In a corner of the royal capital, the flickering light of torches illuminated the surroundings as the sounds of slaughter gradually ceased.
Though nearby residents had been roused from their peaceful slumber by the commotion, after peering through their door cracks and recognizing the perpetrators—soldiers clad in the kingdom's standard armor, bearing flags emblazoned with the royal crest—they quietly withdrew their heads and retreated.
None of my business. I know nothing.
NO ZUO NO DIE—don't ask for trouble, and you won't get hurt!
Everyone understood this principle.
Jem Woz sat expressionlessly on a chair, legs crossed, watching as a certain someone—arms tightly bound behind his back—was pinned to the ground by several soldiers. "Sir Karl," he said coolly, "do you have any last words?"
Hearing the icy tone in Jem's voice, the man immediately struggled and cried out, "Your Highness, I'm innocent!!"
Though Jem had already sentenced him to death, he didn't mind hearing the man's final plea. "How innocent? Let's hear it!"
Seeing a glimmer of hope, Karl's tear-and-snot-streaked face lit up with desperate relief as he hurriedly explained, "They just invited me as a guest! I had no idea they were secretly trafficking military supplies!"
Jem nodded indifferently, not bothering to press further. Instead, he casually pointed behind Karl. "Understood. Wait a moment—the results will be clear soon. They've already brought the evidence."
Karl froze, then twisted his head to look.
In the blazing inferno of the mansion, a squad of soldiers emerged. The leading officer carried several severed heads in one hand and a ledger in the other.
At the sight of the still-dripping heads—their faces all too familiar—and the ledger in the officer's grip, Sir Karl's eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.
Jem spared a dispassionate glance at the unconscious Karl before turning his attention to the officer. "Is it done?"
The officer tossed the heads beside Karl, then knelt on one knee, presenting the ledger to Jem. "Your Highness, mission accomplished. All criminals present have been executed. The ledger is intact."
Taking the ledger, Jem gave a solemn nod of approval. "Good. Report to the barracks later for your reward."
Suppressing his elation, the officer rose respectfully. "Thank you, Your Highness!"
"Go rest."
Dismissing the officer with a wave, Jem flipped open the ledger, carefully scanning its meticulously recorded entries.
The quantities, prices, destinations, and profit distributions were all laid out in perfect detail—so much so that Jem's face twitched involuntarily.
He hadn't expected that while purging the cultists, before even encountering any, he'd instead stumble upon the largest military smuggling operation in decades. An unexpected windfall, indeed.
Handing the ledger to a trusted subordinate, Jem slowly stood up. He nudged the still-bleeding heads with his foot, recognizing the faces—nobles and wealthy merchants, every one of them.
Then, with a swift spinning kick, he sent the unconscious Sir Karl flying, sending him tumbling through the air several times before—
CRACK!
With the sound of his bones completely shattering, Karl died instantly, blood slowly seeping from his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears before his lifeless body collapsed to the ground.
Taking a slight breath and exhaling, Jem Woz smiled and said to the guards beside him, "Cut off his head and pile it with the others. Let's see how many heads we can collect today!"
He felt today's surprises would be far from few—perhaps even unexpectedly abundant.
Pointing to the location marked as Site 2, he mounted his warhorse and declared, "Let's move. Next stop..."
As they searched one location after another, flames and the clamor of battle erupted throughout the city.
Countless sleeping citizens were startled awake, casting uneasy glances out their windows.
No one knew what was happening, but the sight of soldiers bearing the royal banner reassured them this wasn't an enemy invasion, easing their fears considerably.
Casually observing the wary eyes peering from nearby houses, Jem Woz flicked the blood off his Knight's sword and gestured helplessly at the pile of heads filling several wagons behind him. "Brother Shar, what kind of locations did you mark for me? I was looking for the Twisted Spirit Society! Smuggling warehouses, child-trafficking dungeons, underground assassin dens, hideouts for wanted criminals... What kind of nonsense is this?!"
Shar coughed awkwardly in response. "Just a minor oversight. It proves that any group trying to hide tends to choose similar spots. Though we missed our main target, we still bagged plenty of other prizes. Not bad, I'd say!"
Even he hadn't expected the capital to harbor so many monsters—let alone that sheer luck would lead him to pinpoint seven or eight of their lairs. It seemed years of rot had festered unchecked in this city.
Clearing them out by accident was an unexpected boon.
Surveying the "bountiful" results behind him, Jem Woz sighed. "I wonder how the Church is faring on their end?"
This unplanned purge of the capital's underworld left him conflicted.
Though it wasn't a loss, it still felt off-target.
BANG!
Kicking open the basement door, Saffie eyed the masked figures tensely watching them.
After a quick glance at the patterns and symbols embroidered on their black robes, recognition dawned. "The Whispering Cult? That makes five now. Does Maddon Duchy really hide this many cults?!"
Saffie began suspecting Jem Woz had set her up.
Searching just ten locations had uncovered five different cults and two shady underground factions—what kind of absurd odds were these?
'Is the capital's terrain so prime that every group flocks here for a party?!'
Utterly baffled, Saffie couldn't fathom it.
Groups that usually required painstaking investigation were now turning up like wholesale goods—one after another!
Just as the Heretic Hunting Division knew cult symbols by heart, the cults too were deeply familiar with theirs.
The leader of the opposing group, merely by observing the positioning and weapons of the clergy, saw through the identities of Saffi and the others. His eyes narrowed as he spoke in a venomous tone, "Hmph! The Heretic Hunting Division? I never expected your intelligence to be so sharp. We haven't even made our move yet, and you've already come knocking. Seems you've planted a traitor among us—and one of considerable rank at that..."
With that, before Saffi and his companions could react, he swiftly drew a dagger from his waist and plunged it into the chest of another masked figure beside him, giving the man no chance to respond.
"Kale, I always suspected you were a traitor, leaking information behind our backs. But I didn't expect you to act so quickly—before we even finalized our plans. You truly caught me off guard."
After a moment of excruciating pain, the man named Kale stared wide-eyed at the twisted face inches from his own, his flushed face filled with disbelief. Clearly, he hadn't processed what had just happened.
His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, blood bubbling from his mouth as he struggled to speak: "Y-you... he..."
After finishing off his victim, the leader turned to Saffi and the others, who stood frozen in shock, and sneered, "How does it feel? Failing to save your own man—must be infuriating, huh?"
Glancing at the lifeless body on the ground, Saffi replied earnestly, "...Actually, I think you've misunderstood. Our church did plan to plant a spy in the Whisper Sect, but due to manpower shortages, we reassigned him elsewhere."
Unexpectedly, the man merely scoffed in response.
With a disdainful glance at Saffi, he flicked the blood off his dagger and mocked scornfully, "Bullshit! Don't think I don't see through your attempt to distract me!"
No sooner had he spoken than he drove the dagger into another subordinate.
Same method—executed flawlessly.
Under his masterful betrayal, the man fell victim instantly. This time, however, he held back slightly, avoiding vital organs but leaving the man severely wounded. The blade's enchanted poison paralyzed the victim entirely.
Amidst the stunned silence of the onlookers, he turned back to Saffi and said, "Don't play dumb. You planted two spies among us. The first one's dead, but this one isn't. Surely, Bishop Saffi, you're not so heartless as to abandon a loyal servant?"
As he spoke, Saffi noticed some of his own subordinates shifting uneasily, clearly believing the stabbed men were indeed their allies and considering a rescue attempt.
To avoid appearing cold-blooded in their eyes, Saffi sighed and explained again, "...I've already told you—we didn't plant anyone in your ranks. Why must you persist?"
Enraged, the man snapped, "Still lying? Fine. If you're willing to sacrifice your own, then you leave us no choice!"
After speaking, he viciously kicked the person lying on the ground and shouted, "You worthless trash have already been abandoned! Tell me your origins. I want to see how that hypocritical old bastard explains this!"
Hearing these words, a slight twitch crossed Saffi's face, though his expression remained unchanged as he thought, 'You're dead. I will kill you.'
After being kicked, the man stared at the blood seeping from his wounds and glared at his assailant with a look of bitter fury. "You idiot! I'm from the Yar Principality's royal family! I was supposed to secretly support your growth to cause trouble for the Maddon Duchy! And you mistook me for someone from the Church?! You goddamn—"
Saffi, standing nearby, shrugged helplessly as he watched the stunned expression on the other man's face. "I told you, but you wouldn't believe me."
Then, with a gesture to his companions, he signaled for them to act.
And so, the battle began anew!
This time, Saffi himself hefted his warhammer and charged straight for the enemy leader—he had already made up his mind.
He would personally smash the man's skull in!
Not long after, when everything was over and Saffi and his group had completely left, a figure appeared in the basement.
Glancing at the corpses strewn across the floor, he casually reached out a hand.
All the lingering souls in the vicinity condensed into a single, translucent crystal that materialized in his palm.
Without hesitation, he popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Olthagia remarked, "Though he had a lot of screen time and kept yapping nonsense, the flavor isn't bad."
All in all, since he hadn't personally killed these people, the blame couldn't be pinned on him—meaning the world's suppression wouldn't intensify.
This buffet was quite satisfying.
While others did the killing up front, Olthagia reaped the rewards from behind. A rather efficient use of resources.