Chapter 135

Chapter 135

Faced with the sudden turn of events, they desperately tried to find a logical answer, but looking around, they didn’t know who to ask.

Watching the withered flower field, Ning Chan pulled his hood back up, concealing his unbridled grin beneath it.

Their terrified, cowering expressions were downright hilarious.

Ning "Devil" Chan enjoyed their frantic reactions while waiting for the main contingent to arrive.

The strange occurrence in the withered flower field had drawn most of the "bandits" over, making it much easier for the rest of the team to rescue the hostages.

As the "bandits" searched the field for any surviving blooms, the rustling in the woods sent a chill down their spines.

When they spotted one or two figures in their line of sight, they still had the courage to draw their swords, ready to fight the intruders. But when ten, a hundred—too many to count—appeared, their courage drained away like water from a ruptured pouch, vanishing without a trace.

"How did you—"

"What about the guards outside? Are they all dead? Not a single warning?"

"Stay back! We still have women from your country in our hands. Do you want them to die?"

Trembling, they gripped their weapons, trying to intimidate the soldiers with threats. One even furtively drew a signal horn, attempting to alert those still in the cave about the unexpected attack.

But before the horn could be raised, an arrow whistled through the air, punching clean through the man’s throat.

"Drop your weapons. Anyone who resists will end up like him," the messenger shouted under the General’s orders, bellowing the standard call for surrender.

Secretly, though, he hoped they would resist—cutting them down here would spare the rations and trouble of taking prisoners.

"Lies! We know exactly what happens to those taken by you. If we’re going to die anyway, I’ll drag a few of you down with me!" A "bandit" familiar with the treatment of criminals tightened his grip on his sword.

Their defiance made it clear—they’d rather die than be captured.

Seeing their stubborn refusal to accept reality, the General wasted no words and simply granted their wish.

Previously, these men had managed to slaughter patrol guards and villagers—first by ambushing the unprepared patrol, and second because most villagers had been infected with disease and evacuated, leaving only a few behind.

But now, they weren’t facing a small patrol unit. They were up against a well-equipped special operations team.

Their arrows were blocked by sturdy shields, while the soldiers’ arrows turned more than a dozen of them into living pincushions.

The survivors, too terrified to fight, desperately tried to flee—only to find their escape routes sealed off by the surrounding forces.

The lopsided mismatch in numbers and training ensured the battle didn’t last long.

Since they were heading to Babylonia, the rescued hostages couldn’t be taken along. They were left on the island temporarily while arrangements were made to contact their homeland and transport them back.

The severely wounded "bandits" who hadn’t died were interrogated repeatedly, wringing out every scrap of intel on Babylonia.

The interrogations left them begging for death, and when it finally came, they even felt relief.

In the dead of night, they cursed themselves—why had they ever crossed these devils? Why hadn’t they just stayed quietly in their own country? No—why were they even from Babylonia? If they had a ruler like Kane and a pontiff like Ning Chan, they wouldn’t have met such a wretched end.

They were soldiers too, yet the enemy ate well, dressed warmly, and fought for noble beliefs. Meanwhile, they were like cockroaches scurrying in the shadows, foolishly seizing what wasn’t theirs, only to be crushed in the shadows.

"Use your discretion. I’ll take my leave." As the blade of retribution swung toward Babylonia’s borders, Ning Chan observed their methodical cleansing of corrupt nobles and merchants, taking pains not to disrupt "innocent" civilians. Then, he fully handed off command to focus on other matters.

Having witnessed his hatred for the "cursed blooms," the General knew Babylonia was about to face heaven’s wrath.

Looking at these "cursed blooms" covering the mountains and slopes, it's hard to imagine how the people living on this land manage to survive.

What His Holiness intends to do, he wouldn't stop him, nor did he have the power to. The only thing he could offer was, "Understood. Leave this place to us, and please take care on your journey."

"Hm."

Ning Chan walked through the mountains and fields, obliterating entire flower fields with a sweep of wind.

Swearing, terrified shrieks, and panicked wails—countless voices filled with negativity reached Ning Chan's ears, yet none swayed his resolve.

If his Wood-element Superpower rank hadn't fallen from its peak, he wouldn’t have resorted to such a grindingly slow method. Back when he was at the ninth level, he could have siphoned all life force tied to the Wood element from a land as vast as Babylonia with just a thought.

To put it simply, the range of his psychic reach determined the extent of his connection with plants.

However, in the past, the land could barely sustain grass—who would dare to absorb its vitality? Refraining from leaching others’ Wood-element Superpower was already a mercy.

If it were any other plants, Ning Chan wouldn’t have the heart to use such a destructive method. But for *that* kind of plant—sorry, he couldn’t muster even a shred of pity.

The people of this nation were already ruined, and he wouldn’t allow more to sink into this rotten pit.

If possible, he would have gone door to door to ensure no one kept seeds for a potential resurgence. But given the urgency, Ning Chan had to act swiftly—destroying the flower fields and immediately moving to the next location.

Despite his speed, news still spread to other regions. People there trembled in fear, both of the assault team potentially striking their area and of the terrifying ability to annihilate entire sacred flower fields in an instant.

According to reports from above, there was only one person in the world with such extraordinary power—the recently enthroned His Holiness.

"Wasn’t he supposed to stay in the royal city? Why is he here?" King Anse of Babylonia pushed away the beauty in his arms upon hearing the news, fixing his subordinate with a bulging stare.

"Word is, he loathes the 'sacred flower.' The current situation confirms that our country’s 'sacred flowers' are being destroyed." The messenger found this terrifying enough, but what was worse was that, based on his movements, he would soon reach the royal city—and they had no trace of his presence.

Even the fact that he was in their country was merely a bold guess, with not a shred of proof.

Clearly, Anse realized this too from the report.

"So, before the flower fields were destroyed, no one noticed his presence? No abnormalities anywhere?" As far as he knew, His Holiness was otherworldly in looks—not someone who could easily go unnoticed.

Anyone who had seen him would never forget his appearance and aura.

"Correct. So far, no one has actually seen him." As if recounting a horror story, his voice shook.

Was it truly that no one had noticed? Not necessarily.

Though Ning Chan destroyed the flower fields from a distance, when people paid too much attention to these areas, his presence inevitably surfaced.

After all, Ning Chan only dampened his aura using the aura of plants—he wasn’t invisible or vanished. He never expected to remain undetected forever, but given the circumstances, even if discovered, he had more than enough power to handle it.

Like now, when a woman holding a child spotted him. But so what? That flower field would still be destroyed.

"Who—who are you?" The woman tightened her grip around the child, as if fearing Ning Chan would wrest the child from her.

Ning Chan observed them silently, debating whether to play along.

Normally, if it were ordinary women or children, he would try to reassure them gently, easing their fear.

But the venom practically dripping from these two was unmistakable—like bloodworms in a stagnant pond, ready to latch onto him and drain his blood.

"What do you think I am?" Aware of his poor acting skills, Ning Chan had no interest in playing along. He lifted his hood, his glacial gaze fixed. "Do I strike you as some benevolent passerby?"

Seeing his striking beauty, the woman’s fearful expression faltered for a moment before softening into a smile. "Oh, my apologies! With your attire, I took you for a brigand. But now I see—you must be highborn. Even the gods in heaven would pale beside you..."

"You're quite right—I am the bad guy, at least from your perspective." Watching the woman's skilled act while sensing her utterly contradictory emotional fluctuations, Ning Chan tugged at the corner of his lips, attempting a menacing grin.

Unfortunately, Ning Chan had worn his "good guy" mask for far too long, and the grin lacked much of its intended ferocity. Instead, it only added a dangerous edge to his striking beauty.

"You can't be serious—how could you be a bad guy?" Faced with Ning Chan's refusal to play along, the woman's arms trembled slightly around the child, her smile growing strained.

What was going on? Weren’t they told that he was the most compassionate of all? Why did he harbor such malice toward them? Had they messed up somewhere? Had he noticed something amiss—or was this his true nature all along?

Swallowing hard as she recalled her flawless performance, the woman concluded it must be the latter. Perhaps His Holiness was no benevolent savior, but a devil who twisted minds with lies?