Chapter 144: Recounted by Another

The day after the banquet ended, Vellin led the Thirteenth Transport Battalion back to the main camp at Brazil Alpha.

As it was their final transport mission, after handing over the orders to Flora, Vellin allowed Greg and Imogen to pause the troops’ training.

Half a month after returning to Brazil Alpha, units began to withdraw from the front lines one after another.

Gradually, the once desolate camp grew lively again, invigorating the commercial outpost fifty kilometers away, which thrived alongside the rising sales of half-elf slaves.

Besides this, the previously rigid Fourteenth Transport Battalion’s old officer sent messengers inviting Vellin.

However, Vellin politely declined, uncertain of the man’s character and feeling it unwise to engage rashly.

In the following two weeks, the other side persisted, frequently sending requests with an air of relentless determination.

[A mask imbued with hidden cursed power has appeared in Brazil Alpha Camp; a corrupted human noble is plotting to overthrow the Magic Legion.]

Just as Vellin lay down to rest, he suddenly sat upright, his expression shifting unpredictably.

His subconscious screamed at him to flee this place immediately.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Vellin muttered, “No, I must find a solution.”

After deep contemplation, he decided to seek out his third uncle.

Yet a problem loomed—if his uncle doubted the source of the intelligence, how could Vellin explain?

“Wait, I’ll consider other options these days. If nothing works, then I’ll consider this path.”

Tossing and turning, Vellin barely fell asleep late into the night.

At dawn, Kyle entered the tent to wake him.

“Master, Lord Clare requests your presence at his tent before noon today.”

“I understand.”

Vellin sat up, rubbing his throbbing head as he recalled the countless plans he had pondered last night, concluding that confiding in his uncle posed the least risk.

Near midday, Vellin arrived at Clare’s resting tent.

Noticing Vellin’s pale face, Clare asked with concern, “What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

“Nothing much, just some troubling thoughts,” Vellin replied, sitting cross-legged at the round low table, resting his chin on his right hand.

“Alright,” Clare said, seeing Vellin unwilling to elaborate, “I won’t press.”

Soon after, a slender priest entered, removing his clerical hat to reveal a delicate face.

“Alva, this is Vellin—the interesting man I mentioned before, now more or less a friend.”

Clare introduced them further: “Vellin, this is my close friend Alva, disciple of Bishop Camille, and my childhood companion.”

“Pleased to meet you, Priest Alva,” Vellin greeted first.

“Likewise,” Alva replied gently, “Though it’s our first meeting, I feel the worries within your heart, my friend. What troubles you?”

“Alva, there’s something... I don’t know how to say it because I cannot reveal its source,” Vellin hesitated, looking at the priest of the Goddess of Life.

“I sense your fear. If you don’t mind, confide in me; the Goddess will protect you,” Alva smiled warmly, casting a healing divine spell upon Vellin’s spirit.

“Vellin, as friends, Alva and I will share your burden. Though we’ve known each other less than half a year, I trust the people I believe in,” Clare assured.

After inner struggle, Vellin sighed and said to both, “Clare, Alva, if—just if—there are humans in Brazil Alpha who have been corrupted by an evil god, how could one identify them?”

“The simplest method is to activate the camp’s monitoring array. It’s commonly used but also easily concealed. Another is to have priests perform a large-scale purification ritual over Brazil Alpha, which can detect the power of an evil god,” Clare explained.

“Vellin, why this sudden concern?” Clare’s instincts sensed something amiss.

“Perhaps I’m overthinking. Since this is my first meeting with Alva, let’s not discuss other matters today.”

The three then engaged in slow conversation.

After lunch, Vellin was the first to leave.

Clare turned to his friend with curiosity, “Alva, have you noticed anything unusual?”

Alva looked at Clare and said, “Vellin’s hypothesis reminded me of the Slaan Enigma from three centuries ago.”

“That incident with the evil god? How did that come to mind?”

“Six centuries ago, the kingdom’s Sixth Magic Legion became completely corrupted overnight, turning into fallen dark spirits. No one knew the cause; eventually, it was attributed to an evil god.”

“So, there is a problem in Brazil Alpha?”

Alva closed his eyes, speaking solemnly, “There are always some favored by the gods—those who behave unlike ordinary men. They rise swiftly from weakness to achieve unimaginable feats.”

“My master and I studied ancient secret histories, compressing tens of thousands of years into a brief timeline, revealing countless such figures.”

“Some shine like stars, vanishing at their peak into unknown realms; some rise only to fall suddenly without cause; others, of legendary races, are erased at their zenith, leaving only faint traces in hidden corners.”

“So, Alva, you mean to say Vellin has a problem?” Clare suddenly asked.

Alva opened his eyes and shook his head, “No, he does not fit the pattern. I used my unique soul skill, the Marvelous Eye, to observe him—no abnormalities. Or perhaps I am not yet skilled enough to detect any.”

Knowing Alva well, Clare asked with interest, “What will you do next?”

“Naturally, I will ask my master to intervene—to conduct a thorough, in-depth investigation of Brazil Alpha,” Alva said calmly. “He cannot reveal this himself, as he lacks concrete evidence and no one would believe him. So I will act on his behalf—swiftly and decisively, to extinguish danger before it arises.”

“Very well, future Bishop Alva, I’m counting on you,” Clare shrugged.

...

Back in his tent, after much reflection, Vellin resolved to send word to summon his third uncle.

Then followed a long wait until nightfall.

“Vellin, what’s so urgent?” Barmond arrived breathlessly upon receiving the message.

Vellin stood and got straight to the point. “Uncle, what I’m about to tell you is serious. As for the source, I can’t disclose it.”

Seeing his nephew’s grave expression, Barmond nodded solemnly.

“It’s like this—inside Brazil Alpha Camp...”

Suddenly, a divine light swept through, followed by terrifying screams.

“Hmph, quite a clever plan.”

At that moment, Barmond dashed out of the tent and, seeing cursed spirits scattering in all directions, struck out immediately.

The entire camp was sealed by divine magic; hundreds of cursed spirits were trapped with no escape, swiftly eliminated under the assault of many powerful warriors.