I, the leader of the esoteric sect, am doing great things in the infinite world!

The forget-me-not's exposed skull has been repaired by the power of Arcana, and even its crushed eyeball has grown back. However, that eye has permanently lost its vision in the waking world, and has been replaced by an ability similar to spiritual vision.

"No, you did the right thing."

Arcana's voice was ethereal and distant; the real Arcana spoke a language similar to Old English.

"but......"

“You must learn to be patient, and never forget me. We will all get the answers we want.” Arcana’s figure gradually dissipated in the wind. “If we cannot have ‘Sichen’, then let us turn our attention to the exiles and the hunters—if we cannot even control the exiles, then we must keep the hunters.”

Forget-me-not closed his eyes, and the shadowy non-human disciples emerged from the shadows once more, crowding around him.

He bowed his head, offering his highest respect to his mentor: "Everything is in accordance with your will, madam."

......

Krakow.

Krakow is the largest industrial city in southern Poland. As the capital and municipality of Krakow Province, it is located on both banks of the upper Vistula River and has a population of about 74. It has a long history, having been founded around 700 AD. It is one of the oldest cities in Central Europe and the homeland of the Vistula people.

Today, Krakow welcomed a group of burly cult members dressed in black trench coats and top hats, who looked like menacing figures.

They are known as the Liquidators in the mystical world, and their status in the mystical world is similar to that of Colonel Sichen in the Worm Pavilion.

Each possesses unique skills, and their fighting spirit and patience are truly astonishing. Their secret weapons (referring to the Ashes Ledger and the Silence spell) bring unexpected surprises to their targets.

Whether it was the official forces in Krakow or the gangs living in the streets and alleys of Krakow, they all trembled before the purgers, and a black torrent swept through the streets and alleys like a river.

282 The Sword of Krakow

Above the city, on the hills where the winds of desire and fervor blow, a dilapidated wooden church stands in a desolate, leafless oak forest.

Its name is the Church of St. Marcana the White, but no one knows where the name St. Marcana comes from, or how he bled to death and was canonized. Over time, this not-so-white church has acquired a somewhat ironic name.

White church.

A local legend has been passed down in Krakow that the King of Poland left a scepter that did not belong to him on the dome of the White Church, but for hundreds of years no one has ever found it.

Krakow Cathedral has been renovated several times over the centuries, and each time the dome of the white cathedral has been dismantled. Countless explorers, treasure hunters, and hoarders have tried to find the scepter that symbolizes Polish royal power, but no one has ever found it.

It's as if it really is just a legend.

But if you go to the streets and alleys of Krakow, listen carefully to the nursery rhymes that drift in the wind, chat with the "artists" who paint on the riverbank, or ask the sleeping old people in the shops that display painted masks, they will surely tell you that it is not a legend.

They would describe the story in different languages ​​with varying expressions—the king's appearance, age, and title were all different, and even the appearance of his scepter was different.

“I assure you it’s a scepter adorned with gold and rubies, sir,” the children said, and they ran off like a gust of wind from the alleyway.

"Don't believe those kids' nonsense. Hey, if you ask me, it must be an iron scepter, like the king's iron crown, incredibly heavy, enough to crack open the crown prince's skull in one blow." The artists promoted their stories to the audience in what they considered frightening tones.

“Wrong, that might not be a scepter, it might be something else—” The old, frail bosses held a hand warmer and produced a lot of historical materials, some real and some fake, as evidence. “Who would be foolish enough to hide a golden scepter here? As for an iron scepter, that’s even more of a joke.”

"In short, it couldn't be an ordinary scepter. It might be a crown used by emperors for their coronation, or some kind of crown, who knows?"

After the liquidator opened the door to the eleventh antique shop and pried open the owner's mouth with gold, he finally revealed a piece of information: "If you really want to know these things, go find 'hospitable' Izchok Ashlag."

The liquidator thanked him for the news, silenced him with a knife, and then went to Izchok Ashlag's house.

When talking about Izchok Ashlag, Madame Krakor often called him "the wizard" or "the sorcerer" because he was always fiddling with those yellowed manuscripts that others couldn't understand, and there was always a pot of thick green soup simmering in the hall of his room, making him look exactly like the wizard people imagined.

The liquidators pulled the screaming Izchok Ashlag from under the table and forced him to tell the story of the White Church in Krakow.

Izchok Ashlag and the exile were friends for many years. The exile had been providing him with esoteric manuscripts, so he was familiar with the methods of the purges. Therefore, he confessed very readily, which was also to avoid being tortured.

—There is indeed a scepter in the white church in Krakow, but it is not a ceremonial object in the conventional sense.

That's a sword.

The sword is hidden in the Jesus relief on the dome of the white church in Krakow.

That is the largest building in Krakow Cathedral, with a huge cross standing behind the pulpit, and the head of Jesus, who was nailed to the cross, level with the dome.

Once you enter the White Church, you'll see this magnificent building. However, as liquidators, we all know more or less about the secret history hidden in myths and legends.

—For example, Jesus, the anointed one of the Orthodox Church and the Messiah in the Apocalypse, was actually the named one of the Annunciation and the Ant Mother. In order to practice his doctrine, he opened himself up in a terrifying way, and three days later he was favored by the power of the woodland and returned as a sprouting corpse.

He eventually ascended into the woodland and became one of the named ant queens.

The purgatory people smashed the head of the Jesus statue in Krakow Cathedral and took the sword from it.

The hilt of this sword has extremely intricate patterns, and the end is a sphere—based on its design, it should be the coronation sword of the Polish king, transliterated as the Szelbike sword.

During the coronation ceremony, the Polish king would hold a sword in one hand and a scroll of scriptures in the other to demonstrate the monarch's civil and military achievements.

As a coronation sword, the hilt of the Szczerbik sword is usually engraved with the king's achievements, and the gleaming blade plays an important role in the ceremony.

In any case, such a coronation sword should never be used on the battlefield.

But this sword is different. The king's deeds engraved on its hilt have never been recorded in any history book, and its blade and body combine the attributes of both sturdiness and sharpness, as if it were born to cut through the enemy's flesh in battle.

Near the hilt, the name of this sword is engraved on the blade – “The Broken Sword, Ebrecht”.

The liquidator tried many methods, but could not leave any mark on the sword, which seemed to be able to cut through anything; at least for now, there was nothing it could not cut through.

In this situation, Differ arrived in Krakow and took the Polish Elector's sword as a matter of course.

For De Foul, there was much more history to know, such as the answers to nursery rhymes, stories, and legends. This weapon, named the Broken Sword Abrech, was destined to face a queen who had never been born into this world.

She appeared in the last history, and now the weapon that came specifically to kill her has arrived in this era—the torrential rains brought by the waves washed away the queen and the unfinished city, but not the weapon.

This means that this weapon, which cannot be washed away, is also a relic of the previous era, one of the unknown "remnants of the past".

Defour has tested it and was even able to easily cut open the bodies of immortals who have descended to earth, forcing them back into the Mansor.

The leader of the Purifiers, Defort, is a fearsome killing god in his normal state, and now, with the broken sword Ebreh in his hand, Defort is about to unleash his madness, dominance, and power.

In just one day, thirteen large mafia families in Krakow were wiped out. Damn it, can Defort, who wields the broken sword Abrech, be feared and terrified?

Of course you can...it's easy.

Except for his ungrateful daughter who chose betrayal.

......

Meanwhile, the group was sailing on the route to Algiers.

283 Twins of the Sea: You've exposed my identity, haven't you?

The sea in this era is not calm; it is eager to devour human lives. In this respect, the worship of the sea by people in the East and West over the past three thousand years has probably never escaped one theme: peace.

In ancient Mycenae and Greece, people would pray to the seagulls circling the sails at the harbor when their families went out to sea, and offer rose-colored pearls to the sailors who were about to set sail, hoping that they would be able to use the rose-colored pearls as tolls when they encountered nymphs and sirens in the sea.

Coincidentally, in the Ming Dynasty in the East, people worship a sea goddess named Mazu. Legend has it that her mortal body drowned in the sea while saving people from shipwrecks, and that she herself ascended to the temple behind the world to become a goddess. From the coastal areas of Guangdong and Guangxi to Fujian and Zhejiang, from the South China Sea to the Far Eastern subcontinent, the belief in Mazu and her attendants and the Water Goddess Class has spread everywhere.

Even in a world without mystical powers, sailors hold the sea in awe, let alone in the world of the living.

Xingti tossed a rose-colored pearl into the sea and watched it sink to the bottom with a splash.

"What are they doing?" the exile asked curiously.

As someone born of the earth, she generally kept her distance from the ocean, and she would not have chosen to escape around the Mediterranean by sea unless she was forced to.

In the worst-case scenario, the exiles would even have to cross the Strait of Gibraltar and travel to the islands in the western sea, hoping they would not be found by Defoe.

But if it really comes to that, the Cleaners who only operate on the European continent will not be able to go due to the harsh environment and wild climate of the Western Islands. No matter how powerful De Foul is, he can only come alone, which may not be a bad thing for the exiles.

Xingti whistled happily: "Ah, of course, this is to ask the sea god for protection."

It seems so obvious.

On the other side, Apple, floating in the air, chimed in: "Perhaps Miss Snyder doesn't know, so let me, Apple, explain it to you—in our time, Britain has enacted the Mystic Protection Act, and every mystic has their own identification code from birth, so the beliefs of mystics and supernatural beings are also legally preserved."

“I never would have guessed you were a believer in the sea god.” The exile shrugged.

“This brings us to the right to freedom of religion.” Xingti reached out and pinched her sunglasses with her index finger and thumb, pulling them up to reveal her eyes. “I want the freedom to have any kind of belief, and I also want the freedom not to have any kind of belief—so no one can force me to do anything or not to do anything.”

She's a very free-spirited and rock-and-roll person. Although the exile's personality is quite different from Xingti's, she understands and respects her, which is why they get along well.

"Ahem—" Xingti leaned against the railing of the ship's gunwale, tugging at his checkered scarf with a hint of smugness. "So, on another note—"

As if realizing something, she looked at the exile with some surprise: "How much do you know about the beliefs and taboos at sea?"

“To be precise, I know absolutely nothing.” The exile, his expression unchanged, took an orange from his briefcase and handed it over. “All people know is that the twin witches and twin sorceresses in the Hour of the Star seem to be related to the sea.”

"Thank you."

Xingti took the orange and peeled it with her fingernails. The sea breeze blew her golden hair under her beret, so much so that an apple had to fall on her head to help hold it down.

"Thank you, Mr. Apple." After thanking Apple, Xingti carefully considered the wording and quickly got into teaching mode.

“You were right before. The Twins of the Sea are gods who govern all water bodies. Legend has it that one of them was a princess and the other a witch. They were born from different wombs, but they longed to be together because of their forbidden love. In the end, they were forced to throw themselves into the sea and die because of drought.”

"You mean..." the exile pinched his chin, "You mean, forbidden love, right?"

Xingti nodded heavily: "It's exactly what you think."

The reason I didn't say it was because I was afraid of being retaliated against by the petty twins at sea.

“In fact, there is historical evidence to support this.” Virtue appeared on the deck, her complexion not very good, and she was not wearing the bowler hat her mother had left her. Her silver-green hair was simply tied in a ponytail.

She was the least adapted to ocean voyages of all; since setting sail from Rostock, she had almost always stayed in the cabin, only occasionally coming up to the deck for some fresh air.

“Our government officials are about to start their lesson.” The exile grinned mischievously and, as if by magic, pulled an orange from his pocket. “Have some fruit.”

“…Thank you.” Virtue accepted the citrus with some hesitation. She found herself gradually adapting to this era. It wasn’t that the eras she had experienced before weren’t unforgettable, but rather that the environment of this era was influencing her in turn, causing more emotional feelings to emerge in her originally rational thinking.