Chapter 312: The Thief

Theft is fairly common, generally speaking.

Since it usually involves minor financial losses, it doesn’t warrant the attention of Seranthiel’s formal members.

In the past, if Helag saw something like this, he would have ignored it.

Standing on Cavat’s commercial street for ten minutes, you’d see several such incidents.

Helag wouldn’t normally bother with such matters. If he did, he’d spend all his time catching thieves and nothing else.

What caught his attention this time was the Abyssal aura he sensed from the child.

The aura was particularly strong around the child’s left hand.

Helag and Reese slowly followed the boy, with Helag observing closely.

He noticed that the Abyssal aura seemed to emanate entirely from the boy’s left hand.

The hand looked lifeless, almost like an enchanted item.

More importantly, the boy was just an ordinary person—not a wizard apprentice or a knight, and physically weak.

Yet, his left hand had the power to steal.

This was highly unusual.

Helag felt as if contribution points were beckoning to him.

He observed the boy, who, thinking he hadn’t been noticed, continued to roam Cavat’s commercial street, picking targets to steal from.

The boy wore a spatial ring on his left hand, where he stored the stolen items.

Helag followed him for about half an hour, during which the boy stole three times.

Reese noticed Helag’s change in demeanor but didn’t know what was happening.

She remained silent, still holding Helag’s arm as if they were just shopping.

With so many people around, Helag couldn’t explain the situation to Reese.

Even though there were no Abyssal cultists nearby, there could be people associated with them.

Not every Abyssal cultist carries the Abyssal aura.

Many serve the Abyssal Plane without showing any signs of its influence.

Only a few receive blessings from the dark gods of the Abyssal Plane, gaining the aura after proving themselves.

Some become influenced by items like Max’s carved sculptures, which lead them to communicate with the dark gods, thus gaining the aura.

Others, eager to serve the Abyssal Plane, haven’t yet made contact with the dark gods.

With so many people around, Helag kept quiet.

He and Reese continued following the boy from a distance.

As they passed a narrow alley, Helag pulled Reese in.

These alleys were often frequented by couples at night, seeking a moment of privacy.

Though less common during the day, it wasn’t unheard of.

Once inside, Helag leaned against the wall, pulling Reese close.

Reese wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss.

After a brief moment of intimacy, Helag cast a soundproof spell around them and whispered in Reese’s ear, “I think I’ve found traces of an Abyssal cultist. I need to keep following him. Two people would be too conspicuous. You should head back; I’ll return once I’m done.”

Reese replied softly, “Alright.”

Though she wanted to help, she trusted Helag’s judgment.

If he didn’t want her to follow, she wouldn’t insist.

Given the situation, any delay might mean losing the target.

“Sorry…”

Helag felt guilty. He had promised to spend the day with her, but now he had to pursue an Abyssal cultist.

Reese smiled sweetly. “It’s okay. Do you think I care about that? I’m not some spoiled girl.”

Helag patted her head and then called a carriage to take her back from Cavat’s commercial street.

After Reese left, Helag glanced down the street where the boy continued searching for targets.

Keeping his head down, Helag moved forward, occasionally stopping to browse the street stalls and make small purchases.

He knew the thief was just a small player.

To earn more contribution points, he needed to catch the bigger fish behind the scenes.

Helag had a feeling he might uncover something significant this time.

Stolen goods need to be fenced, and fencing requires connections.

The boy had stolen many valuable items but was just an ordinary person with no real power.

He couldn’t possibly hold onto the stolen goods, meaning there had to be others involved.

***

Alda kept his left hand in his pocket, never taking it out.

He knew that while his left hand looked normal, it was blessed by the gods and shouldn’t be shown to others.

Though ordinary people wouldn’t notice, a powerful wizard might, and that would be trouble.

Alda knew he came from humble beginnings, lacking both talent and strength.

He admired the noble wizards, longing to be like them.

But reality was harsh—without talent, he couldn’t become a wizard or gain their power.

Wizards could live for centuries, even millennia.

As a commoner, Alda’s lifespan was less than a century.

He found this unfair and sought other ways to gain strength.

He wanted extraordinary power.

Then one day, Alda encountered a god. Witnessing the god’s power, he knew this was what he had been searching for.

The god was merciful, offering extraordinary power and abilities regardless of talent.

Alda glanced at his left hand in his pocket, a gift from the god.

With this hand, he could steal anything within a few meters that he could see.

He had stolen many valuables, but it wasn’t enough.

Wizards believed in equivalent exchange. While the god was merciful, Alda didn’t want to disappoint him.

He aimed to steal as much as possible, then hand it over to Mr. Diglan, who would fence the goods for money.