System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 127
Dawn tore open the horizon and spilled a thread of pale light. In front of the Prince’s Palace, a crowd of silver-armored Knights had sealed the area tight.
At the center of the encirclement, a naked adult male knelt on the ground with his knees together, his back against the wall. He had long blond hair, sharp and handsome features, a well-proportioned body with corded muscle, and on his neck was engraved an exquisite blue rose tattoo.
At this moment, a smile dazzling enough to hurt the eyes was frozen on his pale, drained face, lingering and impossible to erase.
The coroner, wearing white rubber gloves, gently lifted the man’s eyelids and examined the pupils.
“Deceased, Simon Patrick-Laddin. Male, twenty-eight years old. In life, Deputy Grand Master of the Order of the White Rose of Ellander. Time of death, approximately six hours ago.”
A clerk scratched rapidly as he transcribed the coroner’s dictation. Then the coroner’s gaze suddenly tightened. With his gloved hand, he extracted a cylindrical, elastic object from the corpse’s still-warm tongue.
White. Fleshy. Elastic.
The coroner flicked a glance toward the lower half of the corpse, then the corner of his mouth curved in an eerie smile.
“The deceased’s lower body was severed with a sharp blade. The wound is clean. That object was then stuffed into his mouth.”
At those words, several of the surrounding Knights’ eyes nearly burst from their sockets. A handsome, dignified, noble Knight had been arranged by the killer into such a state in death?
“Bastard! How dare he ... how dare he disgrace a Knight of the White Rose!”
Cleveland’s teeth ground with a cracking sound. His eyes reddened, flames nearly spilling out.
“Again and again he provokes the Order. Now he insults us in such a base, filthy way. I, Cleveland, swear on a Knight’s honor, I will make him repay this humiliation tenfold!”
The dozen or so Knights beside him were equally stirred, faces flushed with fury.
“Arthur Tailles, Simon Patrick-Laddin, brothers, we will avenge you!”
“Gentlemen, please restrain yourselves and do not interfere with my work,” the coroner said softly, yet his voice pressed down the Knights’ agitation.
He moved around to the corpse’s back, staring at the second massive, fresh wound. As he probed it, his expression remained unchanged.
“The skin and muscle on the back were split open by a sharp blade. The incision is rough, forceful ... brutal.” Within the mangled flesh on the back, two soft, fan-shaped masses of bloody tissue were exposed.
“His two ... lungs were torn out by the killer and hung on his back, like...”
“Like a pair of wings...”
The young Witcher squeezed in from behind the Knights. He stared at the dead man’s face, confusion flickering across his expression.
The deceased was that handsome blond Knight.
What was going on now?
The killer was neither a Higher Vampire, nor Simon?
“No matter what, the Seven Deadly Sins ritual has now completely concluded. I hope my thinking is correct. Otherwise, Letho’s situation is likely dire...”
“The elbows and wrists show slight cyanosis. Signs of sprain are not obvious.”
A trace of doubt appeared on the coroner’s face as well. He then removed his gloves. “I will not belabor the cause of death. Everyone can see it. Apart from the wounds to the back and the lower body, there are no other injuries on Sir Patrick-Laddin’s surface. My preliminary judgment is that the killer used some method to restrain the victim’s body, then rapidly rendered him unconscious before carrying out the ‘procedure’. As a result, the victim’s struggle marks are minimal.”
“That said, although the killer already has six practical attempts under his belt, his technique remains crudely offensive.” Francis looked around at the crowd. “I am finished. Does anyone have any thoughts?”
The crowd fell into a suffocating silence.
“If there are no objections, I will now need to take the body back for further dissection.”
The Knights seemed still trapped in grief over their comrade’s brutal death. No one responded.
“Who was the first to discover the body?” Roy spoke first.
“I ... I was.”
A young Knight stepped out of the crowd. His chin bore a trace of immature stubble. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, clearly suffering from severe lack of sleep.
“Last night Sir Patrick-Laddin and I were in the same patrol squad. He said ... said he was going to relieve himself. He was gone for quite a while and did not come back. Then I ... I found his body in the alley.”
“Damn it, this is my fault!” The young Knight slapped himself hard, a bright red handprint immediately blooming on his cheek.
“I should have gone with Sir Patrick-Laddin. Never act alone, never act alone. The Grand Master warned us countless times. We always followed it properly. Yesterday, of all days, I just had to...”
“You,” Cleveland sighed heavily and patted the young Knight’s shoulder in consolation, “you should reflect on this later. But this cannot be blamed entirely on you. The area around the Prince’s Palace is practically sealed by our brothers, layer upon layer. Who could have expected that bastard to move like a ghost.”
“But fifteen minutes,” someone said. “I do not believe the killer could silently subdue Sir Patrick-Laddin and arrange him into such a state within fifteen minutes.”
“That is right...” The same expression appeared on the faces of a dozen Knights. “Among the more than two hundred Knights of the White Rose in Ellander, Sir Patrick-Laddin’s strength was second only to Grand Master Cleveland...”
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