Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 56: The Peacekeeper

After a brief, close-up—no, practically indirect—conversation, Ince Zangwell accepted the invitation from "The Witch" Panadia.

Given what he did in Tingen, it won't just be the Church of the Night that's after him; the Church of the Lord of Storms and the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery will also put him on the wanted list, and the Church of the Night will intensify its efforts to hunt him down.

Although Backlund's complex form made it easy to hide, it was still difficult for him to remain in hiding under the warrants of the three major orthodox churches.

Cooperating with the Witch Cult would allow him to establish a connection with the Royal Family of Rune. In Rune, in Backlund, there was no power more suitable for him than the Royal Family of Rune. In that case, he could not only evade the Church's wanted list, but also live a very good life.

It was for this reason that he agreed to the witch's invitation.

As he was thinking, his hand unconsciously rested on Panatia's slender and supple waist.

The latter did not resist; in fact, she even went along with it. The two, like lovers in the throes of Intis's passionate romance, snuggled together intimately in public as they walked toward the nearest hotel.

Behind them, the blond priest, dressed in a simple white robe, withdrew his gaze and turned his head toward the area where the public carriages were parked.

"He has become aware of and understands his own traits, and can even make use of them, which is faster than I expected."

"Perhaps the psychological suggestion I left was too weak, or perhaps the progress was too fast during this period."

"Fortunately, he has already found a stable anchor in this world, and has his own ideas and goals, which is a good start."

"I saw a saying deep in his heart: Dreams are the starting point of everything."

A gentle breeze happened to blow by at that moment, rustling the leaves as if someone was agreeing with His confession.

.....

Cyril took the metal box he found on the road to Owen for a divination. Only after confirming that the contents of the box would not pose a danger to him did he dare to open it.

There was a keyhole on the side of the tightly sealed metal box. He glanced at it briefly; it wasn't a lock with extraordinary strength.

He simply reached out and lightly tapped the surface of the metal box twice, then pressed down hard with his right hand, and the metal box opened by itself with a click.

A brown parchment fell out of the box and was caught by Sirion. He then looked inside the box and his eyes lit up.

Inside the metal box was a rather ornate, somewhat dazzling, bright silver pistol, with several gemstones engraved with strange patterns around the sides of the gun.

It was so ornate that it resembled some expensive magic prop rather than a weapon or magical item used in battle.

Cyril reached out and gripped the gun handle, a surge of courage welling up within him, a courage to defeat all enemies. It wasn't just courage, but also a tangible strength; he felt he could kill a bull with a single punch.

After a while, he realized that it was just an illusion. Although he couldn't kill a bull with one punch, knocking a strong adult male flying with one punch was not a problem.

After examining the silver pistol, which was so ornate it didn't look like a weapon, for a while, he looked down at the parchment placed next to the gun.

The writing was in Fursak, each line neat and tidy, as if it had been printed. Cyril narrowly suspected that the person was afraid of exposing his bad handwriting.

"Fortunately, the history department at Backlund University offers a course in Old Fussac. After gaining some basic knowledge, I taught myself Modern Fussac. Although face-to-face communication is difficult, I can still understand some books and documents."

He muttered something under his breath, then calmed himself and began to read the contents of the parchment:

My dearest Greta:

I have crafted those materials into a powerful weapon according to your requirements. To make it more comfortable for you to use, I have also used some of my own reserve materials to reshape its appearance.

You will definitely be satisfied. It is so gorgeous, like a work of art, and it is a perfect match for your beauty, just like mine.

I'm thinking of naming it the Silver Spear, but that's just my idea. Although the name is perfect, complete, and highlights its characteristics, I still want to respect your opinion, dear Greta.

It automatically transforms the ordinary bullets loaded in the magazine into holy silver bullets with anti-magic and purifying effects. However, this requires a certain amount of time and spiritual energy. The longer it takes, the more spiritual energy is generated, and the greater the power of the holy silver bullets. However, there is an upper limit, and it can only reach the level between sequence 7 and sequence 6 at most.

Dear Greta, I suggest you convert more Holy Silver Bullets in your spare time, since battles can always come unexpectedly.

Besides converting holy silver bullets, the holy silver gun has two other extraordinary abilities. One is "Bullet Storm," which unleashes a barrage of bullets from the magazine in a short period of time, creating a smaller, weakened version of "Dawn Storm."

The other is "Dawn Mark". Every bullet fired by the Holy Silver Spear will form a Dawn Mark after hitting the target. This allows you to lock onto the enemy. At the same time, when the Dawn Marks are stacked to a certain level, they will burst from the inside out, bringing a lot of damage.

Unfortunately, the "Dawn Mark" cannot be activated actively and is easily removed. This is not because my skills are not good enough, but because I am limited by the materials and can only do this much.

Oh, right, dear Greta, this gun actually has another, albeit not very useful, ability that I call "Silver Light Heavy Gun." It can gather a large amount of pure, holy silver-white dawn light on the gun body, at which point it will become a powerful melee weapon.

But as you know, it's just a fancy, portable pistol, not suitable for smashing or vandalizing.

The negative effect of the Holy Silver Spear is that it makes the wielder hyperactive, courageous, and fearless, and averse to all fighting, even a joking banter.

Believe me, Greta, this is by no means a positive effect. You should not use it for more than 10 minutes at a time in combat, and no more than 3 times a day.

Carrying it around won't affect anything, but conflicts always tend to break out near this gun, or rather, it's drawn to places where conflicts have already occurred or are about to occur.

My dearest Greta, I hope you are satisfied with this weapon. I will continue to improve my skills and reforge this gun for you once I find the right materials.

The final signature reads: "Ethan Love, who has always loved you quietly and implicitly."

Cyril's lips twitched slightly. He really wanted to say that this guy was neither reserved nor silent. He kept calling her "dear Greta" after just a few words. He was so secretly flirtatious.

He flicked his finger lightly, and the parchment flew through the air in an arc, landing precisely in the hand of Owen, who was craning his neck to look at him curiously.

He then looked at the Holy Silver Spear in his hand and carefully put it back into the metal box.

"It doesn't increase strength at all, meaning that the feeling I had when I punched a strong adult male was just an illusion brought on by a burst of courage?"

"This is a bit dangerous. Excessive courage can turn into recklessness and blindness. Holding this gun for too long might suddenly give rise to the courage to challenge a demigod."

"As for the fact that I hate all fighting, I guess you'll only feel it when you go out."

"The name 'Holy Silver Spear' doesn't sound very good. Let's just call it... 'Peacemaker.' It hates all fighting, yet it's always drawn to places where conflicts have already occurred or are about to occur. Isn't that what it wants to do to bring peace to places where conflicts break out?"

"Although this peace may crumble and cause conflict for everyone..."

On the other sofa, Owen was looking at Cyril with a "what nonsense are you talking about?" expression.

He had originally intended to exclaim how powerful this magical item seemed, and how lucky he was, but then he heard the Peacekeeper of Cyril's words, and his mouth, which had just opened, froze on his face, unsure of what to say.

Cyril looked up at him. "Is it wrong to call a gun that so despises fighting a messenger of peace?"

"No, whatever makes you happy." Owen shook his head expressionlessly.

Cyril shrugged, took the parchment from him, and rubbed his fingers together. The parchment, filled with Ethan Love's affection, instantly burst into flames, turning into a small pile of ashes in two or three seconds.