A miner lay collapsed on the ground, his entire body wrapped in thorns. The thorns seemed to have a life of their own, tightening into his flesh and wrapping him up as tightly as a mummy.
His three companions stood around him, their faces written all over with anxiety.
They tried to carry him out of the tavern. The three of them worked together, their hands gripping the miner’s body tightly, muscles straining, veins bulging on their foreheads.
Yet the miner, wrapped all over in thorns, seemed as though he had been nailed to the ground—he did not budge an inch.
The companions exchanged glances, a flicker of panic flashing in their eyes. They began asking the people around them for help, their voices carrying a note of urgency:
“Come help, quick! He can’t move!”
Yet the people nearby only gave them indifferent glances. The thorns swaying on their bodies cast eerie shadows in the dim light, as if silently mocking their helplessness.
These people paid no mind to their pleas for help, as though they had grown used to such scenes. They simply continued drinking and chatting as if nothing had happened.
Time passed, second by second, and the thorns on the miner began to undergo a strange change.
The once-vivid green thorns gradually turned withered and yellow, as though their life force had been drained away, and they slowly peeled off his body.
Each piece of thorn made a faint “crack” as it hit the ground, sounding especially jarring in the quiet tavern.
As the thorns fell away, a lifelike human statue was gradually revealed.
The statue looked exactly like the miner from before—even the subtle expressions on his face were clearly visible. His face wore a blissful smile, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, as though he were still immersed in the joy of drinking and chatting with his colleagues.
His hands remained in the posture of raising a cup, his fingers slightly curled, as if at any moment he would bring the cup to his lips.
Yet his eyes were hollow and lifeless, without a spark of vitality.
His body was stiff and cold, without the slightest warmth.
He was already dead, turned into a lifeless stone statue.
Forever frozen in this moment.
Renith watched this scene, a strange chill rising in her heart.
The atmosphere in the center of the tavern became suffocatingly oppressive, as though an invisible hand had tightly gripped the throats of the miner’s friends, making it hard to breathe.
Then, even more luxuriant thorns began pouring out from within their bodies.
“This is the consequence…”
“The ‘Pain-Removing Thorns’ obtained from the statue, after absorbing a certain amount of negative emotions from the depths of the heart, will grow rapidly and eventually wrap the person up. After a short time, the thorns fall away, and the person inside will turn into a stone statue.”
“We also went to verify whether the stone statue was just a simple stone shell. But we found that it was a real stone statue, without a trace of living breath inside. They all died… all died.”
Rum added, his tone carrying a certain heaviness.
Having witnessed one person turn into a stone statue and die, the air grew solemn. It was still Renith who spoke first, breaking the silence:
“What about those directly transformed by the city lord?”
Stimt opened his mouth, looked at Rum, wanted to say something, but ultimately swallowed his words.
Rum then spoke slowly:
“Of course, they don’t need to offer thorns like this, but they… do absorb positive emotions, producing pain.”
“Absorb positive emotions?”
Renith frowned.
“Then this thing shouldn’t be called ‘Pain-Removing Thorns.’ It should be called ‘Thorns of Suffering.'”
In any case, Renith now understood that there were two kinds of thorns.
One kind was obtained by touching the thorns on the statue in the city center. The other was obtained by coming into contact with the current city lord in the city lord’s mansion. The former absorbed negative emotions from the depths of the heart, ultimately turning people into stone statues. The latter absorbed positive emotions, producing pain.
This information was very useful to Renith.
Then Renith also asked them about the intelligence on the resistance fighters under their command.
The three of them were divided into three teams, with a total of seventy-nine resistance fighters under them. To be honest, that number was even fewer than Vistada had at the beginning. Moreover, their strength was insufficient, and they had no way to seize firearms.
In other words, they were still in the “cold weapon era,” and their strength was extremely unequal compared to that of the soldiers and the transmigrators. Yet they had managed to hold on for half a year under such conditions—they really did have some skill.
The last head-on confrontation had cost their team dearly. Seeing that things were going badly, Balubalen had directly broken up the team, letting the remaining people scatter into Ongler City, and agreed that on three fixed days each week, the upper ranks would gather here to report on the situation and make future plans.
For example, the owner of this tavern was himself a rebel. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to find a relatively safe place to talk.
“But I don’t think it’s all that safe either.”
Another commotion came from outside the door.
Hearing Renith’s words, everyone looked outside through the crack in the door. It turned out that the “Cleaners” had arrived.
“Cleaners?”
Another new term.
“This is a guard department unique to Ongler City, responsible for cleaning up humans who have turned into stone statues. It’s said there’s a special channel for handling them. We followed them in secret for a long time but never found out.”
“But don’t worry, they don’t have the right to search. So they won’t come meddling in our gatherings here.”
Rum said with certainty. As a half-local, he knew this city quite well.
Seeing so many people, Stimt checked a few more dishes on the menu to properly entertain the guests who had come from afar.
That afternoon, everyone seemed quite happy.
Night fell, and the wind and sand still raged, howling in bursts like the breathing of an ancient beast.
The world outside the window was covered in a blanket of silver-white. Snowflakes fell thick as goose feathers from the pitch-black sky, and this winter feast seemed to show no sign of stopping—it only grew heavier.
Renith quietly changed into her mage robe. The hem swayed gently with her movements. She walked to the door and softly greeted Balubalen:
“Balubalen, I’m ready to set out.”
The old man said nothing, only nodded silently, and decided to go with Renith.
The two of them took advantage of the night, stepping through the snow-covered streets, and silently headed toward the statue in the center of Ongler City.
They bypassed the noisy city streets. At this moment, apart from the clamor of wind and sand, the night seemed especially quiet. Occasionally, they could see patrol guards moving about in twos and threes, their ranks mixed with quite a few transmigrators. But this time, Renith chose not to make a move.
She understood that this city now openly had an earl-level expert holding it down. Moreover, her target was that mysterious statue. Making a move now would only alert the enemy and make the upcoming investigation even harder.
Of course, if after checking the statue they were still lingering here, Renith wouldn’t mind dealing with a few potential threats along the way.
Finally, they arrived before the statue.
When viewed from afar earlier, it had seemed only magnificent and spectacular. Now, looking closely up close, they discovered that this statue was no smaller than the one Aregya had placed in the central church—in some details, it was even more exquisite.
“Be careful. You mustn’t come into contact with those thorns.”
Balubalen reminded her from the side, his voice carrying a note of worry.
Renith smiled faintly. She certainly wouldn’t be foolish enough to directly touch it with her hands. She only paced slowly around the statue, carefully observing every detail.
She closed her eyes and recalled the statue in Brand University, comparing it with the one before her.
The biggest difference was that the statue in Brand University emitted a power that bewitched the mind, while this one did not.
In other words, this statue did not have that purple crystal embedded inside it. It was clearly different from the statue at Brand University.
Yet magic power could not penetrate into the interior of this statue. Where exactly had the “Pain-Removing Thorns” gone after leaving their host?
As long as these mysteries were solved, the veil of secrecy over this statue would be completely lifted.
“Someone’s coming.”
Balubalen suddenly warned in a low voice. The two quickly hid behind the statue.
Renith waved her hand, and a faint layer of “Refraction” covered them, perfectly concealing their figures.
Two fellows in military police armor came jogging up to the statue. Their bodies were covered in thorns.
Bickering as they walked, the two faced the statue and devoutly bowed down.
“What ghost stories are you telling in the middle of the night? It’s all your fault! We almost got taken away by those Cleaners.”
One of the military police complained to the other while pulling at the thorns on his body.
“You’re just too timid!”
The thorns, drawn by the statue, slowly floated upward. Renith seized this opportunity and attached part of her magic power to the thorns, trying to sense the direction in which they slowly moved.
However, the moment the magic power on the thorns entered the statue, Renith suddenly lost all perception of the thorns.
It wasn’t that her magic power had been isolated—it had been crushed by some powerful force, disappearing without a trace along with the thorns.
“Did you find anything?”
Balubalen pointed at the statue and looked at Renith.
Renith opened her eyes. These subtle changes had not escaped her keen perception.
She pondered for a moment, then slowly said:
“No, after absorbing these thorns, the statue’s ability to block my magic power seems to have become even stronger.”
“You mean…”
Balubalen’s brows furrowed tightly, as though he had thought of something.
“I feel like this statue is sealing something…”
“Using the power of an entire city to suppress something. If that’s really the case, then what kind of thing could make these transmigrators expend so much effort?”
Balubalen shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know the answer either. The two tacitly set this topic aside, deciding to first solve the problem at hand.
While the two military police hadn’t left yet, and the statue’s secrets hadn’t been fully figured out, and there was no progress for the time being, Renith began to think about other matters:
“A transmigrator who turns others’ suffering into some kind of power? Very similar to Kolk. If nothing unexpected happens, all seven people, including Kolk, should be like this.”
“If they’re all like this, that would be far too troublesome…”
Balubalen said worriedly.
“They can constantly strengthen their own power through that method, eventually reaching a level where no one can match them.”
“However, knowing their abilities in advance doesn’t mean there’s no chance to deal with them before they reach the summit of the continent.”
The two people beneath the statue bowed again and again, until the thorns on their bodies completely disappeared. Only then did they stand up again and slowly walk off into the distance.
Renith had Filofe record all the findings, planning to observe the statue again the next morning and also to meet the resistance fighters Balubalen had brought out.
