The port north of Vitra City.
This port had already fallen a week ago, and the residents within had long beco cultists.
Many soldiers had turned into blades for the Evil God, and those who resisted beca sacrifices and food.
Perhaps because the cultists were in too much of a hurry, they didn’t commit much slaughter in this port, and the sacrifices were not chosen from here either.
Only a few cultists were left here to guard, while most were those who had fallen.
In the prison of the port.
The forr prisoners were no longer there, replaced by living people who resisted being imprisoned here.
Although the corrupting power of the Evil God was formidable, it didn’t influence everyone imdiately.
Those affected were more often those with stirred emotions at the ti, people whose hearts were already tainted with darkness, or the weak-willed.
Those imprisoned here did not belong to those categories.
Shalika was also among them, she was one of the imprisoned.
Cramped in one of the cells, her body was covered in rags, dirt everywhere, and even so dried bloodstains.
She held her knees, curled up in a corner of the cell, eyes filled with despair and void.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The piercing sound of iron doors rang out.
The mont this sound occurred, all the civilians imprisoned in the cell involuntarily shuddered.
Many civilians started retreating to the back corners and walls of the cell.
Shalika also tightened her grip around her legs, curling into a ball, but right beside her, two adult males and an elderly man surrounded her, acting as her shield.
In the corridor of the cells.
A tailor dressed in blood-red robes, glaring with evil eyes, walked gently.
Deliberately walking slowly, letting the sound of footsteps echo through the cells.
Suddenly turned his head to look at the adjacent cell.
"Ah!"
In the cell he looked at, those civilians’ eyes widened with terror, so even scread out loud.
Keeps retreating backward.
Seeing this scene, the rigid face of the Blood Race tailor couldn’t help but form a slight smile.
"The taste of fear, ah~"
He said with delight, suddenly turning to look at another cell and beckoning with a hand.
A woman in plain clothes, bound by the scarlet power, was forcibly dragged out.
"No, no! Don’t!" The woman scread sharply, the piercing sound resonating throughout the cell.
"Hahahaha, scream, scream in fear!" The tailor laughed joyfully, not loosening his grip in the slightest.
Forcefully dragging the woman and pressing her against the cell door.
"Spare , no, spare !" The woman struggled, her face full of terror.
The Blood Race tailor pressed his head against the cold tal bars, lightly inhaling the scent of fear emanating from the woman and the bloody sll on her body.
"Delicious, I want to bite you!" He said, even sticking out his tongue to lick once.
At this mont, the fear exploded within the woman’s heart, and she couldn’t help but scream once more in terror, the shrill sound spreading around.
Then she fainted.
"Boring." The tailor pouted with regret.
Dragged her out of the cell, tossing her into the corridor, not paying her any more attention.
Took a few more steps inside, suddenly raising his hand again, Shalika suddenly felt her body being restrained, dragged by so force.
The chosen one felt behind them, and the people in the cell imdiately dispersed, leaving a path.
However, in front of the girl, two middle-aged n and an old man guarded her tightly.
As if delaying, not letting her be dragged towards the door.
"Hmm?" The tailor outside the door widened his eyes, a face of fury.
"Sir, spare her, she’s just a child, choose , take out." One of the n said loudly, even starting to beg.
"Shut up! Food." The tailor roared, sowhat angry, waving a hand, sending the begging man flying into the wall, knocking him unconscious.
Shalika felt utterly powerless against this evil force, being dragged.
"No, miss!" The old man shouted, but clearly, his strength was not enough.
Shalika was forcibly dragged to the prison door, looking at the figure in front of her, his face pale as death, his face so thin it seed his skin would stick to his bones.
This Blood Race tailor looked at her, laughing sharply: "You’re a noble? And loyal servants wanting to protect you, you must be a perfect sacrifice."
Facing the grotesque and terrifying Blood Race tailor in front of her, Shalika tightly closed her eyes.
She regretted so much, regretting why she risked her life to deliver supplies here.
Due to the war at Gray Rock Fortress, if transporting various military supplies there, prices and expenses were very high, with a great chance of earning a profit.
Under such circumstances, the Pointer Trading Company, owning transportation ships along the coast, naturally wouldn’t miss the opportunity.
As the president of the Comrce Association, Shalika naturally needed to set an example and personally ensure the success of this deal.
But who could have expected, just stopping to rest at a small port, encountering such an event, a large number of Evil God forces attacking the port?
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