Alien Knights

Winter goes to spring, everything recovers.

It has been one month since the trial meeting that attracted everyone's attention.

Girls selling flowers, with their crisp and tender voices, peddled the freshly picked flowers along the street; shop bakers put up bright and eye-catching signs, and sold bread with raspberry jam in the market.

Every resident, every shop, and every street in Yinhuan City is filled with warm and bright colors.

There is only one exception.

The Third Inquisition.

Everyone here has a dejected and depressed expression on their faces, and even the shadows cast by the buildings are a bit darker than before.

The staff of the referee office had to take off their black robes with red crosses embroidered on them and put on casual clothes if they wanted to go out to handle errands. Otherwise, they would be stared at, ridiculed or even beaten by the people of Yinhuan City. They knew they were wrong, and never refuted and fought back.

A place of trial where evil heretics wear the cloak of an arraigner, a place of crime that hides filth and slanders sages, what face and reason does it have to claim to be the sword of the heavenly father and the shield of believers? !

Old Ball is sixty-four years old this year. He is a handyman in the Third Inquisition Inquisition. He is usually responsible for cleaning and maintaining items. The old man didn't talk much, he was responsible, and his qualifications were long enough, so he was trusted. He had the keys to all the rooms in the court. Naturally, some of the more secretive and taboo rooms are not listed here.

It's five o'clock in the morning, and it's still dark. It was no different from usual, the old Ball started from the top floor of the referee and went down floor by floor, fulfilling the duties of his job.

The architectural layout of the Third Heresy Inquisition is quite strange. This may be the only place in Silver Ring City where the underground part is wider than the above-ground part.

The above-ground part includes four areas of office, training, warehouse, and archives, a total of three floors, while the underground part is much larger. Even Old Ball, who has worked here for nearly 20 years, has only been to the fourth underground floor at the deepest.

After cleaning the reception room, guard room and interrogation room on the first basement, the old man looked at the stairs leading to the second basement, took out the thick cloth clothes he carried with him, and put them on. If he wants to go all the way underground, not only the temperature will drop, but also a deeper level of cold, which makes him feel the shudder emanating from his bones every time.

In the prisons and corridors on the second and third floors of the basement, listening to the endless groans and murmurs, and looking at the inhuman prisoners in the dark, the old Bauer waved his broom, intending to return to the warm ground as soon as possible after a few symbolic swipes.

After cleaning to the end of the third basement floor, the old man put away the working tools in his hands, and when he was about to turn around and return, he caught a glimpse of something strange out of the corner of his eye.

The third basement level leads to the fourth basement level. The steel gate, which is always closed, is opened...

Half an hour later, the old deacon in charge of managing the underground prison rushed to the scene, followed by Old Ball, an assistant deacon and two guards.

The old deacon first bent down and carefully checked the ring lock of the iron door.

The iron door adopts the working principle of multiple mechanisms. The three lock cylinders embedded in the iron door are linked together by lead rods and iron slots. The key must be inserted and twisted by three deacons at the same time to open it.

But now, there was no trace of the key being inserted, and the iron lock seemed to have life, and it bounced off by itself.

Pushing open the heavy iron door, the old deacon waved his hand, motioning for everyone to follow him.

Old Ball flinched.

Ten years ago, he had entered the fourth underground floor once, and he knew exactly what was stored there.

Since that glance, he has been plagued by nightmares every night, making him ill for more than half a month.

Just when he was about to refuse, the guards behind him forced him to take a step forward.

As soon as they entered the room on the fourth basement floor, the smell of sourness and corruption penetrated everyone's nostrils and penetrated into everyone's brains.

The old deacon took it easy, took out two balls of cotton wool from his sleeves, stuffed them into his nose, and asked everyone to light the torches.

As soon as the fire was lit, the two guards, who had never been here before, screamed like a girl who saw a mouse.

The huge underground hall, with four walls and eight hall pillars, is ground into a flat surface made of rock, like stars in the night sky, inlaid with countless human heads, including men, women, old people and children. The dark gray vaulted ceiling is painted with death-themed motifs and is punctuated by legbones, tibias and ulna arrangements. Between the gaps of the skull on the wall, the foot bones and metacarpal bones are used as embellishments to fill it. There are some steel cages hanging from the high ceiling in the distance of the room, and the complete mummies and the entire skeleton are locked in it.

This is the "Record Room" where the Third Heresy Inquisition has hunted and killed alien species since its establishment (some people in the Inquisition like to call this place the "Trophy Room"). The general method is to cut off the head of the hunted target, process it, and then classify and arrange it according to the ability of the alien species and the year of capture.

Old Ball took out the cross from his chest, hugged it in his arms, closed his eyes tightly, and kept chanting, "God is above, drive away the evil! Heavenly Father is above, drive away the evil!"

Ignoring the fear and uneasiness of others, the old deacon took the assistant deacon and began to check one by one to find out if there was any abnormal situation.

"'Strength' variant, checked, and there is nothing missing."

"The "chariot" alien species has been checked, and there is nothing missing."

As each category was checked, the old deacon's frown became deeper and deeper.

Most of the alien species that have been hunted in this room are placed recently. If they cannot be found here, they may have to go deeper. In that case, things will become more troublesome.

Fortunately, his worries did not last long.

The assistant deacon quickly noticed something strange.

"'Sun' variant, here, one is missing!"

Hearing this, the old deacon walked quickly to the wall, and indeed one of the "trophies" of hideous and creepy heads was missing.

A semicircular hollow appeared on the wall, and the head that was originally placed here disappeared.

"Find it for me! Find this missing guy for me!"

The assistant deacon walked up to the pale-faced guards with trembling legs, took the thick record book from their hands, and flipped through it page by page by the light of the torch.

Time passed slowly, and the sound of flipping paper was extremely harsh in this dull and terrifying space.

Finally, a page was picked out, and a line of tiny characters appeared in front of my eyes.

The old deacon narrowed his eyes, carefully distinguishing the characters on it.

"Hunting time: January 19, 1170. Hunting location: South of Fort Watch, Raven Forest. Hunting object: Marcus Bourne. Alien classification: Sun V..."

The assistant deacon stretched out his head, glanced at it, pointed to a line of small words below, and said to his superior, "Here is another line of remarks."

The old deacon moved the record book closer to the firelight, and read out the contents word by word: "This person is suspected to be the carrier of the 'Sutherland Relic'."