After work, start to speedrun the other world-Chapter 195 - 62 Thorough Night... Massacre and Tomorrow’s Judgement (Part 2)
"You call this..." Before he could finish his sentence, a black crescent moon slashed toward him, and he dodged it in a panic.
Several more black crescent moons shot toward him, and before the werewolf could fully regain his footing, he was completely sliced into...chunks, then burned to ash by the black flames that stained him.
Effortlessly, Horne, hailed as a genius assassin, died.
Little Red Riding Hood, having crawled out of the lake, stared blankly at the scene, as if she hadn’t fully grasped what had happened.
Unless Ahtal had known about Horne in advance and used long-range methods to snipe him, victory in this battle should have been theirs.
The normal turn of events should have been Horne finding an opportunity to trade his life for Ahtal’s, and then herself, waiting on the sidelines, would resurrect Horne before the time limit passed.
But what actually happened was Ahtal summoned an unknown woman in black who left not even a trace of Horne’s ashes.
"Why did it turn out like this?" Little Red Riding Hood muttered to herself, then looked up at Miss Black Blade, who had appeared beside her and raised the Great Sword of Death high before slashing down.
Consciousness halted abruptly at that moment.
After completing all this, Miss Black Blade turned and disappeared, beginning a slaughter of the cultists of the Church of Blood until every one of them in the city was killed.
Like a ghost, silent and deadly.
Miss Black Blade moved through the streets, cutting down any cultist of the Church of Blood she encountered. On the busy streets, where cultists on a stroll suddenly had their heads severed, spurting blood as they fell, the passersby didn’t even realize who had done it.
And as this eerie scene kept recurring, word quickly spread throughout the Cardilon Kingdom, making people realize something was amiss.
Someone... or something that looked like a person was hunting the cultists of the Church of Blood.
Meanwhile.
At a branch of the Church of Blood.
In its depths.
A personal Prayer Hall.
"Bang!" The door was suddenly kicked open, and in walked a Knight clad in silver armour, a dead priest hanging from the spear he carried.
With a flick of his spear, the priest’s body was thrown at the feet of the statue, his eyes wide open in death, as if pleading for help from the statue of the God of Blood above.
It was as if he was seeking salvation.
The bishop of the cultists of the Church of Blood looked at this scene, opened his mouth, and asked, "Why... How did you get here?"
He had clearly hired a legend, an exceedingly reliable mercenary with a hundred percent success rate on missions.
Why had it failed when it came to him?
"I fought my way here," Xi Mu replied nonchalantly, stepping closer to the bishop, "You actually dared to stay? Didn’t run away?"
"Hmph," the bishop of the cultists of the Church of Blood snorted coldly, flinging off his cloak and then reaching into the void with a grasp, blood gushing from his palm coalescing into a scythe.
"Do you know why I’m a bishop?"
In this world with gods, being part of the clergy comes with a specific assessment process. The better the application of prayers to the corresponding deity, the higher the position held.
And those who can use the corresponding deity’s prayers skillfully... it means they are stronger. Thus, one can conclude:
The higher the clergy’s rank, the stronger they are.
"Ahtal, you can still stay out of this!" The bishop flung the Blood Scythe, and the slice composed of blood grazed past Xi Mu.
Xi Mu responded with action, as his long spear shot out, colliding with the bishop’s scythe.
Sparks flew.
In the confined space of the Prayer Hall, the spear and scythe clashed, the spreading shockwaves shattering rows of benches.
With their current power, they could instantaneously bring down the Prayer Hall if they wished, but the battle wasn’t about destroying objects.
It was about killing the adversary. The extent of destruction to objects around them didn’t reflect the strength they each possessed.
"Don’t think I’m inferior to your heroes!" the bishop clenched his blood scythe which transformed into a long whip.
With a forceful flick, he entangled Xi Mu’s spear, while his other hand gushed blood, transforming into a new spear that shot out.
But when he saw Ahtal grin, teeth flashing with a hint of flame, the spear abruptly changed into a shield.
"Boom!" Hot dragon’s breath erupted, engulfing the bishop in flames and setting the entire Prayer Hall ablaze. A column of intense fiery light pierced through, erasing a corner of the Church of Blood’s branch.
Along with it, any cultists who had not fled were also incinerated.
Thud, thud, thud—
Footsteps approached.
With one arm cradling his wound, the bishop looked at the approaching silver-armoured Knight and suddenly asked a question, "Who exactly are you?"
"Didn’t Liliana tell you?" Xi Mu feigned confusion, "I am the thief who stole the power of the dragon."
The bishop: "..."
When Ahtal had arrived in Cardilon, he had arranged for Liliana to surveil Ahtal, to report all the information she gathered.
Yet, throughout the entire time, he had never heard from Liliana that Ahtal had stolen the power of a dragon.
How the damned lying disciple had worked.
"If you want to spy on me, you should send someone trustworthy," Xi Mu said coldly, then hurled his spear forward, the wind that coalesced around it carrying the touch of death, as if it had been shot from the muzzle of a gun.
Even though the bishop was prepared, conjuring a blood barrier and swiftly changing his location, he was still pierced in the right shoulder by the spear, which dragged him backward in flight.
And then, Xi Mu shot another blast of Dragon Breath.
The fiery Dragon Breath, like a transported sun, struck the flying bishop directly.
