The Final Protectors

Chapter 4: Summoning Drum

Through the rearview mirror, Jel glanced at the youth in the backseat clearly trembling with fear⁠—this was the young disciple that he had to lead around for the next year. His entire person was as tense as a taut string and he had an expression close to breaking down⁠—with his stomach hurting, Jel then peered at his dignified and solemn old friend sitting beside him. He gave a dry cough and attempted to liven up the atmosphere. “Er, Mr. Gerardo, was it?”

“Yes! Evan Gerardo is reporting to you, Advisor Shelton!” The named youth’s back immediately straightened like a plank. In that instant, Jel even thought that he was going to stand at attention and salute or something.

Roy, who was spacing out, jumped in shock because of the loud voice and he turned his head to glance at him without a word. Jel felt that the youth’s neck shrank back in fear⁠—Instructor Margarett was truly extremely solemn. “The two of us aren’t deaf, Mr. Gerardo.”

“Ye…. Yes, I apologize, Instructor Margarett.”

“You can call me Jel.” Jel shrugged, “Don’t call me ‘Advisor’. It makes me remember that tangerine face the archbishop has.”

Evan’s face reddened and he made a sound, floundering like that of a mosquito. “Please call me Evan, Ad… Jel.”

“Your luck isn’t bad, brat.” Roy made a cold laugh. “Your half-assed advisor understands very well how to be a kindergarten nanny. If you’d like, you can learn the alphabet song from him too. But I’m afraid that this guy isn’t too good at teaching you anything else.”

“Yeah.” Jel swept a glance at him. “Especially after you’ve once experienced the ravages of a bastard instructor with the last name Margarett. You’ll understand even more who the real educatoris.”

Roy turned his head and his icy-cold blue eyes looked at him. “Are you trying to win favors from him, protector of your loved ones, ‘Advisor’ Shelton?”

“I’m only describing the truth, just like how the sun rises from the East, the source of nightmares, ‘Instructor’ Margarett.”

The pitiful Evan looked at the two in front of him with his mouth agape, completely unsure of what he should do.

Fortunately, the two didn’t give much of an attention to that guy at the backseat who seemed to be sitting on pin cushions. Roy lifted the evidence bag sealing the robe. Through the sunlight, he scrutinized it carefully. Like mercury, the beautiful Aro’s Thread began to flow under the sunlight. “Aro’s Thread, the most beautiful thread in the world. I roughly checked just now. There were a total of three wars that alarmed the Temple. Only one had the resignation of an archbishop. A Cleric Knight garbed in the battle robes took charge. But that respectable cleric was already seventy-six years old.”

“He looks very young. I don’t think he’s even as old as me,” Jel said.

“The most important thing is that that cleric took on this responsibility for over two decades, so his name would definitely be embroidered on the robes.”

Roy turned silent after he finished and shared a glance with Jel. After a moment, he said, “I already wrote a letter reporting it to the archbishop. He’ll probably return very quickly.”

Jel drove the car into his courtyard and stopped to let down Roy and Evan who had already been forgotten for a while.

He glanced outside through the open car window. The glasses on his nose hid the light in his eyes. The light and warm smile suddenly vanished from his face and he told Roy standing by the car in a soft voice, “Just speaking from the information we have now, do you think this person can be trusted?”

Roy lowered his head, looking at his usually warm and elegant friend⁠—very few people know that this stylish “photography author” was actually a naturally-gifted hunter, strong and calm. He would kill Decays in one hit, and… was actually especially cautious and paranoid.

After every hunter’s graduation from the Temple, the first lesson their advisor gave them would be “no matter when, you have to maintain high alert and carefulness if you don’t want to immediately bring a mattress to sleep in a large, collective bed in Adoratt”.

It was clear that Jel was also excellent in this area.

Roy hesitated and spoke in a similarly soft voice. “There are far too many suspicious points about him. I can’t tell what his background is right now, but… Aro’s Thread never lies, do you remember? It’s a thread that was solidified when a voice was cut off in the most beautiful stage. If the heart of the wearer is filled with evil and schemes, the thread will turn into a frozen, unmoving black.”

Jel was silent for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. He slowly stepped on the pedal and drove the car into the garage. “Alright, this is pretty good proof. I’m a little persuaded now.”

A bird landed at Roy’s feet, probably drawn by that robe in his hands. It daringly quivered its thin legs as it jumped onto the shoulder of the most terrifying instructor of the Temple. Jutting the tail on its ignorant butt, it chirped noisily.

Mr. Evan Gerardo probably didn’t even have as much courage as a bird. The “good-hearted” Advisor Jel went to park the car, giving him a “world of just two people” with this devil instructor for the first time in his life. He was so nervous that his face paled and his legs and stomach trembled and twitched in fear⁠—he looked like he was about to have diarrhea out of fear.

Roy  swept a glance at him out of chance. Evan was just like a chicken with a strangled neck, hilariously frozen with his neck stretched and upright. Roy scoffed, mentally thinking that if he had the right to determine who graduated, he would ensure that trash like Mr. Evan would never think about stepping out of the Temple’s door.

The stern historian sighed internally, once again lamenting that this was really an age where their standard plummeted due to peace.

Twenty minutes later, Jel arranged the guest room for his doormat rookie disciple before sending him away. It was only then that he brought Roy to the guest room that the mysterious Mr. Smith was staying in. He was about to knock when Amy walked out from inside first. Roy instantly took a huge step back in reflex, expertly avoiding “Miss” Amy’s full-body pounce.

Amy winked his eyes at him coyly—this action was not that simple, taking into consideration the fake eyelashes that weigh at least a pound on his eyelids. “Lord Roy, did you come to comfort and look after the small and pitiful Amy who toiled for the whole day?”

Jel coughed.

“Oh!” Amy raised his voice shrilly, covering his swelling chest which he had stuffed god knows what in at some point in time. “I’m really so moved! The despicable and ordinary me could actually gain Lord Roy’s good graces and well regards. I am truly moved…”

“Believe me, Amy. You’re not ordinary at all.” Jel interrupted him⁠—exactly how many human beings in this world would be terrifying no matter if they were a man or a woman? “How’s Mr. Smith?”

“Asleep, or fainted. Who knows?” Amy shrugged. “I have to say, this guy is far too spirited. His fever had just gone down when he already attempted to launch his expedition. He even had a great interest in your flush toilet, attempting to even put his feet in for a try⁠—of course, he was firmly stopped by me. So, I put a tinsy bit of sleeping medicine in his drinking water and finally rendered him unconscious. Now, he’s completely stripped off by me and obediently lying on the bed right now.”

Jel, “…”

Roy, “…”

These hunters like them who had to suffer through the violation of the healers countless times… how did they actually not die yet?”

“It’s best if you’re a little more respectful.” Roy pushed away Amy with a cold face, walking into the room with light steps. He said in a lowered voice, “Considering that this cleric lying here has a high possibility of being an unknown Cleric Knight from one of the generations.”

Amy’s face turned serious. “Cleric?”

“It’s hard to imagine.” Jel did not enter the room but looked inside with crossed arms. “But, I believe that Roy has his own reasoning for this conclusion.”

Roy walked in and as he came closer, the person lying on the bed seemed to have felt it with his sharp senses. His brows knitted together in unease as his body began to struggle subconsciously. Perhaps due to the tranquilizer, he still didn’t wake up in the end.

Roy scrutinized him and found out that he was actually surprisingly younger than what he expected… and handsome too.

One of the man’s arms dropped out from the blankets. His skin was pale white but his muscles were well-built with countless scars with various severity levels. Roy bent down and looked. He believed that if he was a time traveller, he probably came from a time period before the Barrier was formed, which meant… it was at least before the years of Archbishop Aldo.

No matter if he was a hunter or a Cleric Knight, a peaceful age would absolutely never give him so many “war trophies” like this.

“Who in the world are you?” Roy furrowed his brows.

Right at this time, the phone in Jel’s phone suddenly rang. The ringtone was a very frantic tempo of drums.

They were all familiar with it. It was said that in ancient times, the Temple transmitted urgent tasks and summoned the hunters with this drumming. This tradition continued until today, becoming a ringtone for the “Temple’s Dispatch Office”.

The contact in the dispatch office was responsible for allocating every job and planning the hunters’ work.

Jel walked to the corridor to pick up the call but the unconscious John on the bed suddenly struggled himself awake. His eyes were still glazed over and his forehead was sweating a little. His entire body was subconsciously tensed. “The summoning drum…”

“At the sound of the summoning drum, hunters who were named as Knights are to crawl their way over even if on their last breath.” Roy looked at him, mind suddenly remembering this sentence.

A person⁠—who was knocked out by Amy and found it hard to wake up even with so many people’s voices—was actually awakened by the sound of the drum. It was likely a result of a habit drilled into his bones.

“It’s nothing much. Just a phone call.” Roy pressed down on his elbows, not allowing him to drop the IV drip. “Roy Margarett. I’m an instructor of the Temple. I’m very honored to meet you, Sir.”

John’s light brown hair cascaded down his shoulders. He was only woken up by the summoning drum and did not truly wake up yet. His reaction was slow as he looked at Roy in front of him. It took a long time before he asked blearily. “What… call?”

“A communication device for convenience.” Roy’s tone allowed no explanation as he pressed him back and laid him down. “Now, Sir, please lie back down⁠—Healer Berg, please take a look at him.”

“Call me Amy, Lord Roy.” Amy gave him a flying kiss.

Roy’s expressionless face that he maintained for years was not moved the slightest. He said, deadpanned, “I thought Amy was a feminine name, ‘Mr’ Healer.”

John’s body did not have much resistance against drugs, especially disinfectants. Thus, the effectiveness of those items on him were especially exceptional. Amy realized that it had only been slightly more than a day when his vicious inflamed wound already recovered immensely.

John laid on the bed, head on the soft pillow. Although he was weak and without strength, he seemed to be a little more awake now. With the help of the light emitted from the strange “mushroom”, he looked at Roy and hesitated. He asked, “Mr. Margarett?”

Roy nodded.

“Just now, you said that you’re a Temple instructor?”

Roy rolled up the sleeve of the very ordinary-looking suit, and revealed a harp symbol.

“Oh…” John’s gaze landed on that symbol, expression softening. He let out a slightly intimate smile. “‘A scholar holding the harp’, you teach history and study the Decay types.”

There wasn’t just a single type of instructor in the Temple.Different symbols were embroidered accordingly on their sleeves. For instance, the symbol for combat instructors was a lance. The one for instructors teaching defense and magic spells was a shield. Medicine and healers had the same one, a leaf.

Roy put down his sleeve⁠—looks like this person in front of him was familiar with the Temple symbols.

“I apologize profusely. I looked at your clothes without your permission. I suppose it was the ceremonial robes of the Cleric Knight?” Roy spoke as he observed the other’s expression.

John was not surprised at all. “Scholars holding the harp” was usually undertaken by people with the highest knowledge. If he couldn’t even recognize the robes for the Cleric Knight’s ceremonial robes, then the Temple surely was about to close down.

“May I ask…” Roy opened his mouth to ask but before he could say an entire sentence, Jel barged in with an unpleasant look.

“Something happened to Kelson.” Kel’s thin lips were pressed into a line, slightly urgent as he said, “The emblem indicated that the location is right in the State of Salla.”