapter 939: 472

Annan had imagined many times how exactly he was going to return to the city.

He had thought about having the players notify Maria and let his sister fly out to fetch him; he had also considered issuing a main quest to summon the players over, bringing the materials necessary for constructing a teleportation ritual; and he had even thought of simply sending a safety message to Kafney and her group, then not returning for the time being—using his abduction as an excuse to wander around Noah a few rounds.

But no matter which way it was, Annan believed he should return with the poised demeanor of a victorious conqueror.

— He never imagined that he would be "shipped back" by a tragedy writer in a package.

The tragedy writer first went to the Noah palace to explain the situation.

Then under the silent, smiling supervision of Silver Baron, in Kafney’s room, a simple altar terminal was constructed... and then he returned with Silver Baron; under Silver Baron’s witness, Annan was teleported over as a "sacrificial offering to the tragedy writer."

Because the tragedy writer indeed accepted living beings as offerings, whereas Silver Baron usually did not accept offerings. If he did, it would only be some kind of contract—like a deed or an indenture, so the sacrificial ceremony for Silver Baron was impossible.

But to prevent the tragedy writer from sending Annan to some weird place... and opportunely turning "helping Annan" into "kidnapping Annan," Silver Baron still went out of his way to witness Annan being stuffed into a box, becoming a "live sacrifice," and being transported to Kafney’s room.

Annan felt a flash above his head—

When the lid was lifted, he saw a large crowd gathered around.

"...Is this some kind of new kink?"

Salvatore exclaimed, "Speaking of which, I have indeed read a similar fairy tale. Tying yourself up, placing yourself in a gift box, and sneaking into your lover’s house for a secret affair... quite romantic."

"...Are all of Noah’s fairy tales this mature?"

Annan, squatting in the box, commented, "Also, wouldn’t such a big gift box really be discovered?"

"Are you talking about ’Johnny and Cherry’? When I was little, my nurse also told me that story."

Kafney frowned, "But the version I heard, Cherry chopped herself up and made soup, then had the maid deliver it to Johnny’s room in batches. Then she had Johnny piece her bones together to resurrect her in the attic."

"Wait a second..."

Not just Annan was stunned, Maria also felt something was off, "Why would they do something like this? What was their relationship?"

"They were lovers, once even a married couple. Of course, if you ask me, they were a pair of fraudsters."

Kafney explained, "Johnny and Cherry were childhood sweethearts turned rogue spellcasters..."

"Childhood sweethearts turned rogue spellcasters, that’s quite a complex element."

"—Annan, don’t interrupt. Then, when they ambushed a noble, they discovered he was an unwed fiancé of an Earl’s daughter.

"This Earl’s daughter, supposedly, could use Twisted Spell. She would kill a young girl every month to sustain her youth..."

"The version I heard, she would bathe in the girls’ blood."

Salvatore added, "Of course, that’s not logical. Such a method wouldn’t construct a ritual sufficient to extend life. But if it was a Twisted Spell, that would make much more sense..."

"Hey, hey, hey..."

Annan, still squatting in the box, had a more complicated expression.

Don’t go searching for logic in fairy tales so seriously!

But Maria was very engrossed.

"What happened next?"

She asked eagerly.

Kafney tilted her head, recalling unsurely before answering, "I forgot the middle part. Basically, they planned to have Johnny replace the unlucky young noble’s identity to meet the Earl’s daughter.

"But she fell in love with him at first sight, and after they married, he led a very affluent life."

"He must have been very handsome."

Annan commented, "Looking good really is important."

"However, Cherry wasn’t satisfied. She saw Johnny living the good life and wanted to team up with him to make some money. That way, after he escaped, he would have some savings—The Earl’s daughter was way richer than any merchant.

"But when Johnny was secretly moving the money, he got caught by the Earl’s daughter. She thought it was Johnny supporting a mistress, so she killed another girl that was close to Johnny. Afterward, the Earl’s daughter forbade any woman from entering her mansion or contacting her husband."

"Is this really a fairy tale for children..."

Annan once again raised a plight doubt.

Noah’s children... Were the fairy tales I watched as a child this pure?

"What happened next? What happened next?"

Maria asked eagerly.

"Then Johnny was scared out of his wits," Salvatore spread his hands, "but he also missed Chelli very much. So, he planned to sneak Chelli into the Earl’s mansion during the gift tide delivered to the Earl on the Saint’s Day in April."

"However, I think this part is the weakest in terms of logic. If they wanted to steal the Earl’s money, there was no need to physically enter the mansion. It would be hard to get out afterward."

"From what I heard," Johnny really missed Chelli and wanted to see her again. It’s only because of Chelli that she herself got transported in... That kind of resurrection spell was a special ability between them."

Kafney raised a different point.

"But there’s no such simple resurrection spell," objected Salvatore.

"Maybe there was in the past?"

"It’s impossible. To resurrect someone this way, one must store the soul before cutting themselves open and then specifically transport the soul... But if it was a mansion covered by Decree School’s spells, even sneaking in a soul container would trigger the alarm..."

Salvatore, from a scholarly standpoint, immediately pointed out the irrationality in Kafney’s fairy tale and provided a detailed analysis.

"—Enough, Saul."

"Vatore-senpai" stretched out a hand from Salvatore’s shoulder, covering his mouth, and spoke in a deep, husky voice, "No one here wants to know whether the spell is reasonable or not..."

"This fairy tale is absurd to be listened to by children."

Annan couldn’t help but shake his head repeatedly, "At what age did you all listen to these stories of dismemberment and affairs? Oh, right... the Saint’s Day in April, did this happen in the United Kingdom?"

He suddenly realized.

Since April was a festive Saint’s Day, this wasn’t a story about Noah.

It turned out to be a short story from a magazine in the neighboring black country...

"And why do you all look so unconcerned?"

Annan was puzzled, "I thought you all would be frantic. I was worried Kafney and my sister would go mad, so I rushed back..."

"Because on the Philosopher’s Stone I gave you, I arranged a simple detection ritual."

Salvatore removed Vatore-senpai’s arm from his shoulder, chuckling, "When I made this artifact, I anticipated that you might not want to use it and end up unconscious somewhere... So I specifically hid an effect that would trigger from my side and collect information about your surroundings.

"I felt that you were not panicking at all, even calmly dealing with enemies. I immediately informed the two princes."

He said it as if it was no big deal.

But Annan knew—this was Salvatore placing enough trust in Annan.

If Annan had truly not returned, Salvatore would undoubtedly have paid a price for those words.

Salvatore definitely knew this.

But he still chose to trust Annan. Or rather, if Annan couldn’t handle or predict an enemy... they might not be of any help anyway. So what he could do was to not further complicate things for Annan.

"Were you just discussing ’Johnny and Chelli’?"

After having sacrificed Annan, it seemed that the tragic playwright and the Silver Baron, who had just returned, had stopped to discuss for a while.

As soon as Sophocles appeared, he revealed a somewhat malicious smile, "That’s not a made-up fairy tale, though. It’s a true story..."

"... Something your followers did?"

Annan reflexively asked.

"How—"

Sophocles suddenly widened his eyes, looking innocent.

He seemed to sigh with a mix of pain and resignation, "Heavenly Chariot, is that the impression you have of me in your heart?"

"You’ve started calling me Heavenly Chariot too..."

"—However," he changed the subject, "you’re half right. Well, a third right.

"My followers weren’t behind this incident. But the fact that this story has been handed down..."

At this point, Sophocles revealed a bright smile, "The initial version of ’Johnny and Chelli’ was written by me."

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