novelraw Chapter 129: Ashe Heath, the Tribunal Host
Chapter 129: Ashe Heath, the Tribunal Host
In the 13th Laboratory of the Red Mist Research Institute.
Larn pushed a small cart and swung open the lab door. With a sigh, he placed three body bags on the long table. "Professor, the new materials have arrived."
"Good."
Lawrence emerged from the inner room. His fish-like eyes, large as copper bells, scanned the ten body bags already on the table. His nose twitched at the stench of death and decay, and he nodded. "The dolphin?"
Larn continued, "The female dolphin you requested was transported in a tank, but the tank is too large to bring here. Do you want to study it while it's still fresh, or later when you need it?"
"I don't need her for now. You take care of her."
"Understood. Shall I bring the tank up for live specimens?"
"No need."
Larn blinked. Not for study, and not even into the lab?
"Professor... are you really going to study dolphins?"
"Of course," Lawrence said lightly. "But remember to deliver her to my home afterward."
Larn's jaw nearly dropped. As a model human graduate student, he felt his worldview shaken. So the rumors about Blue-Scaled Fishmen and their fondness for dolphins were true!
Lawrence gestured toward the table. "Come, open the bags. You're lucky. Back when I was doing my internship, we didn't get nearly this many research materials. Watch closely and learn."
"Yes, professor!"
Lawrence opened the first body bag. "Human, male, obese young adult, non-magic user. Level One ordinary material. You practice with this one.
"Orc, male, muscular young adult, non-magic user. Level Three ordinary material. Practice with this as well.
"Human, female, normal young adult, non-magic user. Level Three ordinary material. Take this one too.
"Elf, male, muscular, middle-aged, non-magic user. Level Seven rare material. This is mine."
He paused. "What's going on over at the hospital? Dog, male, mature and strong, non-magic user. Level Two ordinary material. Take it."
He opened the last bag and shook his head. "Eight ordinary and two rare. Not a single sorcerer. Luck isn't on our side this time."
Larn responded, "Professor Teyton, this is already excellent. Usually, the hospital sends only about twenty bodies a day, most of them Level One specimens that died of disease or old age, which the entire institute then has to divide. When I studied under Professor Oswald, sometimes a whole week would pass without a single new material."
Lawrence nodded. "So it's only in the past few days that materials have become abundant. Even with the Seven-Day Death-Dissipation rule, we barely have time to keep up."
"Exactly," Larn agreed.
Lawrence's voice carried its familiar bubbling timbre. "It's all thanks to those foreign sorcerers. They should come to Caimon City once a... no, once a month."
"Professor!" Larn exclaimed, alarmed. "Watch your words! The Lord won't be pleased!"
"Relax. We are Blood Saints, favored by the Lord. A careless word won't cost us his grace."
"But still, if someone hears and reports you—"
"Alright, alright. Do you think I'm wrong?"
Larn said seriously, "Of course! Visiting every month is too much for the city's economy. Caimon City can't handle that strain. If it were the neighboring Dreamveil City, once a month would be fine. A third of Caimon City's new materials are sent to Dreamveil's institute."
Lawrence glanced at his new student. As expected from a former human. He's a lot craftier than a Fishman.
A light screen popped up, reminding Lawrence that it was time for his scheduled appointment. "Prepare the materials first. I have some matters to attend to."
"Yes, professor."
After removing his lab coat and spraying perfume to mask the stench of corpses, Lawrence left the lab with light, brisk steps. Passing the tank downstairs, his eyes widened at the dolphin's graceful body and sensuous gaze. He wiped the drool from his lips and stepped onto the Blood Moon-lit campus path.
Lawrence had been assigned a lab just a few days after returning to the institute. He might have considered himself weak and incompetent, but his bloodline aptitude ranked among the top five in the institute. Even if he had offended the reserve elites of the other four research institutes, the institute still poured resources into him.
Larn had been assigned as his graduate student. Reluctant as he was, Lawrence had no choice but to accept. For one, supervising a student was mandatory; for another, the experiments involved countless tasks that required assistance.
Lawrence had once been a graduate student himself. This step was necessary before 'bloodline conversion,' essentially a probationary internship before transitioning races.
Even with aptitude, the institute had to ensure the newcomer could integrate into its culture, not merely remain a propagandized model citizen. Officially, the internship accelerated exposure to sorcerer research and aimed to elevate the student to Silver Rank in sorcery. Unofficially, failure to integrate often carried grim consequences. The institute had a running joke that went, "Today you are my student, tomorrow you are my research material."
The Red Mist Research Institute's main projects focused on the Blood Arts and Necromancy, both of which demanded massive numbers of corpses. Lawrence, specializing in Necromancy, had progressed rapidly thanks to the abundant materials. He had even summoned a new spirit and was close to reaching the maximum potential of his Silver Rank.
Fate worked in mysterious ways. If he were still stuck in prison, grappling with his bloodline, such rapid progress would have been impossible.
Lawrence arrived at the bar and greeted Boss Snake.
Boss Snake smiled. "Hiss, back again? Got some fine blood recently. Want a cup of Elf Song?"
"You even got elf's blood? What's the ratio?"
"Sixty percent!" Boss Snake glanced around and lowered his voice. "Besides Elf Song, I also have Wolf Kiss."
Lawrence's fish-like eyes went wide. "I didn't hear about any church attacks!"
"A Moonshadow priest happened to be in the suburbs and ran into the attackers' main force. May the Lord have mercy on him... Want some? Ten percent ratio!"
"One Elf Song, and one Wolf Kiss."
"Hiss, you really know how to drink."
Lawrence returned to his seat and quietly waited for the Blood Moon Tribunal to begin. He had barely paid attention to it while in prison, but after witnessing it once, he found himself unexpectedly drawn in. Perhaps it was because... he had been kicked out of the prison.
Perhaps it was because he knew he would spend his life being stepped on by No.222, completely unnoticed by her. Perhaps it was because he had finally accepted his own ordinariness.
Throughout his school years, his internship, and even during his time performing rituals in the prison, Lawrence had always carried himself with unyielding resolve. Self-motivation alone had been enough to satisfy him, and he never needed entertainment to enrich his inner life.
Yet now, desires he had long ignored surged to the forefront. Every night at the bar, he drank a few glasses and had even begun to enjoy the Blood Moon Tribunal... The root cause was simple. He could no longer find joy in striving alone.
For Lawrence, studying, researching, training, and exploring the Virtual World had all become obligations, in other words, tasks he had to complete. No matter how hard he worked, he could see his ceiling, and it wouldn't matter. Faced with an insurmountable wall, all he could do was lie back and coast through life.
Ironically, when he first arrived at the institute, he had looked down on coasting researchers, thinking them no different from corpses in coffins, swearing he would never become one of them.
Now, reflecting calmly, he realized perhaps that night, when he had been thrown into Shattered Lake, he had already died. Without ambition, all that remained was a heart that no longer beat.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the bar. Someone dashed in, shouting excitedly, "Something's happened at Shattered Lake Prison! Death row inmates are escaping!"
"Really? How did they get out? What about the guards?"
"Looks like the guards were locked up. The inmates hijacked the transport ship that arrived today and escaped. The port noticed the ship never returned, and after layers of reporting, the prison incident was discovered!"
"This is going to be a national embarrassment for Shattered Lake! Is this the first death row escape?"
"Wait, weren't there healers in the prison? Could they also—"
"Pfft! Hahaha! This is hilarious! Come on, let's toast the escapees! May they give the Bloodrage Hunters a little entertainment!"
"To the escapees!"
Another shouted, "To the recent influx of materials! These few days' supplies have covered months' worth!"
"To that!"
"To the foreign sorcerers—"
"Whoa, better not toast that one."
"Then to the fallen!"
"To the fallen! Woohoo~
"
Lawrence also raised his cup and finished the Elf Song in one gulp. It didn't concern him directly, but Healer No.222 must still be trapped in Shattered Lake Prison. The medical team there bore as much responsibility for the escape as the guards did. After all, the guards were obvious targets, while the healers had lurked unseen like bats in the dark.
Quietly, Lawrence thanked fate for having him sent out early. He couldn't have endured the humiliation of a Blood Saint sorcerer being controlled by death row inmates.
"So no Blood Moon Tribunal tonight, then? Boring."
"Boss Snake, why don't we set up a betting pool on the escapees? Guess when they'll be captured, or whether they'll be killed while fleeing. I have a friend in the Heresy Court who can report immediately!"
"Hissss... let me think..."
At that moment, eight light screens lit up in the center of the bar. Everyone froze, eyes turning to Boss Snake. He remained calm. "I had set them to broadcast the Blood Moon Tribunal at eight, but now... the show's gone—"
His words were cut short by a melodious tune that played out of nowhere.
If it hurts enough, grip with both hands,
Cut it open, let yesterday's curse expand.
Through endless night and day it flows,
Leaving behind only scars that show.
There's even an opening music?
Amid the patrons' astonished and expectant gazes, a uniformed guard appeared on the screens. He held the Sinner's Directory in front of his mouth, revealing only a pair of cold, indifferent eyes.
「Greetings, everyone. I am the host of this session's Blood Moon Tribunal, Ashe Heath.」
Ashe Heath. Ashe Heath!
No one could forget that name in just a few days, especially since many had been eagerly anticipating his return to the stage for this episode of the tribunal.
「Since this session could end at any moment, let's not waste time. Here is the list of those to be redeemed.」
The camera shifted to Shattered Lake Prison. Eight slender crimson stone pillars rose from the water, each supporting a stone seat occupied by a single inmate.
「This is Edmond Menken, former Executive Secretary of the Tax Bureau.」
「This is Bernard Ledor, former Director of the Government Projects Department.」
「This is Ernest Andrelle, former councilor.」
When the camera focused on the final participant, everyone watching from the bar, the institute, the church, the care facility, and the Heresy Court, stood in shock.
Ashe announced.
「This is Arandor Fernandez, current mayor of Caimon City.」