Chapter 424 – Zola

So far, the female ranger’s behavior seemed utterly bizarre to Punk and Kane. Unlike typical cult fanatics who exhibited hysterical madness and chaos, this ranger remained calm and rational from start to finish, showing no trace of anger despite their relentless mockery.

While Punk knew that religious believers weren’t necessarily prone to blind rage—it wasn’t unusual for powerful sects to have one or two strong individuals who balanced faith with reason—the contrast between this demon-worshipping cultist and the equally rational Minotaur Shaman from the same Church was staggering. Moreover, the terrifying chaotic energies of the Abyss, which they absorbed as their power source, typically caused severe soul corruption. Those influenced by such energies should, like ordinary followers, easily succumb to raging fury and incessant madness.

Yet this female ranger showed no signs of anger whatsoever. She bore no resemblance to a fanatical cultist. Punk could even confirm that she wasn’t descending into frenzy but was instead thinking rationally—the glint of wisdom in her pupils didn’t lie.

“Wait… Abyssal energy?”

As time passed, Punk’s perception deepened, and he finally pinpointed what set this female ranger apart from the cult’s fanatics:

“Where is the Abyssal energy? There’s no trace of its usage on her, no hideous statue hanging from her waist, no chaotic blood patterns on her body or face. Could it be… this ranger worships Devils without touching Abyssal power? How is that possible? Is she truly a high-ranking member of the Nightmare Cult?”

After some discreet observation, Punk noticed several stark differences between her and other followers. For instance, while other cultists carefully carried ugly demon statues on their belts, the female ranger did not! Others uncontrollably leaked Abyssal energy when enraged, yet not only was she free of such energy, one of her Magic Equipment items seemed to subtly repel it. Such behavior would be normal for ordinary professionals, but for a high-ranking member of a demonic Cult, it was profoundly puzzling.

“How intriguing. It seems there’s much more to this Nightmare Cult than meets the eye.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Punk quickly arrived at a rather bold hypothesis.

In contrast to Punk’s calm observation, Kane continued hurling insults nearby, almost as if he feared the female ranger might flee. To avoid startling her, he even remained rooted in place. Perhaps the Nightmare Cult held significant importance for Kane, as when it came to matters related to them, this golden knight proved far more impatient than Punk.”Hoo hoo ha ha ha! If the Kulong you’re talking about is that fool Goat-headed Tribesman who’s good at driving berserk ancestral spirits and loves summoning hordes of disgusting insects, then yes! This lord is the great hero who killed that Kulong! This lord chopped that trash into pieces, and then this lord destroyed that ridiculous Goat-headed Tribe too! What about it? If you’re unhappy, come kill this lord! This lord is right here waiting! Of course, there’s one small condition—if you lose… heh heh heh!”

Though every muscle in Kane’s body was tensed with vigilance, his feigned vulgarity was remarkably convincing. Moreover, the knight’s exaggerated gesticulations while speaking were exceptionally energetic, making him look like a host delivering a speech at some martial arts tournament. Considering Kane had indeed served as a Kingdom Protector for centuries, it wasn’t surprising he’d honed his oratory skills quite well.

Under Kane’s relentless stream of “trash” and “garbage” insults, even an ordinary person would inevitably grow furious. These Nightmare Cult followers, whose brains had been fried by Abyssal energy, were practically bursting with rage, nearly all glaring at Kane with bloodshot eyes while vulgar curses continuously filled the air.

Unfortunately, their voices couldn’t match Kane’s Battle Aura-amplified shouts, making their retorts seem weak and pathetic.

“Damn it! Lady Zola, it’s bad enough that this despicable mage and damned knight insult the deceased Elder Kulong, but they even dare to blaspheme our sacred, supreme Demon God! How can we tolerate this any longer? Let’s attack now! With the Demon God’s protection, we fear nothing even if our opponents are two Master-Level experts!”

Finally, the Formal-Level deputy beside the female ranger couldn’t endure the standoff any longer. He was practically using a commanding tone while advising his superior, his confident demeanor suggesting they could easily tear their opponents to shreds by swarming them.

Behind him, the enraged cult members finally cast aside their mysteriously silent masks and began shouting loudly. With just a little provocation, these seemingly disciplined mob immediately revealed their true nature:

“That’s right! We’ll make those who dare blaspheme the Demon God taste suffering!”

“Sacrifice them as offerings! This Desert belongs to us!”

“We possess unstoppable power! Lady Zola, do you want to keep the great Demon God waiting?”

The chaotic shouts grew increasingly louder as massive amounts of Abyssal energy spilled from the Nightmare Cult ranks. The yellow sand on the ground gradually became stained crimson, and the solidified killing intent even formed vaguely visible evil spirits baring their fangs at Punk and Kane.

“Looks like it’s time to make our move.”

Seeing the Nightmare Cult members could no longer restrain their fury and bloodlust, icy words slowly emerged from Punk’s mouth. The ripples of terrifying spells soon began spreading through Hazelwood Town’s skies once more. Whether it was Kane, Punk, or the coincidentally encountered Zola, they had all waited long enough—this tedious standoff was finally time to conclude.Without even a glance at the followers behind her, the female ranger named Zola was now gazing meaningfully at Punk and Kane. In her enchanting pupils, a glint of murderous intent suddenly flashed:

“Yes, it seems it’s time to act”!

Her soft words carried complex emotional undertones. Simultaneously, Zola’s nimble fingers instantly drew the Whip-blade from her waist. With the swishing sound of splitting air, the cold, gleaming blade of the Whip-blade reflected a dull crimson hue under the brilliant sunlight.

“Shhhk”!

The sound of the sharp blade slicing through blood vessels and bones remained startlingly clear even across the vast battlefield. Soaring into the air alongside the crimson blood… was the severed head of Zola’s adjutant.

(End of Chapter)