Black Death Cultists and the Scapegoat

Three days later, Chen Rui left the Dragon Brilliance Imperial Capital, Yerodisha, together with Paul.

Unlike their high-profile arrival, this time they traveled light, setting out at night. Yet Yerodisha's nightlife was exceptionally lively, and quite a few people along the way still saw Paul, inevitably stirring up some discussion.

Though the voices were low and their horses were moving swiftly, Paul's sharp hearing caught every word. His face darkened further, and his grip tightened around the reins.

After passing the inspections at the inner and outer cities, Paul began whipping his mount almost recklessly the moment they left the city, galloping wildly ahead as though venting the rage in his heart. Only when they reached the outskirts did his speed gradually slow.

"Lord Paul!" Chen Rui put on a strained expression as he urged his horse forward from behind.

Paul's breathing was somewhat heavy, the knuckles of his clenched fists turning white. "Richard, am I a failure?"

"Life can never be smooth sailing. Failures, setbacks, and hardships will all become part of our lives. But as long as we do not give up hope, every setback will be defeated by us. True victors rise from countless setbacks and failures. Being able to stand back up means you have already succeeded halfway. If you fall here, then you will never succeed."

Chen Rui urged his mount alongside Paul's and smiled. "At the very least, my lord has already succeeded halfway."

Paul steadied his breathing and felt his fighting spirit blaze up once more. He nodded. "A friend in need is a friend indeed. I'm fortunate to have a follower like you, and at the same time, a true friend who is like both a fine teacher and a helpful companion. I regret not listening to your advice before... Rest assured,