The sky gradually darkened, and by evening, the Whispering Gardens had come to life again as the refugees returned from their work one after another.
The ordinary refugees who came to the monastery seeking shelter naturally fell into two groups. Those with clean backgrounds and healthy bodies were quarantined for a few days before being settled in the monastery. Of course, the monastery did not support idlers. In return for shelter, they had to work as soldiers, farmers, laborers, or apprentices of various kinds.
It was different for those whose identities were unclear or who were in poor health. They would be quarantined in the Whispering Gardens for a long time, or even arrested as spies or simply driven out. Of course, the monastery could not conclude that they were enemies and stand by while they starved, so they too were hired temporarily to earn some rations.
The temporary workers did the dirtiest, most exhausting jobs, but that was better than waiting to die. After a day of hard work, they returned to the Whispering Gardens with the rations they had earned and began preparing their most substantial meal of the day—usually just a bland oatmeal gruel.
A jumble of noises woke Unas, and the pleasant aroma of meat filled the air. He opened his eyes to find a charcoal fire burning in the center of the tent. Steam rose in wisps from a pot hanging over it on a tripod, and the aroma of meat came from within.
Gordon sat beside the fire, leafing through a small but very thick booklet that was no bigger than his palm.
"Your vigilance is only fit to be compared with that of a noble girl raised in a greenhouse," Gordon said with a mocking smile when he saw Unas wake.
"How do you know noble girls aren't vigilant?" Unas immediately shot back. "Are you some kind of flower thief who preys on noble girls?"
"I've spent my life training and fighting. I've never had much luck with women," Gordon replied with complete seriousness instead of trading barbs.
"What a dull life," Unas sighed. He thought about how he had no luck with women either. He had grown up without ever holding a girl's hand, and his confession to the person he liked in college had ended in tragedy. In the end, he had thrown himself into the great endeavor of gaming. Though lonely, his life of gaming had been quite fun.
"Dull, but useful." To someone from a family of knights like Gordon, being useful was far more important than being interesting.
The conversation had grown a little heavy, leaving Unas at a loss. Gordon was so serious despite his young age that it was hard to joke with him, and his personality was completely incompatible with Unas's.
"The beef is ready," Gordon said, handing him a wooden bowl. "I didn't expect you to get that dried beef from Eri. He treasures it."
Unas hurriedly filled his bowl to the brim and noisily gulped down the soup. It had no seasoning but a little salt, and the beef was not fresh, but at that moment, it was the most delicious beef soup in the world.
Unas let out a thoroughly satisfied breath and asked, "Erigor... seems pretty rich?"
"He's Duke Nicholas's second son. There's naturally no question about the wealth of a duke's family, but unfortunately, that's all in the past. After the Scourge broke out, everything came to nothing. His family's lands are now occupied by the Scourge."
"No wonder a little dried beef has become a treasure to a duke's second son." Unas sighed inwardly. Here was another poor man who had lost his country and his home.
"It's no secret that the monastery is short of food. Uncontaminated beef is worth its weight in gold."
"By the way, do you know a girl named Lulu? She has short brown hair and should be pretty tall." The mention of the food shortage suddenly reminded Unas of the girl who had lent him the black cloak, and he hurriedly asked about her.
Gordon shook his head and asked in puzzlement, "Why are you looking for her?"
"She lent me a cloak..." Unas told Gordon the whole story.
"You mean this cloak?" Gordon raised his voice and pointed to the black robe hanging to one side.
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"I examined it while you were asleep. This cloak is made from Iceweb Spider Silk produced in the north. It can protect against ordinary swords, as well as water and fire. More importantly, Iceweb Spider Silk has the extraordinary ability to clean itself and is extremely valuable. This cloak is worth at least two thousand gold. It's not something an ordinary person could possess."
Greatly surprised, Unas stood and took the cloak down for a closer look. Sure enough, the large bloodstains across the chest and belly had faded considerably. Apparently, the Iceweb Spider Silk's self-cleaning property had already begun to take effect.
He had not noticed before, but the robe was indeed exquisitely made, and its material was smooth and soft. Though it was called Iceweb Spider Silk, it did not feel cold at all. He guessed it would keep him quite warm, too.
Who exactly is that girl Lulu? She didn't look like a noble lady at all.
"I'll ask the guards in charge of the Whispering Gardens to keep an eye out for that girl. Something so valuable must be returned to its owner." Having grown up with the tenets of the Knight, Gordon would not be tempted by a piece of clothing, even one worth a fortune.
"Of course. I'll keep an eye out myself, too." For some reason, Unas could not forget those large, lifeless eyes that nevertheless held a little hope. "But until I find her, I'll use it. It'd be a waste to leave something this good lying around."
Gordon nodded without objecting. He closed the booklet in his hands and tucked it inside his clothes, then picked up a long package beside him with both hands. "I have two things to give you."
Unas craned his neck as Gordon unwrapped the long package. It turned out to be a massive two-handed warhammer. A square rune was etched into its silver head, looking a little like a Korean character, and blue leather covered its sturdy haft. It was almost identical to the weapon carried by Durand, the Paladin they had met on the mountain road.
"This Verigan's Fist was given to me at my consecration ceremony. It has a strong affinity for the Holy Light and can enhance the power of Holy Light spells to a certain degree. To me as I am now, it's just an ordinary hammer, so I'm giving it to you." Gordon raised the warhammer with both hands and solemnly placed it in Unas's hands.
Any further politeness from Unas would have been mere affectation, so he hurriedly accepted it. His hands sank under its weight; it was much heavier than he had imagined. He tried swinging it a few times, but the hammer pulled his body from side to side. He was not strong enough to keep his balance. The hammer was too heavy for him. He could hold it still and use it as a staff, but it would only burden him in battle.
He smiled awkwardly at Gordon, unsure whether he should give the hammer back.
"You don't seem to know how to use Holy Power to strengthen your body."
"You mean using 'Blessing of Kings'?"
Gordon shook his head and instead began asking questions. "In your heart, what do you think the Holy Light we believe in is?"
"A kind of energy?" Unas answered uncertainly. He did not believe in the Holy Light; the great god of the system had given him the right to use skills.
"Some say that." Gordon paused. "Some say the Holy Light is a deity, some say it's a living being, and others say it exists only in our hearts. The various orders all have their own views. It would take more than three days and three nights to explain their theories."
"Everyone can have their own path of the Holy Light. To me, the Holy Light probably means protection, so when the things I protected were destroyed, I lost the Holy Light as well."
"As one favored by the Light, you're fortunate. You were born able to use certain Holy Light spells, but you must also find your own path of the Holy Light and make it truly yours to command."
"Mm..." Unas nodded haltingly.
Gordon took the thick booklet from inside his clothes and said, "This is my Libram. The first half contains sacred scriptures and the tenets of Paladins that I copied down. The second half is my own understanding of the Holy Light. You could call it a diary of my cultivation."
"I'm lending it to you now, in the hope that you'll gain some understanding from it." He handed over the palm-sized Libram. "Return it to me once you have a Libram of your own."
Unas was a little touched. This meant Gordon trusted him without reservation.
He solemnly held the Libram in both hands. Its cover seemed to be made of some kind of metal. A golden cross covered in runes adorned the front, with a red diamond-shaped crystal set at its center. Holding the book, he felt a faint stirring in his heart.
Unas did not know how to express his gratitude before Gordon spoke again. "Lord Tyrosus and Lord Isillien have decided to send troops to eliminate the Dreadlord Bessarius. Lord Tyrosus will personally lead the expedition, which sets out at dawn tomorrow. Since I discovered the Dreadlord, I'll guide them as the vanguard officer."
"So soon?"
"Speed is essential in war."
"I'll go with you!" Unas blurted out. Aside from the kindness Tyrosus, Gordon, and Erigor had shown him, he himself wanted to seize the chance to pick up some experience. Leveling up quickly and increasing his own strength was the way to go.
"I was just about to ask for your help." Gordon nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "By the way, how did your armor get taken apart and left in such a mess? I made some basic repairs, though unfortunately, those dwarf smiths are all gone. Otherwise, they could have fixed the dent in the back of the cuirass completely."
The individual pieces of the full suit of armor were neatly stacked in a corner of the tent. Unas had not expected Gordon to be a part-time blacksmith as well. In the twenty-first century, he would surely have been hailed as an all-around male god.
But there was something else Unas found strange. Since entering the monastery, he had seen nothing but humans, just like in the Scarlet Monastery instance in the game.
Other races aside, he had not seen a single elf or dwarf, and both races were very friendly with humans.
After war broke out in Lordaeron, both Quel'Thalas and Ironforge had sent plenty of reinforcements. There should have been quite a few elves and dwarves stranded within Lordaeron.
He could not help asking, "Why are all the dwarf smiths gone?"
"Some time ago, General Abbendis issued an expulsion order. The monastery no longer accepts any race other than humans, and the dwarves and elves were all driven out. It's outrageous and only weakens us!" Gordon's tone grew heated, and Unas could tell he was deeply displeased with what Abbendis had done.
"Did the other lords just stand by and let him do it?"
"Lord Tyrosus opposed the decree very strongly, but unfortunately, only Lord Mograine, the Ashbringer, supported him on the five-member council. Dathrohan has always remained neutral, while Isillien supported Abbendis. The council was deadlocked, but the order had already been carried out. Lord Tyrosus had no choice but to send people to build an outpost at the edge of Venomspider Gorge to shelter the expelled members of the other races."
"Venomspider Gorge? Is that the grassy area we passed on our way up the mountain?" Unas clearly remembered the name.
"That's the entrance to Venomspider Gorge. Although the gorge hasn't been overrun by the Undead, the giant venomous spiders in the valley are not to be trifled with. But for now, they can only eke out an existence there." Gordon sighed.
It seemed Abbendis had inherited not only Garithos's army but his racism as well. He really was an evil villain.
"Let's not talk about these troubling matters. Get some rest. We leave early tomorrow morning." Gordon stood up, preparing to leave.
"Wait, teach me how to put on this full suit of armor," Unas hurriedly called after him.