There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game
Chapter 924: 756: The Sword Hanging High (End of Script)

Chapter 924: Chapter 756: The Sword Hanging High (End of Script)

The night before dawn was pitch dark.

There was no moonlight outside the window.

Inside the room, only a wall lamp flickered softly.

Most of the space was engulfed in darkness.

The Ice and Snow Elf standing at the doorway had remained silent throughout.

After a moment of stillness, she quietly stepped toward the seat draped with red brocade and looked down at the young man reclining on it.

The figure lying back in the chair bore no resemblance to the image of the Papal authority. Even now, crowned as the Pope, he was just as unceremonious, entirely unlike the man who had plotted endlessly to seize royal power.

As she approached, the young man lazily lifted his gaze. His silver-white eyes betrayed no emotion.

Catalina’s face was equally devoid of expression.

Yet her gaze did not appear entirely placid.

“You are the Pope now.”

After a moment of silence, Catalina spoke abruptly.

Xu Shuo responded with a casual “Mm-hmm.”

Catalina continued, “I am also the last Ice and Snow Elf in this world. After me, no new Executor of Dawn shall emerge, and the Power of the Dawn Faith shall be buried.”

Xu Shuo said nothing this time.

“This faith war spanning a thousand years—ultimately, the Belief in Light has triumphed, both in the past and in this era,” Catalina said with a hint of bitterness.

“You’ve spent a day and a night just to come and say this?” Xu Shuo glanced at her.

“I hate you,” Catalina suddenly declared.

“And then?”

“Why can you still act so indifferent!”

Catalina’s tone grew sharp.

The two seemed to be speaking about entirely different subjects.

Upon realizing this, Xu Shuo wisely chose to remain silent, guessing that reasoning with a woman at a time like this would be futile—it was better to wait until she exhausted her dramatic outburst.

Xu Shuo decided not to bother.

Only ten minutes remained now.

Could he possibly be ambushed in such a short time?

The night outside was still pitch-black. Ten minutes wouldn’t be enough for the sun to rise; this day’s dawn would likely remain elusive.

…

…

Far away on the Western Continent.

The seaside city-states sprawled out beneath the vast inland skies, their atmosphere largely unrestrained and carefree.

Even in the late hours, the streets occasionally saw wanderers.

In certain taverns, raucous revelry continued unabated.

After a day of toil, mercenaries and rangers gathered in the warmth of tavern hearths, sipping liquor and laughing loudly as they spun tales and opinions.

“I heard the Holy Court has taken Constantinople and crowned the Pope in the Royal Capital. But so what? The aristocracy won’t just sit idly by, and neither will the Empire’s many military districts.”

“Mark my words—in less than half a month, the Holy Court will be chased out of the Royal Capital again!”

“Wasn’t it said that the Silver Shield Legion has sworn allegiance to the court now?”

“The Silver Shield Legion is barely a speck in comparison! Once those military districts unite, not even ten Silver Shield Legions could withstand them!”

“Whoever takes that throne probably won’t hold it for long!”

“Who dares sit on that throne now, anyway?”

“Haha, chances are that the Little Pope won’t last long either; he’ll likely follow in Wald XVIII’s footsteps soon enough!”

“Well, His Majesty the King’s reign has been one of ineptitude and weakness—his current predicament is only to be expected.”

“What’s truly unfortunate is the fall of the Saint Vlaro Royal Family…”

Fueled by drink, some mercenaries began chatter about the current political turmoil.

But such discussions were often baseless, shaped more by personal views and limited knowledge than grounded facts.

Most of them cared little for the imperial power struggles. Their true worries lay in whether tomorrow’s escort missions might face malicious ambushes.

As for throne succession and disputes over supremacy—

An era untouched by grand wars for a thousand years left them with little understanding of such matters.

Today’s mercenaries and rangers were accustomed to dealing with rogue bandits and burglars rather than seasoned Golden Cavalry and Iron Riders.

Let alone the madness of a chaotic age spurred by war.

Above the lively tavern.

Through the pitch-black night, a massive shadow swept by silently.

No one noticed.

…

In a small seaside cabin outside the city-state.

A ten-year-old boy was sleeping soundly in his bed. Though he’d had a nightmare a few nights ago, it hadn’t disrupted the rhythm of his daily life.

After all, nothing had happened since then.

Other than losing a set of clothes.

The boy curled up warmly in his blanket, smacking his lips in his dreams. But suddenly, he felt a bone-chilling cold invade his body.

A gust of wind reached him, and he shivered.

Assuming his blanket had slipped off, the boy groggily fumbled for it to cover himself again.

But his hand found nothing.

After a long struggle to feel anything and freezing more intensely by the second, the boy finally woke with a start, bewilderedly opening his eyes ahead—only to have his vision painfully stung by the wind.

He wasn’t in his room.

Beneath the pitch-black sky.

The sound of wind whistled around him.

Under his feet stretched an endless expanse of ocean.

Boy: “…”

Boy: “!!!”

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHH—”

A piercing scream rang across the nocturnal sea as the boy frantically flailed, only then realizing that something was clutching his waist and abdomen.

Looking down, he saw a massive, scaled black claw.

The sea breeze carried the familiar salty scent of the ocean mingled with a dense and sharp tang of blood.

Twisting his body in desperate struggle, the boy craned his neck to look upward—only to see more scaled black surfaces, his view unable to fully grasp the enormity of the creature before him.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.