Magical Girl's Knight Brother

Chapter 593 The Mystery of the Dead City

Following the faint yet persistent aura of divine blood and power, the three silently advanced for quite some distance, clinging to the cold, weathered foundation of the massive city wall. The faint yet unique "scent" emanating from the gods grew clearer, but it was also mixed with the increasingly intense stench and stench characteristic of a monster's lair. Finally, their steps halted before a crack that seemed insignificant compared to the overall size of the city wall.

The crack was located at the joint of two massive, dark red stones, seemingly damaged by the erosion of time or some enormous impact. It wasn't wide, only reaching an adult's waist in height, and barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through. Its edges were rough and sharp, covered in moss and grime. Against the backdrop of the magnificent city wall, hundreds of meters high, the crack appeared so small, like an inconspicuous old scar on a giant beast.

"The aura... disappeared here." Tang Zijun lowered her voice, her armored fingers gently tracing the edges of the crack, noticing several fresh scratches and a barely perceptible, yet more vibrant, dark brown stain. "It seems that's where that person crawled in."

This is undoubtedly the most direct channel.

However, the entrance itself looks rather pathetic.

Scáthach glanced at the narrow "dog hole," her dark purple eyes gleaming slightly behind the helmet visor, as if she were assessing the situation.

She paused for a moment before speaking. "I'll go in and take a look first."

The next moment, she didn't even bend over.

The entire body, covered in magnificent shadow armor, melted and collapsed instantly, like an ink droplet thrown into water, transforming into a pool of pure, flowing shadow. This pool of shadow, as if possessing a living being, clung to the cold ground and the rough edges of the cracks. Silently and smoothly, it "flowed" into them, without causing a ripple, not even disturbing a speck of dust. Tang Zijun was already used to this scene, and in fact, not only him, but anyone in the real world with any memory wouldn't be particularly surprised. After all, they had already witnessed this kind of tactic during the Shadow Calamity, and it left a deep impression on them.

But for Desk, the sight of his entire being transforming into a shadow instantly widened his eyes, his mouth agape, unable to utter a sound. He had wanted to ask this for a long time: why had Skadi, once known as the Ice Goddess, changed her name to Scáthach, and why did she now resemble a demon god more than anything else? But Desk only dared to think this to himself; he dared not actually ask. To do so would be a grave offense to a deity, a crime punishable by hanging in peacetime. After a moment of deathly silence, the shadow reformed and shaped within the crack, and Scáthach reappeared. Through the crack, she gave a very slight nod to the two outside—"Safe." Tang Zijun immediately stepped aside, making way for the tense Desk, and whispered, "Your turn. I'll cover you. Be quick."

Desk looked at the narrow, dark opening that resembled the throat of a monster, and his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his fear, and clumsily lay down, first pushing the bundle and weapons through, then curling up his muscular body and squeezing inward little by little. The rough stone edges scraped against his leather armor, making a faint grinding sound that was particularly jarring in the silent city wall. With great effort, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, he finally managed to squeeze through the gap in a disheveled state.

When it was Tang Zijun's turn, he wasn't as burly as Desk, but he was faster and more efficient. In just a few breaths, he had passed through the crack and landed steadily on the ground inside the city wall. The three of them had finally successfully infiltrated Crimson Maple City.

They were in the shadow of the massive city walls, and before them lay a deathly silence, a city interior filled with the silhouettes of enormous ruined buildings, resembling a graveyard of giant beasts. However, the instant Tang Zijun's feet touched the ground on the inner side...

An indescribable, chilling malice, like an invisible, icy wave, swept in from some direction deep within the city without warning. Tang Zijun and Scáthach shuddered almost simultaneously.

The alarm bells in Tang Zijun's mind sounded a silent, sharp alarm. He felt a mental shock mixed with extreme resentment, madness, and a kind of nauseating blasphemy forcefully crash into his perception. It was an indescribable feeling.

Scáthach's reaction was even more pronounced. The Shadow Crown on her helmet suddenly glowed with a deep purple light, and the shadow energy flowing around her surged violently like a swarm of enraged snakes, emitting a low hum. It was no ordinary aura of monster or undead; it was ancient, profound, and filled with a... twisted divinity?!

Crimson Maple City, once a dazzling jewel of the Southern Territory, is now nothing but a massive, decaying skeleton, submerged in a broth of death and ominous gloom. The enormous, dark red walls, like the ribs of a dying giant, guard the collapsed palaces, temples, and dwellings within, their outlines distorted and cast bottomless shadows in the dim light. The air is thick as congealed blood, thick with dust, mold, and a deeper, more profound, almost primal, stench of decay—the lingering scent of countless years of accumulated death and madness. Desk, leaning against the cold, icy inner wall, gasped for breath, his heart pounding wildly beneath his ribs.

Everything that happened just seconds ago was so fast it felt like an illusion—one moment Tang Zijun and Scáthach were standing beside him like two silent guardian deities, and the next moment, they were like two arrows shot from an invisible bowstring, tearing through the deathly silence with a "whoosh" and shooting towards the darkest, most central ruins of the city.

The speed was so fast that his retina only caught two blurry afterimages, one silver and one black, which vanished instantly into the maze of broken walls and ruins. "Wait for me!" Desk cried out in terror.

The sound echoed through the empty ruins, sounding extremely faint and futile.

Without thinking twice, he took off after them, his legs feeling weak. Underfoot were broken stone slabs, slippery moss, and unidentified bones. He trudged through the massive ruins, his only sounds his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart.

However, the two figures were far faster than ordinary people, and he completely lost their trace after only a few dozen breaths.

No matter how he ran or shouted, the only response was the faint, mournful sound of the wind coming from the depths of the ruins.

He was completely abandoned, left all alone in the heart of this death city that devours everything.

Looking around, the distorted shadows seemed to come alive, and every broken door and window looked like a giant maw ready to devour someone.

He could feel the hairs on his body standing on end, his palms gripping the scimitar were slick with sweat. Getting lost in this vast and unfamiliar dead city was tantamount to a slow death sentence. Desk forced himself to calm down and tried to find his way, but the collapsed houses, broken roads, and the ubiquitous, almost identical dark red bricks formed a perfect labyrinth, completely swallowing up any coordinates that could be used for reference.

Just when he was about to despair, he caught a glimpse of an unusual light out of the corner of his eye.

At the corner of a relatively intact street, a two-story building stood miraculously. Although its exterior walls were also covered in cracks and stains, warm, dim light shone through the windows. And... there even seemed to be faint, intermittent music and laughter drifting in?

In this absolute stillness, this glimmer of "life" is like a lighthouse in the darkness.

anyone?

An absurd yet hopeful idea exploded in his mind.

Could they be survivors from the city? Or perhaps from some hidden refuge?

Desk's heart pounded, and he practically scrambled toward the small building. The closer he got, the clearer the lively atmosphere became—the clattering of cups and plates, the rough laughter of men, the coquettish teasing of women, and the upbeat rhythm of dance music that made you want to sway along.

All these sounds intertwined, creating a vibrant and lively scene that stood out starkly from the surrounding desolate ruins.

This building really does look like a pub.

A faded wooden sign hangs crookedly on the lintel, with the words "Oak Barrel" barely legible.

The warm light shining through the gaps in the tightly closed wooden door and the dusty windowpanes looked so inviting.

Desk suppressed the urge to rush in; the vigilance honed by years of mercenary experience made him choose the most cautious approach. He clung to the cold, rough wall like a gecko, holding his breath, and carefully peered through the crack in a window. The sight inside made his eyes widen in shock.

The hall was brightly lit, truly brightly lit. The light from oil lamps and fireplaces illuminated the entire hall, dispelling the chill from outside. The hall was bustling with activity; mercenaries in coarse cloth sat around rough wooden tables, laughing and clinking glasses, foam from ale splashing everywhere. Several voluptuous women in brightly colored dresses moved among them, smiling sweetly as they refilled the guests' glasses with heavy jugs. In a small open space in the center, several figures danced gracefully to the lively melodies of bagpipes and lutes, their skirts billowing and their laughter clear and melodious. The air seemed to be filled with the aroma of toasting bread, the rich flavor of stewed meat, and the fragrance of ale.

What made Desk almost freeze in his blood was that he saw Tang Zijun and Scáthach.

Tang Zijun was sitting on a high stool in front of the bar, holding a huge wooden wine glass in his hand. He had a relaxed, even carefree smile on his face that Desk had never seen before. He was talking to a burly man with a full beard next to him, and the man patted his shoulder hard, seemingly amused by him.

Scáthach sat at a table by the window, her magnificent and imposing shadow armor gone, replaced by a deep purple, seemingly exquisitely made long dress that accentuated her breathtaking curves.

Her smooth purple hair cascaded down naturally. At this moment, she was elegantly holding a delicate little wine glass with her slender, white fingers, a faint smile playing on her lips. She was quietly listening to a young man dressed as a bard playing and singing across from her, her expression more peaceful than ever before, even carrying a hint of...enjoyment.

They...they're here?

A surge of overwhelming joy instantly shattered Desk's defenses. They hadn't abandoned him; they had found a safe haven. Desk was almost in tears, eager to push open the door and rush in, to join this long-awaited, vibrant warmth. His hand even instinctively touched the cold doorknob. Wait!

A chilling voice, like a thunderclap, suddenly exploded deep within his soul.

The voice didn't come from the outside world, but from his intuition, honed through countless brushes with death, known as the "survival instinct." The Dead City.

This is the Crimson Maple Dead City, ravaged by the War of the Gods and overrun by countless terrifying monsters. How could such a brightly lit, cheerful tavern exist here? And look at Tang Zijun and Scáthach inside...

When did you, Lord Wolf Rider, laugh so unguardedly?

Lady Scáthach, the ancient goddess who walks between shadow and death, her eyes are forever deep and unfathomable, carrying an all-knowing indifference. But the "Scáthach" by the window now has eyes as gentle and peaceful as an ordinary girl next door—this is utterly impossible.

Besides, how could she possibly remove that armor and crown? They were practically an integral part of her being!

And the most crucial point—why would they abandon him? Given Tang Zijun's personality and Scáthach's abilities, if they had truly found such a safe haven, how could they not wait for him? How could they let him get lost and fend for himself in this monster-infested dead city?!

The thought was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, instantly chilling Desk from head to toe. A coldness more biting than the chilling winds of Crimson Maple City shot up his spine to the top of his head. This was not a shelter!

This is definitely not Wolf Rider or Scáthach!

这 是

trap!

Just then, the sound of the door opening suddenly rang in Desk's ears. He looked up in alarm and saw that Tang Zijun had somehow managed to push the door open and walk straight towards him. "What are you doing here? Come in."

Tang Zijun smiled and extended her hand.

But to Desk, his smile was like a call to death.

Immediately afterward, hair began to sprout from Tang Zijun's outstretched hand—a thick, dark brown hair, incredibly smooth, yet chilling to the bone. Following the hair upwards, Tang Zijun's smile was gradually obscured by more and more hair; in just a few seconds, she transformed from Tang Zijun into a hairy monster. "No, no! Don't come any closer!"

Desk's legs went weak, but he still raised his scimitar.

However, the next moment, he froze on the spot—he saw that his own hand holding the knife had also started to grow hair. Not only that, he could clearly feel his clothes being stretched out by more and more hair.