NOVPUBChapter 713: Chapter 99 Bram: It’s All for the Plot Chapter 713 -99 Bram: It’s All for the Plot Bram Stoker reclined leisurely on a chair at the inn, casually flipping through a heavy ancient tome resting on his thighs.
A full glass of red wine was placed beside him.
After a while, he closed the book and set it aside.
He lifted himself up and raised the wine glass to the sunlight.
The wine in the glass was not clear but rather appeared somewhat viscous.
Under the sunlight shining through the window, black matter, like living things, flowed within the transparent red liquid.
They looked like tiny parasitical worms made of black solid.
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Bram swirled the wine glass contentedly and tapped it with his finger.
Stimulated by external forces, the black tendrils inside the glass danced rapidly together.
The cloudier parts coalesced into a ball the size of a date, with several black tendrils pulsing like veins.
“——It’s still not concentrated enough,”
Bram commented.
He took a glass vial from his bosom and dripped a few drops of blood into it.
The blood floated on the top of the wine, looking like a pool of oil.
Then he cut open his own wrist and let his blood drop into it as well.
As the two kinds of blood mixed together, they sank down.
The formed “heart” shattered once again under the force and dispersed into the wine.
“All right, take a break,”
Bram said leisurely, “Let’s have some lunch, and we’ll continue afterward.”
In a corner of the room, an old troll with runes covering its naked upper body knelt before the stove.
Upon hearing the instruction, it silently began tidying up.
The troll put the black herbs back into the herb bag, caught the leeches and put them into a jar, then added a transparent liquid that looked like oil.
It rose silently, its hunched back appearing very oppressive.
The troll’s back and abdomen were full of scars, and the muscles on its waist and back were twisted like hemp ropes.
Its face was aged and shriveled, with the chin clenched and neck muscles bulging, resembling the muscles on a sailor’s forearm.
“As for you, you’re idle anyway.
Help me lock onto Aiwass’s location with a curse,”
Bram rested his arm on his knee, smiling and tossing the old troll a large paper bag filled with golden fried chicken, “Consider it payment for food…eat first.
You listen to me.”
“——Don’t worry about causing trouble; this has nothing to do with you.
In fact, let me tell you about where you will go next.
It might give you some peace of mind.”
Watching the old troll devour the fried chicken greedily, Bram smilingly raised his wine glass and swirled it.
“Parthian Ancient Country, you know it.
There’s a Benevolent Lord there named Adil, called Generous Adil.
“He now needs a reliable Curse Ritual Mage…and in Parthia, anyone you recruit could be a spy from other cities.
Therefore, a Troll Wizard summoned from the southern continent is very precious…”
As he spoke, he suddenly drew a simplistic rune in the air.
The old troll’s body flushed red, as if a light had turned on under its skin — the kind of red you see when light from a flashlight shines through the palm, observed from the back of the hand.
It convulsed painfully, its body muscles twitching visibly, and shrank into a ball.
It spit out the fried chicken it had just ingested — not as vomit, but out of fear of choking.
Even then, the old troll made not a single sound…even though its neck was stretched and flushed red, it did not emit any cries of pain or pleas for mercy.
“Tsk.”
Seeing this, Bram clicked his tongue in slight displeasure, clenched his fist, and stopped punishing the old troll.
He tossed the half-empty bottle of red wine to the old troll and casually leaned back, “Following him won’t spare you from suffering.
Although resources are scarce in Parthia, the Benevolent Lords’ side is hardly worse than the Holy Nation’s.
Even in the desert, it doesn’t get too hot—there are plenty of ice makers to maintain the temperature.
“Though you’re getting old, they can still offer you magic potions to extend your life. 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘱𝘶𝑏.𝑐𝘰𝑚
If you want women, they’ve got them.
All kinds of races, even elves are not impossible to arrange.
If you prefer animals, Gryphons, Pegasus, perhaps even dragons…
The Benevolent Lords have it all, and can get you anything.
It’s almost as if that’s the real homeland for goblins.
“Is it interesting to get soaked in rain on the Southern Continent, bitten by insects, gnawing on tree bark every day?
So, we’re not exactly enemies.
This is a matter of mutual benefit—I send you to a better place and make a little travel money on the side.
You should try not to look so grim all the time…
“On the other hand, since you’re going to Parthia anyway, which is far from the Holy Nation.
Even if you committed something here, no one would chase you there.
Originally, if you did something there, you just needed to hide in the desert; with a white turban on, you could hide in other cities.
Since the cities don’t share information, they can’t even catch their own criminals, let alone you.
“That’s the significance of a Cursing Sorcerer.
If people can’t be caught, there should still be a way to punish them.
Whether they’re truly cursed to death doesn’t really matter; what’s key is that it looks frightening, that’s enough to keep people scared…”
As he spoke, Bram sized up the silent old troll standing in front of him.
This old creature, if standing straight, would measure three meters tall.
Even in a Holy Nation filled with elves, that was undoubtedly tall.
His body looked lean but wasn’t weak.
The dry skin and taut muscles made him resemble a werewolf, dangerous in appearance.
“…I came specifically to find you because you have a widespread reputation on the Southern Continent.”
He smiled faintly, “You killed your own father, your uncle, all your brothers, and your cousins.
After killing so many, the Beast Song Tribe prospered under your leadership…
And all of this, ultimately, is because you were once a slave to the Star Antimony people.”
At this, the old troll suddenly raised his head, his sharp and blood-red pupils resembling those of a hungry wolf in the outskirts.
But Bram didn’t react at all, “Yes, I’ve heard about your past.
You were sold to Star Antimony, and through self-study mastered their language.
You served your master as a ritual assistant, covertly learned his curse spells and rituals, then you killed him, boarded a small boat yourself, and rowed back to the Southern Continent—a twenty-eight-day drift.”
“After all, you ‘studied abroad’ in the civilized world, so your insights are different from your ignorant kin.
Now, more than sixty years have passed, and you’ve grown old, stepping down from the role of tribal chieftain…
When I previously interviewed you, you contributed some great material.
I must say, my novel with you as the protagonist sold really well in Iris Flower.
“They used the novel to satirize Star Antimony people for buying slaves, and also to subtly criticize the trolls’ violence and untrustworthiness.
My writing is excellent; I vividly chronicled the perils of your twenty-eight-day sea adventure—of course, I know you spent the month catching fish.
But to highlight human nature and plot conflicts, I wrote about you and your companions escaping together, and then due to hunger, you consumed one of them.”
“…Babimu wasn’t killed by me.”
Suddenly, the old troll spoke, “I certainly didn’t eat her.”
His was the first time he had spoken, his voice aged and hoarse, “I told you before, she accidentally fell overboard.
The wind and waves were too strong…
I was too hungry to hold on to her.”
Bram pressed his hands down, “I know, I know.
But that doesn’t quite make sense…
Reality doesn’t have to make sense, but a novel has to pursue plausibility—if you kill off a major character who has been developed for a long time due to something like a storm, readers will find it too simplistic.”
“But that’s the truth…”
“This serves the story’s tension—you wouldn’t understand.
Anyway, you consumed your lover…”
“She wasn’t my wife, I didn’t know her before that.”
“It’s fine, it could be a one-day marriage.
Anyway, you ate her, in agony and firmly.
This has shaped you into a hero of stature.
You have quite a reputation in Parthia.
You could even say you’re the epitome of a Troll Wizard.”
Bram’s lips curved into a slight grin, “That’s why someone came to buy the ‘original character model’ from me.
I got the chance to introduce you to such a great job, old friend.
The Benevolent Lord saw the novel and wanted to invite you over.
“For your own safety, it’s best to cooperate.
We’ll align our stories.
The brags I made up, just agree with them, they’re all for the storyline and expressing the author’s sentiments.
Anyway, besides you and me, no one else knows it’s not true…”
As he was speaking, he suddenly jerked, his whole demeanor instantly turned serious.
Like a spider touched on its web, he sprang up from the couch in an instant.
His whole being transformed into a streak of grey light, zipping into the house.
But just then, time around them began to slow down.
The light of noon contracted, and everything inside the room became dim.
The crimson wine glasses also dulled, and their contents seemed to turn black.
Amidst spreading dim yellow light,
Bram’s fleeing figure was suddenly frozen in mid-air!
