The “Dawn’s Children” stationed along the hidden path were more high-spirited than ever, their shouts of vengeance echoing so fiercely that even the distant cultists could hear them.
The mysterious figure in the black robe now faced off against Hugo, who wore a jester mask.
He heard the cries of battle in the distance and spoke hoarsely, “I never expected… that a new military organization would appear so quietly beneath Capital Lucien. Who are you people? What deep-seated grudge do you have against the Thieves’ Guild?”
“Yeah… why is that, I wonder?” Hugo struck a Kamen Rider pose as he replied in confusion, “I’ve been searching for the answer myself!”
He wasn’t lying.
He didn’t know the specifics about the “Dawn’s Children” or the “Mutual Aid Association,” nor did he have any idea about the complete plan behind tonight’s raid.
He really had just been dragged here by his good brother Allen to act as the team’s ace fighter—and he was thoroughly enjoying it, feeling a great sense of accomplishment.
As for this cultist before him—this was exactly the strong opponent Hugo had been waiting for, someone he could truly go all out against!
Those so-called elite guards and trusted lieutenants of the Thieves’ Guild’s leaders had already been cut down by him, like weeds before a scythe.
Taking advantage of the chaos from his battle with the cultist, Finn finally found an opportunity to rescue Ella.
Hugo, being loyal, immediately unleashed his Sigil’s power to force the cultist back, creating an opening for them to escape.
Now, Finn and Ella were leading a group of freed slaves, including those pitiable girls deemed “defective,” through an emergency escape route guarded by their allies.
As for the noble clients who had previously “forgotten” to leave and were now trying to slip away—they were all “protected” by cold-faced members of the “Dawn’s Children.” These people were crucial “witnesses” and “bargaining chips,” who had to wait for Allen to deal with personally.
Allen’s plan was proceeding far more smoothly than expected; the main objectives had largely been achieved.
Now, the only and greatest enemy left was the cultist before them.
Although he was merely a “Pseudo-John,” his strength was frighteningly formidable, able to fight Hugo, a true Sigil-bearer, on even ground.
He’d even taken a devastating knight kick from Hugo, one charged with Sun Emblem energy, which left a gaping hole in his chest and forced him to cough up black blood—yet he still wasn’t dead!
“How are you so tough?!” Hugo was a bit surprised.
“Because the ritual… is nearly complete, you fool!” The cultist let out a hoarse, manic laugh, looking over the carnage around him with satisfaction. “I should thank you… thank you all for this night’s slaughter! You’ve greatly pleased my master! Hahahahaha!”
“You really are a bunch of complete lunatics!” Hugo cursed.
“Lunatics? The real madness is this world!” The cultist’s voice twisted with frenzied fervor. “We were changed into these monsters only because we were unlucky enough to glimpse a piece of this world’s truth! Do you nobles—born with your Sigils—ever realize… that even you are just a part of this insane world?!”
“Oh?” Hugo tilted his head. “My bro told me that listening to cultists like you is bad for your sanity. Looks like it’s true. But even if you’re right, what good does knowing the world’s truth do for me?”
Hugo’s brutally honest answer left the cultist momentarily speechless.
It did seem to make sense. If knowledge was a curse, wouldn’t it be better to be a happy ignoramus?
“But… do you really want to muddle through life, then die without understanding anything?!” the cultist tried to retort.
Hugo just shrugged indifferently. “Plenty of people drop dead from drinking too much. How can anyone avoid accidents in life? I’m not that obsessed with living—so as long as I’m happy, that’s good enough! One day at a time, right?”
The cultist was actually getting rattled. “That’s because you’re a noble! That’s why you can be happy! You Bernard brat! You don’t know what hell people like us… have been through!”
“Huh?” Hugo blinked. “How do you know who I am?”
The cultist almost laughed in exasperation. “I bet you’re wearing another jester mask under that mask! In the whole capital, only your Bernard family has the Sun Emblem! And you’re the earl’s only son! Who else could you be?!”
“Really?” Hugo thoughtfully tapped his mask. “But you seem more like the jester here. If your life was so full of pain, you should know how much suffering hurts, right? But you went and doubled your own pain onto more innocent people! Doesn’t that just make you a pure coward?”
“If you think it’s the nobles oppressing you, go get revenge on the nobles who did it! Bullying those even weaker and more miserable than you—what does that prove? What a pathetic waste! Even with power, you’re still as incompetent and base as ever!”
“You… you…!”
The cultist really was about to go insane, his rage causing a momentary lapse in his movements.
At that instant!
“Sun Pulse!”
Hugo seized the opportunity, clapping his hands together as a searing golden beam erupted, striking the cultist’s lower body dead-on.
“Pshhhhh—!”
The cultist’s lower half, under the pure power of light, melted and vaporized like snow under the sun!
He didn’t even have time to scream—just his upper body crashed to the ground, the wound charred black, even his blood completely evaporated.
“Villains always talk themselves to death!” Hugo taunted triumphantly, having bought enough time for his skill to recharge with his chatter. “My bro said it: you cultists love to complain and make excuses—turns out he was right! But your excuses don’t deserve any sympathy, so just hurry up and die!”
“……”
The half-bodied cultist was so furious he was about to explode!
His overwhelming rage, despair, and hatred for Hugo’s damned mouth consumed him.
At that moment, Allen arrived with his core fighters.
Seeing the mutilated but still writhing cultist, Judge Victor’s brow furrowed as he waved decisively: “Seize this heretic!”
The Heretic Inquisition Squad spread out instantly, forming up and advancing.
Anna darted forward, swift as a breeze, and appeared before the cultist’s remains. Her tiny fist, packed with terrifying strength, crashed into his chest.
“Heresy must die!!!”
The cuteness vanished from Anna’s expression, her voice cold and murderous, fully displaying her prowess as the Inquisition’s ace.
“Guwaaa—!”
The cultist’s ruined body spasmed violently, letting out a beastly shriek. “I’ll kill you, you little—!”
Seeing the heretic still struggling, Anna threw another punch with all her might.
“Say your prayers!”
“Eyaa—!”
The cultist was knocked flying, spitting out a mouthful of black blood.
Seeing this, Allen’s Heretical Soul blazed up.
“Namo san! What ruthless karate! If the good citizens of Lucien saw this, they’d surely wet themselves!”
But even on the brink of death, the cultist pointed at them and sneered:
“You and I, in the end, are all raccoons of the same hill!”
He hadn’t expected even the Inquisition to show up.
Ever since the Crimson Spiral Cult failed in assassinating Allen de Laval, it seemed cursed by misfortune, suffering loss after loss.
Has our lord abandoned us?
No! The ritual is nearly complete! The risks are enormous, but the Ascension Ritual must be forced through!
His Pseudo-Mark was already being crushed by the Combat Nun’s divine field. If he didn’t make a move now, he’d be dead in moments!
“Lord! Grant me power! I offer you everything! My soul! My flesh!” he screamed with his last strength.
Suddenly, something changed.
An indescribable, utterly vile and filthy power pierced the void, descending from the endless, dark sky—ignoring tons of earth and stone to converge madly on the cultist’s ruined body.
Everyone present was stunned by this abrupt, terrifying force, as if the very air had frozen.
The half-bodied cultist was now at the center of a violently spinning vortex of energy.
The air around him twisted and buzzed with a nauseating, oily shimmer, warped by this blasphemous power.
The “Blessing” he prayed for now flooded his body like a bursting dam—far beyond what any mortal soul or flesh could withstand!
At first, his form began to expand and contract wildly and erratically, bones crunching and reshaping with a sickening, bestial sound beneath his skin.
His flesh turned at times transparent, revealing his writhing guts and sprouting mutations; at others, it thickened into unnatural, slime-slick scales or hard chitinous plates.
His head slumped and melted like wax, features mangled and rearranged by invisible hands.
Eyes—dozens, hundreds—bloodshot and burning with malice—burst open all over his body: chest, arms, even the jagged stump where his waist had been.
Their sizes varied, pupils spinning madly, scanning every living being present.
His mouth split to an inhuman width, tearing to the ears; what emerged wasn’t a tongue, but tendrils coated with slimy suckers or bone spikes, writhing ceaselessly.
His arms swelled and mutated, becoming massive, armored claws like battering rams.
Where his lower body had been, a pale, writhing mass of flesh grew, spawning countless thick, slimy tentacles that thrashed the ground, leaving trails of filth.
All trace of humanity was gone. In its place was a monstrous aggregate, driven only by insatiable hunger and primal rage, a mass of organs and twisted limbs—an abomination against life itself!
“ROARRRRRRR!!!!!!”
The monster’s endless roar, a blend of pure pain and fury, made dust rain down from the ceiling.
“Not good! His body and soul couldn’t endure the blessing of the evil god—he’s become a monster!”
Allen instantly sized up the situation and barked, “Werner! Go tell everyone at the escape route to fall back and set up a defensive line! This thing is way beyond you—ordinary Sigil-bearers won’t stand a chance!”
“Understood!” Werner replied without hesitation.
His men, having witnessed this nightmare, knew it was beyond human power and sprinted for the escape tunnel without delay.
“Comrade Victor! How’s your combat ability?” Allen spoke to the judge with lightning speed.
“Against something like that? Not good.” Victor looked pale but stayed calm.
“Remember the way back?”
“Yes!”
“Go—retrace your steps and guide the surface team and any incoming Inquisition support here! We’ll hold this thing underground at all costs—it must not reach the surface! I’ll take command of the squad—go!”
“Understood!”
Victor, knowing the gravity of his task, turned and dashed away at top speed.
Allen looked over his returning squad and Anna. Their faces were tense, but more than that, filled with the resolve and fearlessness that came from faith.
“Everyone!” Allen’s voice was deep and steady. “Are you ready to die to protect humanity?”
“Always ready! In the name of the Lord, destroy all enemies of mankind!” the squad answered in unison, tightening their grips on their weapons.
“Follow me!”
Allen drew a deep breath, clenched his sword, and charged first at the horrific mass of flesh.
Meanwhile, Hugo, shocked by the monstrous transformation, snapped back to his senses.
As a chivalrous knight… no, as a Masked Rider! His heart of justice (and chuunibyo soul) quickly overcame his fear of the unknown beast!
“Allen! What do I do?!” He recognized the masked Allen and shouted, the Sun Emblem’s power blazing within him.
“Its physical defense and regeneration are insane! Enchant your weapon with Sun Emblem energy—deal continuous burning damage! Suppress its healing! Aim for its core… if it has one!” Allen barked his orders.
“Got it! Watch this—Sunlight Shatter!”
Hugo yelled his self-made move, pouring blazing solar energy into a random sword he’d picked up and boldly charged in.
A truly perilous and desperate battle had begun!
“Marianne…” Allen, rushing toward the monster, felt a flicker of worry. “Please… let nothing happen to you.”
At that moment, deep inside the Thieves’ Guild headquarters, in a luxurious office.
The guild leader—who’d long sensed trouble and snuck back—was frantically opening his private vault hidden behind a bookshelf.
He stuffed gold, gems, land deeds, and bonds into a thick leather sack, his whole body shaking uncontrollably with terror and excitement, his efficiency plummeting.
As he wiped his cold sweat with trembling hands, he muttered nervously to himself, trying to drown out his panic:
“Damn! Damn! Damn it all! I knew it! I knew getting mixed up with those cultist bastards would end badly! That damned Minister of Finance! If you want to worship your evil god, fine, but why drag us down with you… It’s over! We’re finished!”
“Damn it! Damn it! I always knew this line of work would end badly, but… but… I don’t want to die! Good thing… good thing I had a backup plan… If I can just escape to the Empire’s freedom… With this money, I can start over…”
“No, you have no chance.”
A cold and melodious voice, as quiet as a serpent, sounded behind him.
The next instant, a sharp dagger pressed against his throat, its icy touch freezing him in place, his blood turning to ice.
—It was Marianne, who’d silently tailed him all along.
Reflected in the guild leader’s terrified eyes, Marianne’s lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile.
“Come now, let’s have a nice chat… Esteemed Minister of Finance, just how did you come to worship an evil god?”