"Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m not stupid." Samael hung the Knight’s Longsword at his waist and adjusted the Kite Shield on his back. "I printed the weapons in advance when no one was looking, so I won’t have to manifest them on the spot when I need them."
The two of them were trekking through the Barren Land, making their way along the road toward the nearest Adventurer’s Alliance stronghold. It was fortunate that one of them was from the Mixed-blood Demon Race and the other a Ghost Knight. If ordinary people had trekked for so long burdened with such heavy armor, their kneecaps would have been worn down to the bone.
"Alright, come on, let’s go over our cover stories one more time." Talia took a deep breath. "I am Talan, a Warrior Knight by profession, looking to become a rookie adventurer. I come from the Holy Light Church Country in the south, from an ancient and remote War Monastery. According to my vows, I have offered my mortal face to the gods, and thus cannot remove my helmet in front of others."
"I am Samo, and I come from the same ancient, remote, unfeeling, cruel, and frigid monastery as Talan. We are super idols, and our agency has strict rules against showing our faces because we’re VTubers hiding behind avatars... oh wait, no, Warrior Knights looking to become rookie adventurers. According to my vows, I have offered my mortal face to the gods, and thus cannot remove my helmet in front of others." Samael piously made the sign of the cross over his chest, pressed his hands together, and bowed his head.
"Be serious, don’t be so dramatic. And remember, we wear heavy armor at all times to undergo physical penance in accordance with our ascetic vows. That’s how we’ll answer if they ask," Talia added. "If they ask about eating... uh, just say we are bound by our ascetic vows and cannot eat with others. If they insist on shoving food at you, say you’re fasting, or not hungry at the moment and will eat later. Just brush it off—argh, the more I think about it, the harder it gets! How are we ever going to pull this off?"
She slapped a hand against her helmet and let out a long sigh.
"Let’s just give it a try. Maybe adventurers don’t even care about these things," Samael shrugged his shoulders... or rather, his pauldrons.
"Right, right, let’s continue. The journey of us two Warrior Knights is a form of ascetic penance, and for our next stop, we hope to cross the Ederic Empire to reach the center of the continent. If your esteemed adventurer party happens to have a caravan of its own and can take us along the way, that would be wonderful. If you don’t have a caravan, that’s fine too; as long as you can help us earn enough for travel expenses, that works. If all else fails, we’ll just have to figure something else out at the gates of the Ederic border checkpoint... Worst-case scenario, we sneak into the cargo of a transport caravan." Talia continued to practice her phrasing, organizing her thoughts. "Got it?"
Samael nodded. "Oh, oh, oh, I get it. We’re monks! Basically *The Lord of the Rings* version of Tang Monk and Sun Wukong! This humble monk comes from the Holy Light Church Country in the southwest, traveling to the central continent to seek enlightenment!
"Tang Monk wears Xuanwu Black Gold Armor, steps in Black Qilin Cloud-Stepping Shoes, and dons a Demon-Subduing Double-Horned Helmet. He drapes a Blood-Red Brocade Kasaya as a cloak and wields an iron monk’s staff weighing a hundred and eight thousand pounds! When he swings it, the wind howls. A slight tap shatters bones, a mere bump caves in flesh. A graze means death, and a glancing blow means grievous injury!
"Wukong is the Ghost Knight Demon Monarch from another world! Clad in Nether Copper Cyan Rainbow Armor, stepping in Yama’s Helpless Boots, and wearing a rusty gold faceless mask. He wields the Ghost-slaying Cyan Rainbow Sword and raises a Demon-Exorcising Talisman! Though his physical shell is nothing but empty bones, his soul is endlessly fascinating! The Buddha said, ’If one sees me by form, or seeks me by voice, they cannot see the Tathagata.’ All flesh is just a dime a dozen—nothing but white bones—but a soul that is one in a million achieves true perfection!"
Talia couldn’t help but laugh out loud, then gave two dry coughs.
"I’m really glad I have you here to spout nonsense with me in a situation like this." She chuckled softly. "Of course, on a more serious note, if we team up with other adventurers, we still need to build a believable persona as ascetic monks bound by vows. Maybe unsmiling? Taciturn? Or maybe a bit unhinged and mystical?"
"Can’t it be a playful monk? ...Fine. Understood, Master," Samael replied. "Trust me, I’m a hardcore veteran of *Dark Souls 1*. I have a lot of experience when it comes to being a Royal City Pilgrim and the Chosen Undead."
The two chatted all the way as they crossed the wasteland.
As they advanced, the surrounding environment began to lose much of its thorny vegetation. Animal skeletons became increasingly scarce, and the Rot Root Balls and Slime Monsters that used to peek out from the shadows of the wasteland were now almost nowhere to be seen. A building vaguely appeared on the distant horizon. It was the fortress wall of the Adventurer’s Alliance stronghold.
Talia suddenly stopped in her tracks.
"What’s wrong... what is that?" Samael, walking absentmindedly while splitting his focus to analyze the data labyrinth, accidentally bumped into Talia’s back. He peeked over her pauldron.
CAW! CAW! Two crow cries rang out.
A colossal, grotesque tree with gnarled roots stood anchored before them. Its thick branches, twisted and squeezed by massive burls, stretched out in all directions like the ribs of a giant umbrella. Hanging from these branches by hemp ropes, like abundant autumn fruit, were half-air-dried, mutilated corpses.
The corpses were dressed in coarse clothing and equipped with worn, cheap, and crude gear. Suspended in mid-air, they swayed gently in the wind.
A flock of scavenging crows circled above. Demon Crows covered the entire tree. Like musical notes from the eerie classical piece "In the Hall of the Mountain King," they arranged themselves along the twisted staff formed by the branches. As they pecked at the corpses, they tilted their heads, fixing their blood-red eyes on the two travelers.