The three left behind looked at one another.
"You're a Paladin?" Hal broke the silence, staring at him in disbelief as though he had encountered some rare species. "I've never seen a Paladin so weak in both body and spirit."
"A beginner, a beginner." Wulaizi felt a little uncomfortable under Hal's shocked and skeptical gaze and hurriedly changed the subject. "What should we do now?"
"I think you need weapons and equipment."
Wulaizi looked down at himself. He had thrown everything away while fleeing for his life, leaving himself with nothing but a shirt. He did need equipment.
The two came to a tent, where Hal opened a chest. "This is Captain Parrion's armor. He hasn't worn it in a long time. Hake and I can barely walk a few steps in it, and you don't look very strong either. But you're a Paladin, and Paladins are born to fight in plate armor."
In the game, characters had to reach level 40 to wear plate armor, and Wulaizi was only level 20. After a moment's thought, he picked up a gauntlet and silently said, Stats.
Nothing happened, though. He waited a while, but still nothing happened. Unwilling to give up, he chanted frantically in his mind, Stats, stats, character stats, equipment stats, all of you, come out!
A miracle really did happen. A ghostly status panel appeared in his mind:
Unas-Lawugade, human male Strength 45 (+4), agility 32 (+3), constitution 43 (+4), energy 35 (+3) Class: Paladin, level 20, experience 83% Buff: Blessing of Kings (all stats increased by 10%)
The status panel was as bare-bones as it could be, and the system had actually accepted the name Unas-Lawugade. Well, there was nothing he could do. He had made it up himself, so he would have to own it, tears and all. From now on, he was Unas-Lawugade.
These were the standard stats for a level 20 Paladin. If Unas remembered correctly, all level 1 characters had stats around 20, equivalent to an ordinary adult. His strength was 49 and his stamina 47, both more than twice those of an ordinary person. No wonder he felt so much stronger.
He tried silently reciting a few other keywords, and lines of text and data appeared in his mind,
Talents: none
Skills: Blessing of Kings, Holy Light, Consecration, Turn Evil, Sense Undead, Cleanse, Redemption, Judgment, Seal of Righteousness, Devotion Aura. There were ten skills in all, and every one had an LV1 suffix.
He had learned so many skills by level 20 thanks to his obsessive-compulsive tendencies. If he didn't learn every skill available at his current level, he always felt as though a thorn were stuck in his throat.
But he couldn't bring up the equipment stats no matter what he tried, whether he silently recited item stats, equipment stats, or gauntlet stats. Perhaps this piece of equipment simply had no stats? He couldn't help falling into thought.
Hal, who had been left standing to one side, watched Unas mutter to himself one moment and stare blankly with a silly grin the next. At last, he couldn't take it anymore. "My lord Paladin, the enemy could appear at any moment. Don't you think..."
Unas came back to his senses. The appearance of the system panel made him feel as though he had returned to the game, and much of the pressure that had weighed on him since transmigrating dissipated. Those stats and skills gave him confidence, putting him at ease. "Let them come. I'll take them all down. Wahahaha!"
Hal couldn't help curling his lip. Lord Gordon was gravely wounded, and you think you can do it, you fool of a novice Paladin?
Yet Unas's imposing air lasted less than a second. Faced with the armor at his feet, he had no idea where to begin and had to ask Hal for help. "How do you put this thing on? Quick, help me."
A Paladin who can't put on armor? Hal's lip curled even further.
In no time, Hal deftly helped Unas put on the close-fitting warrior's garments underneath and the exquisite, heavy suit of full-body armor, eager to see the fool make a spectacle of himself.
The armor was indeed heavy, but Unas wasn't crushed under its weight. His scrawny-looking body possessed two and a half times the strength of an ordinary adult.
Under Hal's astonished gaze, Unas walked a circle around the campfire and tried swinging his arms. The armor was heavy, but its design was ingenious and didn't hinder his movement much.
Hal put aside his contempt and handed him an ordinary standard-issue greatsword and a piece of bread. Unas took the two-handed greatsword and swung it excitedly, like a child with a new toy. Imagining himself hacking wildly at enemies, he copied a move from the game and made a leaping chop, but couldn't stop himself and nearly fell flat on his face.
Hal broke into a sweat. Does this man actually know any sword techniques at all?
Faced with Hal's skeptical expression, Unas smiled awkwardly. "A mistake, just a mistake."
Meanwhile, the taciturn Hake had already lit two torches in front of the camp gate. The three then put out the fire in the center of camp and discussed their plans. Hake climbed the watchtower to keep watch, while the other two lay hidden in the shadow of a tent.
The night wind gradually died down, and moonlight spilled gently over the mountain forest like silk. If he didn't think about the crisis before them, it really was a beautiful night.
After an unknown amount of time, Unas was gnawing hard on the dry, stale bread when Hal, lying beside him, poked his helmet. Only then did he notice that, at some point, a faint white mist had blanketed the entire night sky.
The mist had come too quickly and suddenly, leaving them both somewhat panicked. Hal couldn't help asking in a low voice, "Lord Unas, what do we do now?"
"We'll wait and see," Unas said, feigning calm. "And don't call me lord."
A cold gust suddenly swept in, snuffing out both torches in front of the camp with a whoosh. Unas nearly cried out in fright. He clenched his teeth, as though that could stop his heart from leaping out of his throat.
They said the more you feared ghosts, the more they came looking for you.
A series of shrill screams came from the distance, making Unas shudder. He forced himself to calm down and listened carefully. They weren't cries like "Your life is mine" or anything of the sort; they sounded more like calls for help.
"Help me!" This time they finally heard it clearly, and a stumbling figure appeared in their sight at the same moment.
The faint white mist blocked the moonlight, making everything in the distance somewhat blurry. But as the figure drew closer, they could gradually make out his form.
It was unclear whether his bright red battle robe had been dyed with blood or was originally that color. His equally crimson hair hung loose over his eyes, and with his head bowed, he staggered and dragged himself toward the camp gate like a walking corpse.
"It's Qiao, red-haired Qiao." Hal nearly jumped up. "He's one of Lord Gordon's men. We have to save him!"
"Didn't Gordon say that Qiao and Jella had already been killed? Let's wait and see." Unas felt that something was wrong and held Hal down by the shoulder.
Red-haired Qiao began banging his head against the camp's wooden palisade, letting out shrill screams. "Lord Gordon, help me! Please, help me!"
He looked just like an evil ghost returned from hell to claim lives. He went on calling out names one after another. "Captain Parrion, Ansa, ... Hal, Hake... help me!"
Finally, he fell forward onto the grass in front of the camp gate with a thud.
Hal could no longer hold back. He jumped up and ran toward his wounded comrade, and Unas had no choice but to get up and follow.
The sudden mist, the torches blown out by the wind, and the wounded man who had followed on their heels stirred an ominous premonition in Unas's heart, but he had to follow.
Hal reached the fallen Qiao first and, in his urgency, crouched down without a guard to check his injuries. At that moment, Qiao suddenly sprang upright. He grabbed Hal by the neck, a dagger appearing in his hand, and stabbed at him without mercy.
A muffled grunt sounded, and a jet of blood spurted from Hal's back. The sharp dagger had pierced his leather armor, and its metal tip, covered in torn entrails, quickly withdrew from his back. More blood sprayed out as the dagger was pulled free. Hal could only let out a faint cry of pain, and his life quickly ebbed away.
Qiao tossed Hal's corpse aside as if it were a rag. He raised his head and looked at Unas, who had stopped ten paces away. As he did, his filthy red hair fell to either side, revealing eyes that no longer belonged to a human, glowing an eerie blue in the darkness.
Unas found himself unable to move a single step. Hal's blood had spattered at his feet, and fear coiled tightly around him like a venomous snake. His hands shook so badly he could barely hold his sword. His ominous premonition had come true. Had this warmhearted young man really been killed by Qiao just like that?
"Help me... help me..." Qiao whispered haltingly as he staggered toward him, dagger in hand.
It had all happened too fast. Only now did Hake, hidden in the watchtower, let out a cry of grief. A bowstring twanged, and an arrow pierced Qiao's shoulder, followed by a second arrow, then a third...
As if venting the grief and fury in his heart through his arrows, Hake kept drawing his bow from the watchtower. Qiao's body was pinned firmly to the ground by the arrows, but he continued to struggle as black, foul blood seeped from his wounds.
"He's not human anymore! Cut off his head!" The scream from the watchtower jolted Unas out of his stupor. In that moment, he cast aside his fear, and his body automatically obeyed Hake's command. He charged forward a few steps, raised his greatsword, and brought it down on the murderer on the ground with all his strength.
With a crack, black blood burst outward, and Qiao's head was split in two. A powerful stench of decay spread with the splattering black blood.
Unas stepped back, panting heavily. Enduring the nauseating stench, he desperately comforted himself: This is just a game! I'm only killing a monster!
As it happened, a speck of golden light flew out of Qiao's corpse and entered Unas. He thought it was some kind of insect, but when he looked down, there was nothing there. A thought occurred to him, and he pulled up his status panel. Sure enough, his experience had risen by 2%.
Hake jumped down from the watchtower and ran straight to his brother's corpse. Unas could no longer spare the panel any attention and hurried after him.
Hal's body lay in a large pool of blood, his eyes wide open and a large hole through his chest. He appeared to have stopped breathing.
Unas hurriedly crouched down, raised both hands near Hal's wound, and silently said, Holy Light.
A warmth flared between his brows, sending a warm current through his arms. Golden light gathered between his hands, but it failed to form a pillar of light to heal the wound.
"What's going on? Hurry and save him!" Hake's shrill voice carried a hint of agitation.
Unas cast the spell again, but it still had no effect.
"He's already dead. Holy Light can't heal a corpse." Unas had no choice but to state the truth.
Hake looked at him in despair, his lips trembling, but he couldn't say a word. His eyes, red with anger, instantly filled with tears.
Seeing Hake so grief-stricken, Unas had a sudden flash of inspiration. He opened his skill list and searched desperately for that skill.
"Redemption" Lv1—resurrects a dead character. Cooldown: 24 hours.
The skill could only be learned by completing a quest. Fortunately, Unas was obsessive-compulsive and had already completed the quest and learned it.