On the silent, boundless plain.
A bizarre, half-red crescent moon hangs in mid-air, carelessly casting its ominous light.
Under the cover of night, a cavalry of over 2000 people swiftly advances towards Poland Village, with everyone riding horses.
The sound of hooves spreads far and wide.
With such noise, the assault on Poland Village might be detected even before they arrive.
Therefore, at a distance of 20 kiloters from Poland Village, the troops split into three groups, each led by an elite strike team.
Kane leads his soldiers at full speed directly towards Poland Village.
The troops on both sides would move slightly ahead of Kane’s, encircling Poland Village from two other directions.
This would trap the cultists before they could react.
As Kane’s team approaches within a few kiloters of Poland Village, the thunderous sound of hooves reaches the village.
At this mont, in a village head’s house, which is better than the others.
An elderly man with grizzled hair and beard suddenly opens his eyes.
His eyes are not murky like other elderly but sharp, flashing red.
He moves in a way that defies his age, flipping out of bed, then pressing his ear to the floor to listen carefully to the distant sounds.
The ear pressed to the floor morphs into a sharp, blood-red, thorned shape.
Listening to the sounds from three directions outside the village, he roughly estimates the size of the approaching forces.
He understands that the village is surrounded and they’ve likely been exposed.
His mind flashes to the image of Kane’s face, and anger wells up in him, his blood-red eyes glowing even fiercer, his missing teeth turning into a mouth full of serrated edges, grinding fiercely.
Shortly, his door is smashed open, and several figures rush in, the sa conspirators izike saw last night.
"Cult leader, we seem to have been discovered."
The butcher hurriedly reports to the village head.
"We’ve been discovered. There’s no chance to hide anymore. Kill them and complete the final ritual."
"But, isn’t this too hasty? The ritual is not ready, and we don’t have enough people, there’s a big chance of failure now."
A scholar, who looks very cultured, reminds the village head.
The village head now drastically transford, no longer looking human.
He’s nearly three ters tall, his head almost breaking through the roof, forcing him to stoop, and his skin blood-red as if sared entirely in blood.
His face and limbs bear thorn-like protrusions, scarred, four-sided pupils, and a thin whip-like tail extends behind him.
This is a Thorn Demon from the Abyss.
He stretches out his razor-sharp arm, grabbing the scholar by the throat and lifting him.
Scarred, four-sided pupils fix on the scholar’s eyes, thorns piercing the scholar’s face, blood trickling down the wounds.
"We’re surrounded. If the numbers aren’t enough, charge out now and kill all the soldiers coming at us."
"Yes, yes, I understand, Cult Leader." The scholar’s voice trembles, intimidated by the village head’s sudden fury.
The Thorn Demon then turns his gaze to the butcher and the others, frightening them into nodding rapidly and running off to prepare for battle.
anwhile, Kane’s team could see the silhouette of Poland Village from afar.
When Poland Village is completely in sight, Kane waves his hand, and his soldiers disperse to both sides, forming a semicircle to encircle Poland Village.
The troops on both sides are seen completing the encirclent.
All the soldiers form a circle, completely surrounding Poland Village.
anwhile, countless torches have already been lit in the village, and villagers are led by the village head and other key cult leaders, grasping their weapons.
The villagers’ wills are not strong; most are rely brainwashed by the cult, not seasoned in war or pain, their hands visibly trembling as they grip their tools.
These civilians, led by cultists, face off against the soldiers at the village’s edge.
The grizzled village head, leaning on a cane, steps slowly out from the path cleared by the crowd.
He looks up to the leading Saintess Finaris in front.
"What brings so many soldiers, Saintess, to our Poland Village at such a late hour?"
Yet, for his words, the Saintess doesn’t even glance at him, let alone answer, completely ignoring him, focusing instead on the surrounding civilians.
"You are all the children of God, no longer be bewitched by these evil demons. They trample our hos, occupy our lands, and slaughter our fellow n.
Now they want you to fight against your kin, while they stand back, watching us destroy each other. Return from your errant path, children of God. God will forgive your sins and absolve your past."
The Saintess’s words seem to hold a kind of magic, like a gentle breeze entering the ear, echoing in the mind, urging reflection and rembrance.
Those bearing guilt cannot resist pondering and repenting.
Those lost in misdirection cannot resist recalling and reflecting.
Listening to the Saintess’s words, the civilians’ minds begin to waver, and those already wavering are almost swayed to her side.
The key cultists and the village head naturally sense this issue.
Several figures suddenly rush from the crowd and attack the surrounding soldiers.
Many soldiers are startled by this action, their hands gripping bows and arrows ready to shoot.
Kane imdiately senses the situation and screams, "Do not act, leave it to us."
Upon hearing Kane’s shout, the soldiers feel reassured, no longer panicking.
The elite strike team charges forward, engaging the cultists in combat.
The magical powers of the elite team mbers all show Silver in Kane’s eyes, while these attacking cultists show only Copper.
Naturally, the cultists are instantly suppressed.
Beaten back step by step, the cultists feel the approach of death.
The cultists’ bodies begin to change away from human form, gradually transforming into demons.
The suppressed power starts to climb, allowing them to fight back against the elite team mbers.
User Comments
0 comments from readers