Chapter 79: Rathead’s Rescue, Colin’s Return of Favor

There must have been a reason why Servan had been suppressed by Erica for so long.

That man’s “noble’s disease” was even worse than Gregor’s.

Aside from being a staunch supporter of the old-fashioned noble faction—

his obsession with cleanliness was equally severe.

To make Servan personally come to the filthy, fish-reeking docks?

That would be worse than killing him!

However, though Servan refused to come in person,

this was still his territory—“summoning a hundred with a call” was no exaggeration!

On the dock—

the once seemingly lazy laborers, patrolling guards, and even a few fishermen repairing nets—

all revealed ferocious faces at that moment.

They drew out concealed weapons and surrounded the two men!

Daniels tore off the hindering hood, revealing his weathered face.

He stood in front of Colin with his sword held crosswise, eyes resolute:

“Colin, you go first! I’ll hold them off!”

Colin glanced around, his heart sinking.

The dock’s exit was blocked, pursuers were behind them,

and to the sides were the sea and moored ships—but those aboard were clearly no friends either.

Once again—nowhere to run!

“This time, we go together!” Colin gritted his teeth.

Holy Light condensed faintly in his hand, ready to fight to the death.

At that very moment—

“Over here!”

“Hurry! This way!”

A voice, sharp, urgent, and low, came from behind a pile of reeking, rotting fish cargo.

Colin and Daniels both turned toward the sound.

There, from the shadows, poked out the narrow, monkey-like face of Rathead,

who was frantically waving them over.

“Rathead?!” Daniels was startled yet overjoyed.

“Don’t just stand there, damn it! Wanna feed the fish? Get over here!” Rathead stomped his foot in anxiety.

The pursuers’ footsteps were already dangerously close!

The two men hesitated no more.

They crouched low and dashed toward Rathead’s hiding spot.

Rathead yanked aside a heap of fishy, foul-smelling nets,

revealing a narrow opening barely wide enough for one person to crawl through.

The edges of the hole were wet and slick with slimy moss.

“Get in! Quick!” Rathead shoved Colin forward.

Without hesitation, Colin bent down and crawled into the dark hole.

Daniels followed right after.

Rathead was the last to enter.

He pulled down a cover disguised as a rotten wooden board—

clack! it shut tight, and he quickly braced it with several stones.

Almost the instant the cover closed—

a rush of chaotic footsteps and furious shouts reached the very spot they had just stood.

“Where are they?!”

“Damn it! I swear I saw them come this way!”

“Search! Search every inch! I don’t care if you have to dig three feet deep!”

From outside came the guards’ frustrated roars and the sounds of frantic searching.

Inside the cramped passage—

it was pitch black, not a finger could be seen.

Only the three men’s heavy breathing and the faint curses from above echoed faintly.

The overwhelming stench—a mixture of rotting fish, shrimp, sludge, and excrement—was almost suffocating.

Daniels couldn’t help but gag.

Colin’s brow furrowed tightly as he forced down the nausea.

“Shhh—!”

Rathead’s voice sounded in the darkness, tinged with smugness.

“Don’t make a sound for now. Let ’em search all they like.”

“This place—aside from me—not even ghosts could find it!”

He groped around and seemed to light a small oil lamp.

A dim, yellow light barely illuminated the surroundings.

It was an extremely narrow and low passageway.

The walls were made of damp earth and stones, with drops of water constantly falling from above.

The muddy ground was slippery, exuding an even stronger stench.

“Where is this?” Daniels asked between breaths.

“Where?” Rathead grinned, showing his yellowed teeth.

“The sewers, of course! These things are centuries old—Lemon Port’s ancient relics. Go on for miles, like a maze!”

He lifted his mud-caked boot under the lamplight.

“I’m an old black-market rat. Without a few rat holes, a few rat tunnels—”

“—those ‘cats’ would’ve gnawed me to the bone long ago!”

He pointed toward the seemingly bottomless darkness beside them.

“Let’s go, honored guests. I’ll take you to my place to rest your feet.”

Rathead hunched his back,

holding up that bean-sized oil lamp as he trudged ahead through the muck.

Colin and Daniels exchanged glances,

each seeing relief and lingering fear in the other’s eyes.

They followed in silence, stepping into the cold, sticky sludge.

Before long,

a whiff of cheap tobacco smoke filled the air.

The dim halo of Rathead’s lamp illuminated a small cellar.

A few equally thin men stood up quickly, eyes wary.

“Relax, it’s me!”

Rathead waved dismissively, then turned toward Colin.

“This must be Priest Colin, right? I’ve long heard of you!”

“Thank you for saving us,” Colin said sincerely.

Rathead waved his hand. “What’s with the thanks! Old Dan’s my brother — you saved his daughter, that means you saved my niece!”

As he spoke, he leaned closer, a trace of impatience in his voice.

“But Brother Colin, I heard you can cure that damned parasite?”

Rathead rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with hope.

Only those who had suffered illness could truly understand the value of health.

Even his subordinates behind him perked up their ears.

Colin nodded. “I can cure it, but it’ll take a bit of time.”

Rathead’s eyes lit up. “Good! You rest first — I’ll get you something to eat!”

He fetched a few pieces of rock-hard black bread and half a jug of cloudy ale.

“Sorry for the rough fare, don’t mind it, huh~”

Colin was indeed starving. He took the bread and broke it open.

Daniels took a swig of ale and sat down to rest.

Half a day later,

Rathead quietly returned from outside.

“How’s the situation out there?” Daniels asked in a low voice.

Rathead’s expression darkened. “Servan seems to have gone mad!”

“The entire dock district’s crawling with his men — they’re searching house to house!”

He spat on the ground. “Damn it, several of my secret spots got busted too. I really took a loss this time~”

Then, wearing a pitiful expression, Rathead turned to Colin.

His tone was pleading. “Brother Colin, how’re you feeling now?”

“You see… could you check on my brothers here first?”

He pointed toward a few pale-faced men huddled in the corner.

“They’ve been with me over ten years — nearly sucked dry by those cursed bugs…”

Colin didn’t hesitate. “Alright, no problem. The range of my Divine Art is wide enough — all of you together.”

After resting, he finally felt his strength return somewhat.

With Daniels’s help, he cleared a space in the corner.

Then he asked Rathead to find a few straight enough wooden sticks.

He shaved them with a dagger and bound them into a simple cross.

“Step back, all of you,” Colin signaled.

He stood before the cross, bringing his hands together.

A deep, sacred prayer echoed through the cramped cellar.

Hum~

A soft milky-white glow shone from his palms,

spreading quickly into a warm radiance that enveloped the cross.

Four golden petals bloomed once more.

Rathead and his men widened their eyes, barely daring to breathe.

Then the golden light rippled outward, brushing over the sickly men first.

“Urgh—ah!”

One man arched backward violently, coughing hard!

Puh!

A mouthful of black blood splattered on the ground.

Within the blood, a fingernail-sized, pitch-black beetle writhed madly!

The others — including Rathead — all began vomiting in turn.

Each grotesque parasite was forced out by the Holy Light, hissing into smoke and ash upon hitting the ground!

“It’s gone! I feel strong again!”

One man exclaimed, waving his arms in amazement.

Rathead suddenly fell to his knees with a thud, voice trembling. “A miracle! It’s a damn miracle!”

Behind him, the healed subordinates knelt down as one,

their gazes toward Colin filled with fanatic awe.

“Priest Colin!” Rathead knocked his forehead to the ground.

“From this day on, this worthless life of Rathead’s is yours!”

Under the dim yellow lamplight,

Colin’s calm face seemed gilded with Holy Light.

He bent down to help Rathead up,

his voice quiet but firm, carrying a power that inspired trust.

“Rise, there’s no need for that.”

“You saved me and Brother Daniels just now — we’re even.”

“What we must do now is help more people rid themselves of those filthy parasites.”

“So that Lemon Port… may see the Light once more!”

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