When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 693

Chapter 693: Chapter 82: Sacrifice unto Death Chapter 693: Chapter 82: Sacrifice unto Death After that, Cardinal Matilda took the body away.

Because this body might be some special evidence, or it could hold a certain symbolism.

So she decided to store the corpse in the Thirteenth Ring she governed for the time being.

If it needed to be examined later, they could continue the investigation at her place.

And after Cardinal Matilda had left, Aiwass sat on the soft bed in the bedroom.

He placed the mitre he had been wearing in his lap, casually stroking and fiddling with it.

“You said before, ‘It’s strange, I’ll talk about it later’...

...

right?”

Aiwass looked up at Sherlock and asked, “I guess, you meant...

you wanted to wait until Cardinal Matilda had left to discuss it?”

Obviously, that’s what Sherlock had in mind.

He was leaning on the sofa in the bedroom, legs crossed, deep in thought.

And since Lily had already gone to the kitchen to make tea and prepare refreshments earlier, it was just Aiwass and Sherlock in the room.

Whatever Sherlock wanted to say, now was the time to say it.

“The wound doesn’t match.”

Sherlock casually answered, “No matter what, this wound shouldn’t have been fatal.

The bleeding from the wound was minimal simply because the bleeding point was too small, not because the blood had run dry.

So she definitely didn’t die from blood loss.”

“Then, poisoned?”

“Impossible.

I specifically checked, all her internal organs were intact.

No signs of poisoning were found in the trachea, oral cavity, heart, liver, or beneath the skin.”

“Could it have been a neurotoxin?”

“The cause of death had nothing to do with cardiac arrest or asphyxiation.”

“Then how did she die?”

“That’s the question, Aiwass.”

Sherlock said calmly, “How did she die?”

Aiwass raised an eyebrow, “Since you’re so calm, I assume you’ve already found the answer.”

“That would bring us to the direction of the wound.”

Sherlock responded, “The wound is no wider than two fingers, vertically oriented in a very standard manner, with both the upper and lower ends experiencing equal force and depth.

That is to say, when the dagger was fully inserted into the body, it must have been perfectly vertical to the skin’s surface.

Bishop Mercedes showed no signs of struggle, hence the wound didn’t have any tears, and the edges were very neat.

The deepest part of the wound was in the middle on both sides, specifically at the uterus, and it did not perforate through to the other side.”

Hearing this, Aiwass realized something, “Ritual dagger?”

Such a wound was clearly not the result of being pierced in the abdomen by a blade while standing opposed to someone.

A straight stab like that is quite illogical and would have been very uncomfortable to execute.

It looked more like she was lying flat when someone— or she herself in a ritual—performed it.

Considering the location was too low down, if she had been acting on her own, the knife’s cut would likely have been skewed, so the possibility of an assistant, or her being controlled and then cut with a ritual dagger seemed greater.

Even if she had voluntarily undergone the ritual, it would be difficult not to tremble under the agony of the blade’s incision, so she must have been controlled by someone.

If he wanted to get involved, this half a month was the golden opportunity.

Once things have happened, intervening would leave him in a reactive position.

“I’ll take the room upstairs,”

Sherlock answered without hesitation: “Saves you lot from walking around and disturbing my sleep.”

“I walk silently, Mr.

Hermes,”

Lily responded, her dissatisfaction clear.

She felt her professional qualities as a Stealth expert, werewolf, assassin, and professional maid were simultaneously being doubted.

Yet she was quite content with the arrangement of her room next to Aiwass’s.

Previously, she had mostly stayed in the servant’s room within Aiwass’s chamber—a small room within the master’s room, about only five or six square meters, able to accommodate some simple personal belongings, a wardrobe, a desk, and a bed.

And there was a window between the servant’s room and the bedroom, mainly so that it wasn’t soundproof, allowing her to hear Aiwass’s voice at any time.

Now, as a Third Power Level Transcendent with keen perception, she no longer needed a servant’s room to receive orders immediately.

The only thing that slightly dissatisfied Lily was the feeling that her abilities had never really been put to use.

During the previous fight alongside Hayna and the others, Lily realized that unless she transformed into a werewolf, she was completely out of her league on the front lines and at best could only cause some distractions.

But this was reasonable, as her primary job was halfway akin to that of an assassin; her secondary specialty was only in making Magic Potions.

Yet Aiwass hadn’t asked her for any Magic Potions, nor had he sent her on any Assassination missions.

If attacked, there were always the Defiant Flame Butterfly or Night Fiend to protect him.

Now that Lily had reached the Third Power Level as a dual-path Transcendent, she could be considered a strong individual anywhere.

However, she still felt she couldn’t keep up with Aiwass… The issues he faced were at the level of a Cardinal Archbishop, a Fifth Power Level powerhouse.

In the Holy Nation, where Fifth Power Level Transcendents were common, what use could she possibly be?

Merely receiving gifts and aid from Aiwass without giving anything in return… For Lily, this was somewhat painful.

Although her official role was a personal maid… Lily believed that this was a job anyone could do well, and Aiwass kept her by his side simply because he trusted her.

This job wasn’t unique to her.

It wasn’t something only she could do.

What is there that only I am capable of doing?

Lily pondered this, but her hands remained adept and efficient in her tasks.

Their luggage wasn’t extensive.

After organizing everyone’s belongings, Lily returned to the door of Aiwass’s room.

She lightly slapped her own face, rubbed it a bit, then composed herself, revealing a faint smile once more, and picked up the chest full of money—taking into account the incidents during their previous journey, she had taken some money out and placed it in different pockets on her person.

As an Archbishop on the verge of becoming a Cardinal, Aiwass didn’t need to worry about such matters in the territory of the Holy Nation.

But as Aiwass’s maid, she still had to help him avoid unnecessary trouble as much as possible.

So Lily opened the door, “Young master, everything is ready.”

“Let’s go,” Aiwass, who had been waiting, stood up and grabbed Sherlock, who had slumped onto the couch, “If you want to sleep, you can do it when you get back.”

“Just what do you want to buy?”

Sherlock complained: “Can’t you just send Lily to buy it?”

“Codex Books for you,”

Aiwass answered: “And equipment—I brought the money for such times.”

“… Huh?”

Sherlock was somewhat surprised, clearly not expecting this response: “For me?”