Stano suddenly took full control of this frail body. For a moment, he couldn’t react, and nearly stumbled to the ground.

He’d never felt so weak before.

Leticia had never lost consciousness before, so no one knew what would happen when she did.

Now, it was clear.

While Leticia was offline, Stano’s mind had somehow crossed over here through that mysterious connection. He could not only feel his original body, but also freely use this one.

It was an incredibly strange sensation. Two different fields of vision were blending together, and two different sets of sensations were intertwining. Stano had no idea what to do.

His hands felt the sharp sting of coarse sand scraping against them, while his arms felt the soft, smooth touch of the velvet blanket on his bed back in his room. The fatigue in his limbs and the burning in his lungs clashed with the comfort of his own body, easing the strain enough that Stano didn’t feel completely overwhelmed.

It was an experience unlike any other!

But the situation was urgent, and the boy had no idea what this all meant. So he could only summon every last bit of strength he had and desperately try to relax his original body’s sensations, letting himself borrow Bamboo Pole’s body more fully.

“She must’ve passed out. Her condition’s a little bad. Did I push her too hard...?”

Stano dropped onto the raised strip of earth beside the field. He was barely holding on, too. Even moving this body a little felt like having a thousand-jin weight pressed down on him. It was incredibly difficult.

With no other choice, Stano braced his exhausted body and quietly took in his surroundings.

This might have been the first time he’d truly come to this city called Rhodes.

Leticia had once come here with her uncle. At her request, Stano had looked around through her eyes, but it hadn’t meant much to him. The city wasn’t particularly prosperous, and the place where Stano lived was far better.

But this time, he was seeing the place through his own consciousness. It was a very strange feeling.

But before he could ponder philosophical questions like whether the self was defined by one’s own perception or by one’s body, Stano heard a few people hurrying past nearby say, “Come on, we’re going to miss it!”

Miss what? What were they going to miss?

Only then did Stano remember the thought that had been buried beneath all those strange sensations.

He’d seen a scene like this before.

In a city, countless people were streaming toward one place. More guards were gathering at the gates, and among them were several priests, keeping order.

This was what it looked like before an execution.

Someone was about to be executed here!

“No!”

The ominous feeling in his heart grew stronger. Stano clenched his teeth and dragged his exhausted body toward the city.

“Child, wait a moment.”

A monk stationed beside the city gate suddenly called out to him. Stano turned and saw the monk smiling kindly. “Could you come over here for a moment?”

“Your Reverence.”

Though his body was exhausted, Stano’s long years of proper upbringing still made him respond with impeccable manners. The gesture looked a little out of place coming from someone who appeared to be a frail, exhausted little girl.

The ordinary monk seemed to find it a little odd, but didn’t pay it much mind. If anything, Stano’s respectful way of addressing him pleased him greatly. Smiling, he said, “There’s no need to be so formal. I mean you no harm, child.”

He was only an ordinary monk who helped with the church’s daily affairs. He was hardly a priest, so naturally, being respectfully addressed as one by a child felt pretty good.

“May I ask what you need, Your Reverence?”

Stano asked patiently. Even standing still made him feel as if he might collapse at any moment.

“Nothing much. I just saw that you were alone and looked a little unusual, so I thought I’d ask.”

The ordinary monk came over and touched Stano’s forehead. “You’re covered in sweat, child. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“It’s like this, Your Reverence.”

Stano’s mind raced. “My master said he wanted to train me, so he sent me out of the city to look for some necessary materials. He also set a time limit, but I ran into a bit of trouble, and I... I failed...”

Stano told this lie without blushing or missing a beat, as though he were recounting something that had really happened.

In fact, this was the third time Stano had lied. The first time, he’d bragged in front of outsiders and gotten a taste for it. The second time, he’d lied to his family, and his father had given him a harsh scolding and locked him up for a week. This was the third.

He’d promised that he wouldn’t lie again, from then on.

But not now.

“I see.”

The ordinary monk didn’t suspect a thing. He even filled in some of the story for Stano. “Poor child. Don’t worry. When you get back, tell your master that Monk Kafka of the Rhodes Church can vouch for you—you’re a good child. Hurry back now. It wouldn’t do to break the time limit again.”

He was a kind man.

“Thank you, Your Reverence.”

Stano pretended to ask out of curiosity, “Why is it so busy today? Even you’ve come out here, Your Reverence. Is some important person coming?”

Monk Kafka answered with a hint of confusion, “No. They’re just executing some criminals who’ve broken the law. What is it, child?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Thank you, Your Reverence!”

His heart clenched. Stano wasted no more time and ran straight into the city.

“What a strange child.”

Monk Kafka shook his head with a smile, then turned his attention back to the city gate.

......

“Hah... huh... haa... haa...”

Following the crowd, Stano knew they would lead him to the place he was looking for.

At last, he saw it. A wooden execution platform had been set up in the square.

On the ground, bloodstains with a sharp, acrid smell had dripped all the way along, forming a trail. They’d already turned black, and mosquitoes buzzed around them, setting everyone’s nerves on edge.

On the execution platform, a person on the verge of death knelt as two soldiers supported him and dragged him toward the last stake.

Someone had already been tied to another stake. He’d passed out without making a sound. The grime and blood covering his body made him look like a poor wretch who’d been corrupted by a demon.

Neither of them was his uncle! Thank goodness! There was still hope!

Stano’s spirits lifted, but then he saw a blurred figure appear at the far end of the street.

He was in a pitiful state, wounded all over. His festering wounds had turned septic, and flies and mosquitoes clung to them as two masked soldiers dragged him along.

The third prisoner was still alive, but only for the moment.

Fresh blood was spilled along the road, and this blood, too, splashed onto Stano’s heart.

Like an arrow loosed, something inside his head snapped in an instant.

“Un... Uncle!!!”