The interrogation—or perhaps it was torture—didn’t take too long to end.
The cultist foamed at the mouth and rolled their eyes back.
It wasn’t that they were enraged; rather, they had collapsed, unconscious.
In the process, Bersia managed to extract a significant amount of information.
Most notably, the exact number of cultists gathered here, the types of tasks they were engaged in, and a rough outline of the geography of this place.
“An experiment with aberrations, huh.”
“…I can’t even muster a laugh.”
Their goal was to create a new kind of aberration.
No, to be precise—
“An artificial witch? How could they even conceive such a thing?!”
Usher felt a wave of revulsion.
Even for cultists, this was going too far.
To them, witches were supposed to be the agents designated by their god.
Yet here they were, attempting to manufacture and idolize one themselves.
There was no justification for such an act.
This place needed to be eradicated without a trace.
Of course, since there were still missing persons here, such action would have to wait until after they were rescued.
Suppressing his anger, Usher spoke to Saturn.
“Sir, let’s begin right away.”
“Yes, I’ll be on my way.”
Saturn stood up.
The rough geography had already been mapped out.
This area corresponded to the mid-level of the underground structure. Above it was a hall fortified with aberrations for defense and living quarters for the cultists.
The lower levels were said to contain laboratories and residences for key personnel.
Thus, Saturn’s task was to infiltrate the lower levels, draw their forces to him, and clear out the upper floors.
As Saturn began to move, a voice called out.
“Hey…!”
“Yes, Saintess.”
Rubena stopped him.
After hesitating and swallowing her words, she approached him and whispered.
“If… if it looks dangerous, just run away, okay? And make sure to take me with you on your way out…!”
She seemed deeply anxious.
However, it wasn’t the hysterical reaction she might have had before.
Perhaps due to the bond she had formed while staying behind Saturn all this time, her tone conveyed genuine concern.
“Your health is the most important, got it? If you get hurt, I swear I’ll just…!”
“There’s no need to worry. I will not lose to cultists.”
“You arrogant…!”
Grinding her teeth in frustration, she seemed on the verge of cursing but held back.
Rubena’s eyes narrowed sharply.
Saturn responded calmly.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“That’s not what this is about!!!”
Rubena spun around and grabbed Usher’s coat, glaring at Saturn as if she could kill him.
Usher, caught in the middle, smiled awkwardly while Saturn bowed his head.
“Well then, I’ll be off.”
Just as Saturn turned to leave, Rubena spoke again.
“…Hey, are you sure you’ll be okay on your own? Shouldn’t you have an escort with you?”
“So you are worried after all.”
“That’s not it! It’s just that if something happens to you, there’s no one left to protect me…!”
“Your concern is truly unnecessary.”
Usher smiled, slightly troubled.
After all, saintesses weren’t ones to fight cultists or oversee their escort knights’ training.
Perhaps, because of their inherent specialness, they couldn’t fully grasp what they were overlooking.
The significance of those assigned as the escort knights to a saintess, for example.
“Sir Heisenberg is a Rank 1 Knight.”
“So what?!”
“Do you know what’s required for that rank?”
Rubena clamped her mouth shut.
Her expression made it clear she didn’t understand.
Usher chuckled and explained.
“They must defeat a hundred knights who wield mana single-handedly, without sustaining any injuries.”
“…What?”
“That’s the requirement for a Rank 1 Knight.”
And that’s just the bare minimum.
Moreover, Saturn was the ultimate shield—unparalleled in defense, even by the standards of their commander.
That was the truth of the matter.
“Why don’t we focus on our own tasks?”
No matter who awaited below—even if a witch herself appeared—there was no scenario where Saturn Heisenberg would die.
Even if he couldn’t achieve victory, he was the kind of person who could endure until reinforcements arrived.
After stepping through the door, the first thing Saturn saw was a long corridor.
Unlike the crude iron bars of the hastily dug-out tunnels above, this area was lined with rectangular stone bricks along its walls and ceiling, creating a clean and orderly path.
Usher might have been enraged by such audacity, but Saturn wasn’t.
He wasn’t meticulous enough to waste emotions on trivial things.
He simply stomped forward.
At the end of the corridor, beyond the door, he sensed the presence of people.
It seemed they noticed him as well, as a voice questioned:
“You’re quite late. Did someone escape this ti—”
Bang!
Saturn’s hand burst through the door and grabbed the cultist’s head with unerring precision.
And then crack, it crushed.
The sound echoed throughout what must have been a fairly large space.
Screams followed.
“An intruder!!!”
Saturn kicked the door open.
The iron gate crumpled like paper and flew apart.
Beyond it was an open area where cultists gripped their weapons, and two aberrations clung to the ceiling.
There were about twenty cultists in total.
From the numerous branching passageways, it appeared this was the central area of the zone.
Saturn’s gaze fixed on the red, fleshy masses stuck to the ceiling.
“A holy knight! Kill him!!!”
“Uwaaahhh!!!”
The cultists unleashed their grotesque mockery of holy power.
Saturn, undeterred, walked forward.
With a pace neither hurried nor slow, he extended his fist toward the air.
Boom!
The space distorted, and the cultists in his path were annihilated without leaving a trace.
Another swing of his fist obliterated the cultists on the opposite side.
A mere twenty grunts were no challenge.
The two aberrations advanced next.
“Hm.”
Saturn grabbed the mouth of one as it lunged at him and slammed it into the ground.
Squish!
The creature burst apart, losing its form entirely.
The annihilation took mere moments.
Without even a flicker of emotion, Saturn continued forward, descending the stairs to the lower levels.
That’s when the traps began to activate.
Whirr!
Metal spikes coated in poison and curses shot toward Saturn.
Arrows and molten lava filled the corridor, seeking to harm him.
But none of it mattered.
Nothing could pierce Saturn’s skin.
Clang!
It was only natural.
His defensive capability was unmatched across the entire cult.
He reached the depths.
It was here that Saturn realized he would need to exert himself fully.
“There are many.”
Hundreds of cultists awaited him, five of whom emanated particularly ominous auras.
There were also thirty aberrations, each an abominable creation whose very existence likely cost countless human lives.
These were nothing like the ones above.
There was a deeper malice, a greater power emanating from them.
It was evident that this would be more grueling than any task Saturn had faced, even compared to his mission to hunt twenty aberrations in his past.
Yet Saturn did not flinch.
Instead, he exhaled deeply and flexed his muscles.
The cultists charged.
Saturn swung his fist, now encased in crystallized holy power, like a gauntlet.
Crunch!
One of the charging aberrations was crushed into itself.
Fragments of crystallized holy power scattered through the air.
Among the cultists, someone finally recognized Saturn and screamed in terror.
“H-Hei-Heisenberg! He’s here! Form the battle line!!!”
Daaang—!
A bell tolled.
The sound of the bell reverberated through the entire underground structure, becoming a massive roar.
Saturn stood still for a moment, lost in thought.
‘The Saintess would hate this.’
For someone whose own voice could shake the ceilings, she had little tolerance for loud noises from others.
When they went out to the marketplace for clothes, she would end up cursing out street vendors who shouted too loudly to attract customers.
If this place were above ground and caused this much noise, she’d likely throw a fit, demanding the whole area be leveled immediately.
Saturn absentmindedly rubbed his scalp.
Repeatedly stepping in to stop her antics had left him so stressed that things had turned out this way.
Thinking back to her teasing him for being bald and laughing gleefully only deepened his frustration.
As he was lost in these musings, the number of cultists surged, more than doubling in size.
Judging by the fact that the rear was now blocked, it seemed reinforcements had arrived from the upper levels as planned.
Among the cultists, one individual exuding particularly strong energy stepped forward with a smirk.
“Well, I never thought I’d catch such a big fish.”
Their face was hidden by a robe, but their voice betrayed them as a man. His hair, brown and glossy, flowed down to his waist.
“This doesn’t match the intel… I heard it was a lion’s mane, but all I see is a bald head. Had a change of heart?”
Saturn’s eyebrow twitched.
Before he realized it, he retorted.
“…It didn’t fall out. I shaved it myself.”
“Eh? What are you on about?”
“And the eyebrows? I shaved those off too. They get in the way during combat.”
The cultist tilted his head, clearly baffled.
Suppressing a surge of annoyance, Saturn stepped forward.
The cultist sneered and shouted.
“Doesn’t matter! Kill him! Bring me that bastard’s corpse!!!”
The cultist had every reason to feel confident.
There were fifty aberrations in this vast chamber alone.
According to past reports, Saturn Heisenberg had barely survived when hunting twenty aberrations.
Now, there were twice as many aberrations, and hundreds of cultists capable of casting curses.
To the cultist, this was an unbeatable fight.
But it was a fatal misjudgment.
Boom!
His one and only mistake was not understanding the weight of the name Saturn Heisenberg.
Nor did he grasp the source of Saturn’s strength.
“…What?”
The cultist let out a dumbfounded sound.
Even as he watched it unfold before his eyes, he couldn’t believe it.
Every attack hurled at Saturn was imbued with curses, acidity, heat, and malice.
Yet Saturn remained unscathed.
More precisely, the “Holy Scales” that began to grow on his skin rendered all those efforts meaningless.
The scales glowed with radiant light, growing thicker and adding to Saturn’s stature.
Gradually, his form began to transform, evoking the image of something else entirely.
‘A dragon…?’
Dragons—the pinnacle of all species said to have existed thousands of years ago.
How could such a form emerge from a mere human?
To answer that, one would need to know the history of the Heisenberg family.
Long ago, at the northern edge of the continent, a noble explorer named Juan Heisenberg ventured into the icy caverns of the snow mountains.
There, he made a discovery: the blood and bones of a dragon believed to be extinct.
The remains carried a will of their own, long frozen in ice, awaiting the day they could return to the world.
Juan Heisenberg recognized this and entered into a pact with the lingering spirit within the remains.
“I bestow my blessing upon your bloodline; show us the world.”
Thus, the Heisenberg family inherited the Dragon Scales, a mystical armor that protected against all physical and magical harm.
Saturn was one such successor.
At the same time, he was a holy knight blessed with divine power.
In his generation, a new transformation occurred.
The Dragon Scales began to resonate with his divine power and evolve.
Initially, the scales were fragile, breaking easily and requiring gradual restoration through divine energy.
But with repeated use, the scales grew stronger, evolving into a unique form of their own.
This was the detail the cultist had missed.
The reason Saturn had become far stronger than the information they had on him.
The struggle against twenty aberrations was a trial from years ago.
Saturn was now a knight who only grew stronger as long as he lived.
The Church’s mightiest shield, unshaken by any malice.
Thus, he had earned the title White Scales.
Thud!
The Knight of White Scales, Saturn Heisenberg, stomped his foot.