Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later

253 Magical Power Appraisal

Nizemar’s stomach churned as she took in the gruesome scene before her. Blood coated the man’s chin and dripped onto his animal skin garments, creating a sickening splatter. But it was the altar, used for the Holy Communion ritual, that truly made her heart drop. The bones stripped of flesh, the once human form now a blurred outline, it was a horror show that no sane person could accept. And yet, what made it even worse were the numb and sad eyes of the two children, their movements robotic and devoid of emotion after being baptized in sorrow.

Even though the Presiding Judge had explained the origins of this tradition to her, Nizemar couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong.

The idea of devouring blood-related relatives was something that no living being with a soul should ever have to endure.

A male Forest Elf stepped forward and blocked the old druid’s path, rushing to wipe the blood off his face before kneeling.

The druid, who had been on his way to investigate the foreigners, signaled for the Wild Hunts to guard the door at the other end of the temple before turning his attention to the Forest Elf in front of him.

As the forest guardian of the Holy Forest, druids had a duty to listen to every member of their race, for every Forest Elf would eventually become a part of Ravenwood’s Holy Forest.

“Disposing of the bad seeds is an obligation you have to fulfill. What’s wrong with that?”

The old man’s eyes locked onto the body halfway through the ritual on the altar before he stalked over to the man kneeling on the ground. In a voice heavy with solemnity, he asked,

The Forest Elves possessed incredible vitality, thanks to the blessings of the World Tree. Disease and injury were mere trifles to them, and as long as they didn’t perish instantly from a fatal blow, they could recover with time.

But there was a catch. The Matriarch gifted them this strength with the expectation that they would use it to expand the borders of Ravenwood Forest in their old age, when they would transform into trees. Those who failed to reach this age were deemed “bad seeds” by their kin, and their lives were seen as wasted.

It was for this reason that the brutal Holy Communion ritual was rarely performed. Unless there was a war or a tribal conflict, most Forest Elves lived to see the end of their days and metamorphosed into trees.

It was a great shame for a Forest Elf to die before this stage, and so their relatives were forced to consume their bodies without the aid of scavengers or other creatures.

This was both a punishment and a warning.

“Your Excellency,” the man said, his voice choked with rage. “My wife was killed by the empire’s ambassador’s lackeys, thanks to their filthy magic. I beg of you, make them pay with blood. I am willing to perform the Holy Communion ritual on the perpetrator.”

His eyes blazed with fury, on the brink of ignition.

The Forest Elves who had come to pay their respects in the temple immediately began to murmur among themselves.

“Killed by an ambassador sent by the empire?”

“Those sorcerers actually dare to kill the Matriarch’s citizens in the Holy Forest?”

“Is Her Grace not going to do something about this?”

“Why would she care? Wasn’t it her idea to exchange the land used to grow Green-faced Grass for grapes and export red wine to the empire? As a woman, it’s impossible for her to become Matriarch’s husband. That’s why she’s trying to curry favor with the empire and appoint those sorcerers…”

“Shh, don’t mention this here. Let’s talk about it when we get back.”

Nizemar, who had received professional training, heard the whispers clearly.

It looks like the Forest Elves are very dissatisfied with the current Holy Tree Duke’s policies, she thought.

“Ahem, silence.”

the druid elder with sprouts and leaves on his head coughed lightly to stop the surrounding whispers. Then, he looked at the furious man in front of him and said, “You said that the empire’s ambassador killed your wife. Do you have evidence?”

“The other party used invisible sorcery to slit my wife’s throat because the other party took a fancy to the prey my wife hunted and she wasn’t willing to give it to him. This happened today on a hill in the southwest of the Holy Forest. I saw it with my own eyes,” the man opened his blood-covered mouth and said.

“In other words, no one can testify other than you?”

The druid’s frown eased slightly as he turned to the clergyman in charge of the Holy Communion ritual. The clergyman immediately understood the gravity of the situation.

“His wife was already dead when she was sent over. The fatal wound was indeed a cut on her throat, but I’m not sure if it was caused by witchcraft,” the clergyman explained. “However, considering that he said the beast his wife hunted was a gray-clawed wolf, it’s not impossible for a gray-clawed wolf’s sharp claws to cause such a wound.”

The man glared at the clergyman with beast-like eyes, growling, “Do you think I’m a fool? Can’t I tell a wound caused by a gray-clawed wolf from a wound caused by air blades conjured with witchcraft? My wife was a warrior from the Eagle Feather Tribe, blessed with a double tattoo. Do you think she couldn’t even defeat a gray-clawed wolf?”

The clergyman shrunk under the man’s gaze as if he would soon devour him (in fact, he had just devoured someone), but when he saw the calm expression on the druid’s face, he mustered up the courage to continue,

As the clergyman spoke, he looked at the half-eaten corpse and continued, “From what you’ve said, I’m afraid we can only determine it by getting experienced old hunters to appraise the wound, but this… it’s already like this. There’s no value in determining the cause of death, right?”

“You were the one who urged me to hold the Holy Communion ritual immediately! You said that the corpse would rot if I didn’t hurry!”

The man’s rage boiled over. Accompanied by the screech of an eagle, the tattoo of the man’s eagle claws instantly took shape as a sharp claw blade.

“There were indeed signs of corruption when you sent her over…”

Perhaps out of guilt, the clergyman’s voice became softer and softer.

The man couldn’t help but raise his claws, but before he could do anything rash, the old druid raised his hand slightly. A faint green aura rose around the man, and he trembled and lowered his head as if he was under immense pressure.

“Calm down. Do you really know what you’re doing attacking a clergyman in the Canopy Temple?”

The elder warned before continuing, “Let me ask you again. Other than you, are there any other witnesses? Since we can’t determine the type of wound, we can’t convict those foreigners with just your word alone.”

“The spirits of the wilderness can testify for me, and the Holy Tree Matriarch can testify for me. They have all witnessed all of this!” the man said loudly as he struggled and looked up.

But the elder only sighed.

“But they can’t testify verbally… How about this? Although the wound can’t be identified, there will definitely be magic residue if they died from witchcraft. I’ll immediately report this matter to the duke. With her love for her citizens, she will definitely immediately send the magic chanters in the staff committee under her command for an appraisal. That should satisfy you, right?”

The elder’s words were like a basin of cold water poured over the man’s head. The man’s face fell for three to four seconds before he said,

“Most of the members of the duke’s staff committee were recruited from the empire. Do you mean to let the empire investigate themselves?”

His tone was much calmer than before, but the eagle claw phantom that had become more condensed in his hand expressed his emotions.

The elder frowned and said, “In Holy Tree City, only the duke’s staff committee is proficient in magic. If you insist on heading to the Astral Lighthouse to find a magic chanter, your wife’s corpse will probably rot before the Holy Communion ritual is completed. Do you want to be charged with violating the contract with the Matriarch?”

“You… You all colluded…” the man stammered, his eyes wild with desperation, as if he was ready to lash out in violence at any moment.

The forest druid, who had subdued the other party with one strike, also took a step back and raised his hand cautiously.

It was at this delicate moment that the two children beside the altar, who had stopped the ritual, looked at their struggling father and asked, “Daddy, can we not eat anymore?”

The man immediately turned to look at his two children, and most of the violent rage in his eyes dissipated.

“I… You…”

With most of his rage subsiding, there was only regret and despair.

Seeing this, the clergyman seized the opportunity and said, “Even if you’re not thinking for yourself, you have to think for your children. Moreover, don’t you believe in the fairness of the duke’s staff? Where else can we find magic chanters for the identification of magic residue for miles, other than the duke’s subordinates? If there are, I’m willing to let them come…”

Nizemar hesitated, wondering if she should reveal her identity as a magic chanter and help the pitiful person in front of her undergo a residual magic appraisal. However, because of the Presiding Judge’s orders—to wait quietly for him to return—she wondered if she should get involved.

...

After some hesitation, Nizemar finally made up her mind. But at that moment, a girl’s trembling voice sounded from behind her.

“I…”

Nizemar turned her head and saw the girl beside her, who had been wrapping her head in a headscarf, take a small step forward.

“I can help this gentleman do an appraisal of the magic residue,” she said.