Chapter 71 The Case

Amaunator.

An ancient sun god who held dominion over order and contracts.

Those with only a shallow grasp of theology often misjudged His alignment. After all, the sun represented life, warmth, hope, and vitality. It was easy to assume that a god who embodied such things would be an active, benevolent deity like [Lord of Dawn] Lathander or [God of Justice] Tyr.

That assumption was wrong.

Amaunator was more like the red sun slowly rising over the horizon.

He did not rise because He wished to cast His light upon anyone in particular. He simply followed the laws that had governed the world since its birth, allowing the sun to rise each day as it always had.

Promises were fulfilled.

Laws were enforced.

Order followed its proper course.

That was His doctrine.

For that reason, Amaunator’s worshippers often appeared as witnesses when contracts were signed or served as overseers when solemn oaths were sworn.

Unless it was a major festival such as Midsummer or Shieldmeet, it was rare to see His believers venturing into the slums to aid suffering refugees the way followers of the [Blind Lord] might.

In many great cities, those entering the Church of the Sun God were far more likely to be richly dressed merchants and nobles in ornate robes and elaborate headwear.

Of course, because of the nature of His divine portfolio, farmers often prayed to Amaunator for clear skies as well.

But those plain, hardworking people rarely devoted themselves to a single deity.

When drought came, they prayed for the [Water Lord] Istishia to rein in His fickle, ever-changing temperament and grant them rain.

When harvest season arrived, they offered their devotion to the [Great Mother] and [Goddess of Grain] Chauntea, who gave life and growth to all things.

Between exhausting labor and crushing taxes, most farmers hardly had the time or means to wash, dress properly, and travel to a church of the sun god for a complete service.

Ever since that dim evening many years ago, when heaven and earth had sunk into gloom, a mixture of open and hidden circumstances had gradually driven Sun God Amaunator apart from farmers, the single largest group of people on the continent.

For a deity who depended on vast amounts of faith, the consequences were not difficult to imagine…

Clack.

A thick leather boot, still stained with roadside mud, landed on the spotless gray-white tiles with a dull sound.

Xia Nan let out a long breath.

The unfamiliar, deep fragrance lingering in the air, combined with the church’s quiet solemnity, gradually settled his mind.

He and Alton had already helped Jeff get settled under the guidance of a nun.

Thanks to his connection with the sheriff, Jeff was safer here than he would have been outside. More importantly, the church could draw upon the deity’s power to suppress the negative energy still lingering inside his body.

Alton walked beside him, unusually lacking in enthusiasm.

The halfling wandered down the church’s broad, immaculate corridor, lazily tossing a coin into the air and catching it again. His gaze was distant, as though his mind were somewhere else entirely.

Seeing that no one was nearby, Xia Nan considered his words for a moment before lowering his voice.

“Earlier, when that priest was treating Jeff, your expression looked strange.”

“Was something wrong?”

Alton shook his head. He did not bother hiding anything.

“Because of their faith, the sun god’s priests have access to some of the strongest forms of divine radiance on the continent when it comes to purging undead power.”

That was exactly why Alton had been so confident that Jeff could be completely cured.

Yet the kindly priest had openly admitted that he could not eradicate the problem.

From what Alton knew, there were only two possible explanations.

“The first is what the priest said. What remains inside Jeff isn’t ordinary undead power. It’s some higher-level form of negative energy.”

“The second…”

Alton stopped.

His eyes followed the coin as it rose through the air, then shifted toward the golden holy symbol of the sun hanging on the corridor wall. Morning light gleamed across its surface.

For the first time, hesitation appeared on the halfling’s face.

“What?” Xia Nan pressed.

Before Alton could answer, footsteps sounded faintly from around the corner ahead.

His mouth snapped shut.

The newcomer was Ingram.

He was still dressed as the sheriff, but his medium-length golden hair had clearly been tended to since last night. Gone was the rain-soaked mess Xia Nan remembered. It had been cleaned and combed back into place.

“How’s Jeff? Is he doing all right?”

Ingram strode toward them.

“Well enough, I suppose.” Xia Nan nodded. “Just now, he was discussing whether selling the caravan and adding his savings would give him enough money to retire.”

“So I don’t think we need to worry too much.”

“That’s good.”

Ingram visibly relaxed.

Then his expression turned solemn again.

“This was my failure. I didn’t catch the murderer in time.”

“Now Jeff has ended up like this, and your mission has been interrupted too. I…”

Before he could finish, another set of hurried footsteps approached from behind him.

A guard came running over, breathing hard.

He stopped, straightened, saluted, then forced out the words between gasps.

“Sheriff, there’s… there’s been a development!”

…

…

It was not news that Tim, now an undead creature, had been spotted.

Instead, another strange case had appeared.

And it might be connected.

“Last night, I had a little to drink on my way home from the Bagful of Gold tavern.”

The man speaking was slightly overweight and balding.

“My lord, you know I don’t usually go to that sort of place, but…”

“We don’t have much time. Please get to the point,” Ingram urged, his tone still calm.

“Yes, yes!”

The balding man nodded rapidly.

“I lost track of time. By the time I came out of the tavern, it was already dark. I was worried my family might start wondering where I was, so I decided to take the shortcut beside the cemetery.”

“Then I heard something strange inside.”

“Like a whistle, maybe. And this weird creaking sound.”

“The drink gave me enough courage to sneak a look.”

His face tightened at the memory.

“There were figures standing between the graves. A lot of them. I couldn’t see them clearly, just shadows everywhere.”

“I broke out in a cold sweat and ran straight home.”

“As soon as I woke up today, I came here to report it.”

“All right. I understand.”

A guard behind Ingram recorded the details while the sheriff placed a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder.

“You can go home. We’ll handle the rest.”

Xia Nan stood off to one side, listening in silence.

His expression did not change, but a suspicion had already begun to form.

A cemetery.

Human-shaped figures.

Creaking noises.

He almost immediately thought of one of the most common forms of undead.

But…

[Could this really be connected to Tim?]