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Now reading: Chapter 33 Did I Become a Stand-in? (Please follow and read! from Diary of Guarding Monster Girls, a Fantasy novel by Bahrain.

"The situation seems a bit tricky."

Stared at by everyone’s scrutinizing eyes, Herbert felt a slight tension in his back, pursing his lips slightly.

Suspicion, speculation, even outright hostility... He endured all this malice from others on his own.

Regarding the current situation where he was being viewed with hostility, Herbert actually understood their behavior—if he thought about it purely rationally.

As soone who had only been here for a little over a month and had not fully integrated into the Mist Monastery, Herbert was an outsider in the eyes of others.

And moreover, he was an unpopular kingdom noble, an aloof guy who didn’t interact with others.

So, in the case of a murder happening, who would be the most suspicious among everyone now?

Hey, it’s really !

So, Herbert understood their suspicion and hostility towards him.

But... it was just understanding.

Emotionally, Herbert couldn’t accept the unjust situation of being treated as a suspect.

Because he hadn’t done it.

It wasn’t . Why am I being treated like this?

Based on what?

Besides, he was forced to co here because of a wrongful conviction.

It already happened once; does it have to happen a second ti?

Moreover, although Herbert understood the importance of cooperating with the investigation, he couldn’t trust others so naively.

While in the Kingdom, although he was wrongfully imprisoned, no one dared to torture him.

But here?

The Great mory Recovery Skill isn’t just a thing of the past; coerced confessions have always been an old global tradition.

Are there any good people in the Judgent Hall!

Do these angry judges really care about his noble status?

No, they don’t.

These guys would rather mistakenly kill than let go, at most providing the highest level of recovery treatnt afterwards—but what damn good is that!

Being able to heal back to normal doesn’t an the pain suffered can be easily forgotten.

The wounds might eventually heal, but the scars left behind will never completely disappear.

A university student who just wanted to fall in love was abused to the point of having white hair, changing his entire personality.

I’m already white-haired now; there’s no need to go through that particularly.

So, Herbert absolutely couldn’t show weakness at this mont, let alone proactively cooperate with the investigation!

Having made up his mind, Herbert’s expression changed slightly, letting out a light hum.

"Hah."

His expression remained calm, his gaze turned disdainful, and the corners of his mouth slightly curled up, facing everyone’s gazes with a neither humble nor arrogant stance.

But Herbert did not actively question.

He was waiting.

He knew that at this ti, he didn’t need to be proactive; soone would definitely lose patience first and start attacking him, the "suspect."

Sure enough.

He didn’t have to wait long before an angry voice broke the silence of the hall.

"What are you all waiting for!?"

A tall bald nun stepped out of the crowd, glaring at Herbert, her right hand gripping tightly as she growled through gritted teeth, "Why don’t you take down this murderer!"

All eyes fell on her, and so people obviously had the intention to act but paused upon seeing that the middle-aged Punishnt Nun had not moved.

The middle-aged Punishnt Nun did not imdiately follow the bald nun’s incitent to act against Herbert, but slowly asked, "Why do you think he is the murderer? I don’t think his strength is enough to harm Frank."

Hearing this, so cultivators frowned slightly.

That’s right, judging from his strength... it doesn’t seem sufficient.

"Because he is the Desecrator!"

The bald nun, however, remained steadfast in her belief and said boldly, "That day, I saw him coming out of the kitchen! He must have done sothing to those grass carps!"

Grass carps?

Herbert blinked, feeling that the direction of the situation was sowhat off.

Wait a minute, am I going to be a stand-in!? That really wasn’t !

Without giving Herbert ti to explain, another cultivator’s expression changed upon hearing "grass carps," hesitated a mont, and then raised his hand, saying slowly:

"Well, I also once found desecration traces by the Well of Mourning; that day... he also passed by there."

Both of them had vaguely discovered so evidence of desecration but held back from telling others due to lack of concrete proof of the offender and fear of alerting them prematurely.

And coincidentally—during those instances, Herbert had alibis.

Oh no.

This can’t be explained clearly.

Just as Herbert was about to explain, his pupils shrank suddenly.

A surge of malice flooded towards him, even more intense than before!

When "Desecrator" was ntioned, the cultivators, who seed to be showing signs of calm, suddenly revealed their beastly blood-stained fangs, tearing away their facade.

Countless sinister eyes from all around the hall fell on him, seemingly ready to pounce and judge him at any mont.

Just like Herbert’s initial judgnt, the ascetics had no qualms about exterminating potential heretics.

Even if the ’potential heretic’ had lived and eaten with them for a whole month and could call out their nas, it was the sa.

Heretics, kill on sight.

Eliminating heretics took precedence over hunting down the murderer!

"..."

The inflating malice almost engulfed Herbert. One wrong step and he’d fall into the abyss completely; however, at that mont, he felt unexpectedly calm.

Upon calming down, he even wanted to laugh a little.

Herbert did not react but silently looked around, calmly eting the eyes of the cultivators.

So would et his gaze, but more would instinctively look away.

"Hah."

After scanning his surroundings, he looked towards the leading Punishnt Cultivator and found that she remained as composed as ever.

The Punishnt Nun saw him looking her way and asked calmly, "Herbert, do you have anything to explain?"

Herbert nodded but then shook his head.

He didn’t explain anything to the Punishnt Nun but turned to face the two cultivators who "reported" him, asking in an extrely calm tone:

"Ivanka, Nun, Jeffs, Cultivator, may I take what you just said to an... that you are questioning my purity?"

Explain?

Explain what?

[Rule of Engagent #1: Don’t try to prove yourself; don’t get dragged into their rhythm.]

Without waiting for their response, Herbert directly unwrapped the bandage on his left hand, raised it high with the blood still not completely dried.

The next mont.

Brilliant golden light burst from the back of his hand, the dazzling Holy Mark piercing everyone’s eyes like a Holy Sword.

That was—the Purity Holy Mark!?

It was only then that so cultivators realized what oath Herbert had taken.

The Oath of Purity.

If Herbert were the Desecrator, then what was this genuine Holy Mark?

It couldn’t possibly be an illusion, could it?

Amidst the clamor, everyone heard Herbert’s second question.

He said:

"So, are you questioning the deity who bestowed blessings upon ?"

[Rule of Engagent #2: Only attack, never defend, unparalleled in the world!]

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