Chapter 18: The Gift

Until the very end, those white-robed men never explained the situation to Wang Liang. With the cooperation of the paladins, they easily dispatched all the flying assassins, but afterwards, these white-robed merchants fell into silence. Even the leaders of the group, the Niccolò and Matteo brothers, no longer wished to speak. The atmosphere was so eerily strained that Wang Liang felt deeply uncomfortable.

He wanted to ask something, but Zhao Gongming pulled him back.

“Don’t speak. Whatever you do, don’t say a word right now.”

Seeing the private message from Zhao Gongming, Wang Liang couldn’t help but reply, “Why?”

“The storyline is shifting. Our luck is truly terrible to have encountered something like this.”

“???” Wang Liang had already grown used to using punctuation in his messages. Perhaps, given a little more time, he would start sending emoticons or even memes in their private chats.

“Bad luck. That second-generation named Marco you met was a key character for a large portion of the upcoming plot. Now that he’s dead, more than two-thirds of the planned storyline is ruined. The plotline is being redirected right now, so whatever you do, don’t say a word, understand?

If we speak up, it will signal to the system that we want to intervene in the storyline. The system will then factor our power into the events, maybe even drag us into the plot directly, and we’ll be the fools for it.

That’s the classic ‘NPC-player’ blunder in gaming.”

Wang Liang was puzzled—was that young man called Marco Polo really that important? He seemed so weak.

However, Zhao Gongming and the others didn’t notice Wang Liang’s expression. They all believed that, even if Wang Liang lacked the most basic knowledge, he couldn’t possibly be ignorant of something so fundamental. It was the sort of thing anyone could figure out with a little thought; no explanation was needed.

They were not some clueless side characters from a novel, being asked the way and giving answers stretching as far as the Milky Way.

Precisely because of such assumptions, Wang Liang missed out on a key piece of information. Now, he could only speculate about the connections at play.

Fortunately, at that moment, the shift in the storyline finally came to an end, and the white-robed men had finished dealing with the fallen Loom of Fate.

The special case that could shrink the Loom and store it away was gone, so they wrapped the Loom in white cloth, dismantled two crates, and used rope and wood to assemble a frame, which they set across the backs of two camels.

Only then did they lift the Loom of Fate onto this wooden rack.

It was clear that the Loom was extremely heavy—those two camels, burdened with nothing but the Loom, were already exhausted and reluctant to move forward.

Luckily, the white-robed men knew how to handle camels well enough to coax them along.

It was also apparent that they planned to find a place soon and build a cart to properly transport the exceedingly heavy Loom of Fate.

During this process, the paladins played their part. It was they who hoisted the Loom onto the camels’ backs.

Wang Liang observed their actions and noted that it took at least four paladins working together at full strength to lift the Loom off the ground. Lifting it up to the camels required even more hands.

From this, it was obvious that the paladins were not overwhelmingly strong. Which attribute, then, had they chosen to enhance?

Wang Liang hadn’t figured it out yet. His mindset was gradually shifting from that of a civil official or general to that of a player.

Perhaps this was the assimilating power of the game. Maybe, once Wang Liang discovered that death in this game was not the end—that resurrection, flight, and godlike feats were possible—his transformation would accelerate even further.

Once everything was loaded onto the camels, the group prepared to move on.

At that moment, a white-robed man with a thick beard, appearing to be in his forties, approached, carrying several objects in his hands.

He stopped in front of Niu Xuanguang, and spoke politely, “We owe you a great debt for what happened. If not for your help, our goods may well have been lost. These are a few trinkets we carry with us on the road—not worth much, but please accept them as our token of thanks.”

With that, the white-robed man handed the items to Niu Xuanguang.

Upon seeing them, Niu Xuanguang immediately spoke up in the team channel.

“They’re rather thoughtful. These little gifts are tailored to each of us. Come and collect yours.”

Wang Liang and the others quickly gathered around. The few trinkets had clearly been chosen after careful observation—each was matched to the recipient, their purpose obvious at a glance.

By the time Wang Liang arrived, the others had already taken their gifts. Only a set of short blades, as slender as leeks, and a pair of silver-threaded gloves remained in Niu Xuanguang’s hands.

Niu Xuanguang glanced at Wang Liang, then handed him the gloves.

“These are for you. If you look closely, you’ll see they’re made from special spider silk. Crying Maiden has something similar—it’s quite useful.”

Wang Liang accepted the gloves and, upon inspection, found them to be rather fluffy in appearance, yet pinching them lightly revealed how thin and light they truly were.

He put them on and discovered that they were not only breathable but also did not affect his sense of touch. They were, by any standard, a fine pair of gloves.

[Silverlight (Gloves)]
[Quality: Green]
[Defense: 22]
[Requirements: Strength 2, Constitution 3]
[Special Trait 1: Firm Grip—these gloves are non-slip and waterproof, allowing the wearer to maintain a secure hold on their weapon and granting immunity to disarm effects.]
[Special Trait 2: Sacred Breath—treated with mysterious church power, all these gloves carry a sacred aura that helps the wearer maintain inner calm during battle.]
[Description: Gloves from the Church, standard issue for holy warriors!]

Seeing these properties, Wang Liang could not bring himself to say the gloves were useless.

Noticing Wang Liang’s satisfaction, Niu Xuanguang nodded, then uttered the word “Equip” as he held the short blade. The blade vanished from his hand in an instant.

This puzzled Wang Liang. What did “equip” mean?

With this in mind, Wang Liang found a secluded spot and quietly whispered, “Equip.”

In the next instant, a panel appeared before his eyes, displaying his current appearance. He could also see that, on this character panel, there were twenty-three slots of varying sizes.

They corresponded to helmet, necklace, pauldrons, cloak, breastplate, outfit, surcoat, bracers, gloves, belt, trousers, boots, two rings, two accessories, left and right weapon slots, a ranged weapon slot, and four artifact slots.

Currently, neither the Life-Reaping Blade he held nor the Silverlight gloves he wore were equipped.

All of his equipment slots were empty.