Warlock Apprentice
Chapter 1449 - Chapter 1449: Section 1450 Sheriff's DutiesChapter 1449: Section 1450 Sheriff’s Duties
At a loss, Mandhela heard a whooshing sound overhead.
Looking up in confusion, she saw a shadow flitting from one rooftop to another across the sky, its movement fluid and graceful… if only the shadow had noticed the wall directly in its path, it would have been more so.
Regrettably, the shadow seemed to be looking back in a certain direction and did not notice the wall ahead.
By the time the shadow realized something was amiss, it was already too late.
A loud crash ensued, as the shadow, followed by a shower of bricks and debris, plummeted from the sky and smacked into the ground with a thud.
The landing spot happened to be at a bend in the alley, not far from Mandhela.
Hesitating for a moment, Mandhela walked to the corner, curious to see how the person who fell from the sky was faring.
But when she peeked around the corner, she was surprised to see the shadow standing firm as if nothing had happened, while the ground sported a sizable crater.
With his back to Mandhela, the shadow muttered, “I can’t believe I hit a wall again, this is so not in keeping with my character aesthetic… If Frode finds out, he’ll definitely nag me again, hmm, hopefully no one noticed, right?”
As he was mumbling, he seemed to sense something and swiftly turned around, locking eyes with Mandhela in an instant.
“There’s actually someone in this alley!”
Mandhela assessed the man before her: tall and well-built, he wore a Bullhorn Helm that obscured most of his face and donned an open leather vest revealing his muscular abs. His body featured tribal-like tattoos, exuding a raw, barbaric aura.
What was most striking about this man wasn’t the winding Bullhorn Helm, but his left leg, conspicuously absent, replaced by a sharp scythe.
Mandhela could feel a sense of aggression just from his appearance.
An instinctive wariness rose to its peak within her.
“Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” Tullas said, then thought to himself that there were too many people he hadn’t seen, and even those he had, he probably forgot. His question was just something he blurted out.
Mandhela took a few steps back, her gaze icy, “What do you want?”
Her voice was husky but not unpleasant, yet the tone was exceedingly cold, which would likely unsettle anyone who heard it.
Scratching his head in confusion, Tullas noted the icy tone… “You don’t know who I am?”
A chill went through Mandhela’s heart; was this man a notable figure in this city?
Watching the changes in Mandhela’s expression, Tullas had a vague idea, “You wouldn’t happen to be a newcomer, would you?”
Tullas was very confident that he was known by everyone in Originheart City, a man of fame. The only people who didn’t know him were either blind or newcomers. And since there were no blind people in Originheart City, that left only one possibility.
“What’s it to you?” Mandhela retorted coldly, stepping back to put some safe distance between them. She was new to this place and still unclear on the local dynamics; it was unwise to conflict with the “local snakes.” Moreover, she was no longer the all-powerful Queen of the Dead from the Black Forest but a mere mortal. A fight would certainly not end in her favor.
Tullas didn’t overthink it and, having determined that she was a newcomer, he was quite lenient toward all the signs of her resistance, “It seems you are indeed a newcomer. I’m Tullas, the Sheriff of Originheart City. Now that I’ve come across you, naturally, I cannot just leave you be.”
Newcomer, Originheart City, Sheriff Tullas… Mandhela caught the key phrases, all unfamiliar to her.
Where exactly had she arrived?
Mandhela furrowed her brow, retreating a few more steps cautiously, “What is Originheart City, and why am I here?”
“Eh, you look like you don’t know anything? Didn’t the person who guided you here tell you anything?” Tullas wondered—a little confused since other newcomers were typically informed by Frode before entering Originheart City. But this woman seemed utterly clueless?
What was going on, had Frode slacked off?
Tullas’s eyes lit up with the possibility that Frode had indeed slacked off. Did this mean he had caught Frode red-handed? Could it mean that… the damage to the wall and ground would not be pinned on him this time?
Tullas was visibly elated, “It’s alright if you don’t know. Just come with me, and I’ll take you to get registered.”
Tullas stepped forward, intending to grab Mandhela.
But Mandhela’s reaction was quicker, and the moment she saw Tullas about to make a move, she turned and fled.
Mandhela was fast, but as a mere mortal, she could not outpace Tullas who caught her wrist after just a few steps.
“Let go of my hand!” Mandhela glared at Tullas with deep resentment, cursing the frailty of her body.
Tullas, however, paid her no mind and started dragging her out of the alley, “Don’t run off, or you’re going to have trouble if we run into that self-proclaimed Captain of the City Guard, that bastard Sir Sabel.”
As Tullas pulled Mandhela along, he muttered complaints about Sir Sabel under his breath.
Mandhela’s face reddened with anger as she jerked her arm fiercely several times and even attacked Tullas, all in vain to break free from his grip.
Maybe it was because Mandhela struggled so fiercely that Tullas reassured her, “Don’t worry, I am the Sheriff, I won’t harm you.”
Until she could determine where she was and whether it was safe, Mandhela wouldn’t trust anyone, not even if they claimed to be the Sheriff.
A mocking light shone in Mandhela’s eyes, “Once upon a time, someone who prided herself as a princess sold me to traffickers, let alone you, a mere Sheriff. Who knows what kind of sordid secrets you might have.”
As soon as Mandhela finished speaking, she regretted it. Why did she suddenly blurt out those words impulsively?
Indeed, was it because she was too soft-hearted? Damn Angel, why did you turn her back into a Spirit!
Upon hearing Mandhela’s mockery, Tullas hesitated, then fixed his gaze on Mandhela.
After a long while, just as Mandhela was starting to feel uneasy, Tullas finally spoke with pity in his eyes, “Indeed, all the royal nobles are scum. Don’t worry, you won’t encounter such dangers in Originheart City.”
“Aren’t you a noble yourself?” Mandhela retorted sarcastically.
Tullas nodded earnestly, “Of course not, I’m just here in Originheart City for a visit.”
After Tullas finished speaking, he muttered under his breath, “I sure don’t want to be locked up in Dead’s Church by Angel every single day.”
Mandhela paused. Did she just hear Angel’s name from this man? What did he just say?
Mandhela felt somewhat frustrated. She had been too focused on planning her escape to listen carefully to Tullas’s words. What exactly did he say about Angel?
With some hesitation, Mandhela wondered if she should just ask?
But before Mandhela could speak up, she was dragged out of the alley by Tullas. With people coming and going, Mandhela felt the gaze of numerous onlookers, and her curiosity was swiftly replaced by discomfort.
Mandhela began to struggle again, growling with a guttural tone, “Let me go!”
But Tullas didn’t care about the gazes of others, walking boldly along the road, still firmly gripping Mandhela’s wrist.
They had not walked far when Tullas seemed to spot something and suddenly started running.
Mandhela was still in his grasp, and to avoid falling, she had no choice but to run along with Tullas. As they ran, Mandhela couldn’t help but curse aloud.
However, Tullas turned a deaf ear and continued chasing after the figure ahead.
Not until Mandhela felt a mess inside did Tullas finally stop.
Gasping for breath, Mandhela looked up angrily, only to see that a tall, striking man had appeared before Tullas. This man was extremely handsome and masculine, decked in light armor with a long sword at his waist, appearing majestic and imposing.
The newcomer had an expressionless face, but his eyes held a sense of urgency, as if he had something pressing to attend to.
“Tullas, what’s the matter?”
“I heard you were getting ready for your second match; I came to help you train,” Tullas, with a buddy-buddy grip on the other man’s shoulder, complained as if aggrieved, “Why do you keep going to Sabel, when you used to come to me?”
“Every time I come, you’re never here, and I can only go to Sir Sabel… We’ll talk about training later. I have something to do with Frode now,” he said, then moved past Tullas towards a distant tower.
Tullas hurried to catch up, and just as Mandhela took a breath of relief, she was dragged away again.
“I also have something to do with Frode,” said Tullas before following alongside, “You look in such a hurry, what do you need Frode for?”
Upon questioning, Lyon’s expression twisted slightly and he sighed, “Nothing much, just wanted to inquire about Angel.”
“What about him?” Tullas asked curiously.
Lyon shook his head without replying, “Just heard a rumor, I wanted to check with Frode about it.”
Tullas wanted to probe further, but Lyon became silent, instead turning his gaze towards Mandhela, who was being dragged by Tullas, “Who is she?”
Tullas glanced back at Mandhela, who had stopped struggling and was silently following along. However, on closer observation, one could see Mandhela’s ears twitching slightly.
“A newcomer, still unaware of how things work here. I’m taking her to get registered and incidentally to go see Frode for a bit of a grilling!” Tullas’s voice boomed with feigned boldness towards the end.
Lyon clearly didn’t believe him, “I even heard that you damaged the statue at the memorial square yesterday, and it would be good if Frode doesn’t charge you for that.”
“That was… an accident,” Tullas’s voice suddenly softened, “By the way, who told you? It wasn’t that Sabel who loves to gossip behind backs, was it?”
Lyon shook his head, “Sir Sabel never speaks ill of others.”
Tullas looked dejected, “Are you saying that I speak ill of others?”
Lyon shook his head, showing no interest in dwelling on that topic, then mentioned, “Speaking of which, I just heard a rumor that there was a loud noise at the Marine Theater, and a wall seems to have collapsed… Couldn’t be…”
Tullas coughed, “Unrelated to me.”
Lyon read Tullas’s expression and seemed to understand something.
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