Chapter 72: The Case

Amaunator,

Who held dominion over order and contract,

The sun god from ancient times.

In many instances, those with shallow theological knowledge would often misjudge this deity's alignment due to the sun he represented, which symbolized "life's vitality" and "warm hope."

Mistakenly believing he was a deity more actively inclined toward goodness and positivity, like the 【Morninglord】 Lathander or the 【God of Justice】 Tyr.

This was not the case.

Just like the red sun gradually rising from the horizon.

He didn't deliberately pursue casting his radiance upon anyone, only following the rules that had been operating since this world's birth, making the sun rise as usual every day.

Promises fulfilled, laws implemented, order and rules operating.

This was his doctrine.

With this as the premise, Amaunator's followers would often appear as witnesses at various contract signing locations; or become supervisors of certain oaths.

Unless it was a major festival like "Midsummer Day" or "Shieldmeet," you'd rarely see this deity's believers, like the doctrine practitioners of the 【Blind Lord】, providing relief to suffering people in slums.

In many large cities, those appearing at the sun god's churches were often merchants and nobles in splendid attire and magnificent robes.

Of course, due to the special nature of his divine office, those farmers in the fields also often prayed to him for clear weather.

It was just that these simple and hardworking people rarely devoted themselves faithfully to any single deity.

When the weather was dry, they'd pray that the 【Lord of Waters】 "Istishia" could slightly restrain his changeable personality like water and bring them rain and dew;

During the autumn harvest, they'd offer devotion to the 【Great Mother】 and 【Goddess of Grain】 "Chauntea" who could make all things grow.

The busy, hard labor and heavy, harsh taxes meant farmers basically had no conditions to carefully groom themselves to go to the sun god's church for a complete worship service.

Since that dim evening many years ago, the sun god Amaunator had been invisibly separated from "farmers," the most widespread group of people on this continent, due to various overt and covert relationships.

And what kind of result this would lead to for a deity needing vast faith support was obvious...

"Tap."

Thick leather boots stained with some roadside soil landed on the spotlessly clean gray-white brick surface, producing a dull sound.

I took a deep breath.

The profound unknown fragrance permeating the air, and the surrounding quiet and solemn environment, made my entire being settle down accordingly.

At this moment, the two of us, under the guidance of a nun in the church, had settled Jeff.

With the sheriff's relationship, staying here was safer than outside, and he could also use the deity's power to suppress the residual negative energy in his body.

Beside me, the halfling Alton was unlike his usual enthusiasm, appearing somewhat bored.

Walking in the church's interior spacious and clean corridor, he just tossed the coin in his hand intermittently, eyes vacant, not knowing what he was thinking about.

Seeing no one around at the moment, I slightly organized my words and asked him in a low voice the confusion in my heart:

"Just now, when that priest was treating Jeff, your expression seemed off."

"Is there some problem?"

Hearing this, Alton shook his head and didn't hide anything, speaking directly:

"Because of their faith, sun god priests master one of the strongest divine holy lights on the entire continent for removing the power of undeath."

And this was also precisely why the halfling had been so certain before that Jeff could be completely healed.

But just now, that kind-faced priest had clearly stated he couldn't eradicate it.

According to Alton's understanding of such situations, there were only two reasons:

"The first, is as the priest said—what's in Jeff's body isn't simple power of undeath, but some kind of higher-level negative energy."

"The second would be..."

The halfling spoke halfway, then suddenly stopped.

His gaze passed over the coin tossed in his hand, looking at the golden sun holy symbol on the corridor wall reflecting fluorescence under the morning light.

Some hesitation showed on his face.

"What is it?" I pressed.

Before waiting for his answer, from the corner of the corridor ahead, footsteps vaguely transmitted.

Instantly closing his mouth.

The arrival was Ingram.

Still in sheriff's attire, but his golden half-long hair that had appeared especially disheveled last night when soaked by rain seemed to have been groomed during this time, re-combed and arranged.

"How is it, is Jeff's condition still good?"

Ingram walked quickly toward the two of us.

"Still okay." I nodded slightly and replied. "Just now he was still discussing with us whether selling the caravan plus his savings would be enough for retirement."

"Shouldn't need to worry."

"That's good."

The sheriff breathed a slight sigh of relief, then his expression darkened as he said solemnly:

"This time it's my dereliction of duty, not catching the culprit in time."

"Now with Jeff like this, your mission is also interrupted, I..."

Halfway through his words, another series of urgent footsteps came from behind him.

A guard ran over panting.

Standing at attention and saluting, he panted:

"Sir, there's... there's a situation!"

......

......

It wasn't discovering traces of Tim who'd already become an undead creature.

But another possibly related, equally strange case.

"Last night, I had a little drink, on the way home from the Full Money Bag tavern."

Speaking was a slightly overweight bald man.

"Sir, you know, I don't usually go to that kind of place, but..."

"Time is limited, let's hurry up." Ingram urged with a calm expression.

"Ah, ah!" The bald man nodded repeatedly and continued.

"That day I didn't pay attention to the time. When I came out of the tavern, it was already dark. Afraid my family would worry, I planned to take the shortcut by the cemetery to go home."

"Then I heard strange movements from inside, like a whistle? And also creaking weird sounds."

"I worked up the courage from the alcohol and glanced inside. In the cemetery grove, there were vaguely many human figures standing."

"Instantly broke out in a cold sweat and ran straight home."

"Just woke up today and came to report the case to you."

"Good, I understand." The guard behind him recorded the case details. Ingram's expression was serious as he reached out and patted the bald man's shoulder.

"You go back first. We'll handle what comes next."

I stood to the side, listening silently.

My expression unchanged, but inwardly I had vague speculations.

Cemetery, human figures, "creaking"—I almost instantly associated it with some of the most common undead creatures.

But...

Could it be related to Tim?

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