Chapter 72: In the Shadows of Darkness

  "You've done well. It seems you've obtaihe item?"

  Seated on a stone chair, a man cloaked in a bck robe smiled as he looked at the mage before him. His appearance was utterly unremarkable, making him seem like an ordinary person. However, a mere g his face would immediately dispel su illusion.

  Beh the bck robe was a gaunt, yellowed face, as if scorched by embers. His cheeks were marred with patches of hardened material. As he spoke, his facial muscles twitched, and faint sparks could be seen flickeriween the cracks of those patches. Indeed, he seemed like a walking human furnace, radiating sutense heat that anyone near him would be forced to retreat.

  This was a Destruage. They had cast aside the shackles of mortality, using their bodies as furo absorb and harhe boundless fmes from hell. Their veins did not flow with blood but with magma. Their chests did not harbor hearts but roiling torrents of fire.

  In truth, from the moment they absorbed the infernal fmes, they ceased to be human, being something more—a creature born of hellfire.

  "Yes, just as you expected, Master..." Hearing the Destruage's words, the mage before him respectfully bowed his head and reached into his robes, produg a peculiar amethyst ring.

  The mage was a middle-aged man with an ordinary appearance, so pin that he might easily be overlooked. Uhe Destruage, this man wore a luxurious white robe trimmed with gold, adorned on the back with the image of an eagle in flight. In its talons, the eagle clutched a white scale.

  If a spellcaster—like Fio see his robes, she would surely cry out in astonishment. For this symbol beloo one of the most powerful spellcaster anizations on the ti and a ember of the Order Alliahe White Tower of Heaven.

  The mere sight of this emblem would and respect, but to the Destruage, the man before him was nothing more than a pawn, to be discarded once used. A foolish traitor.

  The Destruage's eyes gleamed with a cold smile as he regarded the man. The world viewed the Church of Doom as greedy and evil, yet they did not tolerate betrayal. To any follower of the Church of Doom, the moment they decided to abandon order and embrace chaos aru, they made their final choice.

  They might fight to the death against the guardians of order, but that did not mean they would admire betrayal. To the Destruage, once a decision was made, one had to be responsible for it. Whether one fell into chaos or g to order, they had to remain steadfast until the very end.

  Anyone who made a choid then abaheir faith could never be trusted by the Church of Doom. Their fickle nature revealed their ck of true belief. Whether it was a fanatical pursuit of destru or a staunch defense of order, her was evident in such people.

  In truth, these individuals were nothing more than selfish, foolish pawns with some limited usefulness. They were not like the Twilight Legion, a group of traitors ging together for warmth—a pitiful, weak anization. The pilgrimage oh of destru was a sacred ritual, not to be sullied by the half-hearted.

  Those who wavered could never be allowed to mix in and tarnish it. The Destruage knew why the man before him had betrayed order—it was nothing more than a desire for revenge, family honor, or the death of loved ones—all meaningless. One embraced destru, they had to be prepared to be utterly destroyed themselves.

  Even the faithless would meet an equal fate in the end. The words of the cil of the Dead were indeed wise: No being escape death. And in the face of the impending Day of Destru, all are equal. If not for the fact that he still he man's power, he would have elimihis traitor long ago.

  With this thought, the Destruage suppressed his ihoughts and once again looked at the mage before him. He snapped his fingers, and the ring floated silently into his hand.

  "With this ring, we lift the seal on the border. Very good. The Church of Doom will not fet your tribution. You will get everything you desire. Now, you may leave. Remember, bring the sacrifices on time."

  "Thank you, Master. It is my honor to serve you." Upon hearing the Destruage's words, the middle-aged man's face lit up with a mix of reverend fear. He bowed deeply, suppressing the joy in his heart, and replied in a low voice. Then, a light enveloped him, and in the moment, he vanished into the air.

  As he watched the man leave, a barely disible look of disdain fshed in the Destruage's eyes. In the end, it was merely the ignoranortals. Time stopped.

  As Alex darted out from the bushes, everything around him froze. The wind, shadows, light, even the flickering fmes and flying sparks—all halted in pce. Like a phantom, Alex leaped forward, the cold gleam of his Severing Sword cutting through the air before silently pierg the back of the cultist.

  Righteous Backstab!

  The cultist's body trembled slightly, but there was ion. Alex didn't care. He rolled forward swiftly, simultaneously drawing out his sword and sshing at another cultist.

  Virtuous Ssh!

  The silver bde traced a silent ar the air, slig across the cultist’s neck, before darting like a serpent to pluo the throat of a third cultist.

  Friendship Strike... okay, I 't keep making this up.

  Of course, Alex didn't dare to use any skills. He had stopped time, but time would eventually resume. He could easily unleash a Holy Storm and turn these cultists into dust, but oime resumed, the sound of his skill would also echo out.

  Fortunately, thanks to the Zerg enhas, Alex’s speed was now incredibly fast, almost on par with a speed-boosted Zergling. Not to mention, in the world of Dark Souls, Alex had long mastered the art of effitly eliminating enemies. He moved through the cultists like a ghost, the gleaming sword light slig through them as gently as a breeze.

  In just a blink, with the silver light toug the ground, Alex's figure silently appeared beside the st cultist. He turned his head to gnce back.

  At that moment, time began to flow again.

  "Splurt!"

  Simultaneously, the first cultist Alex had stabbed had his chest burst open, blood spraying out. The cultist's eyes widened in shock. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but colpsed powerlessly to the ground.

  It was like the colpse of dominoes—one by ohe cultists silently fell to the ground, lifeless. Their eyes were wide open, as if they couldn't prehend what had happeo them. They didn't know that they had actually died seds earlier, only now experieng the process.

  All in all, it's quite useful for assassinations.

  Watg the se unfold, Alex o himself. Time manipution in assassinations was indeed uable. If paired with a poison-ced dagger, it could yield eveer results. Even if the target thought they had escaped, Alex could just rewind and try again. Or, like this, deliver a swift, fatal strike areat without the enemy ever having a ce to react.

  In any case, everythi smoothly.

  Sheathing his sword, Alex turned aured to Fina, who was hiding in the bushes.

  Saving lives es first.

  (End of Chapter)

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