Chapter 54

Chapter 54

"It's you!" Horace snarled.

No sooner had he spoken than he sensed the dark element on the arrow. His face suddenly turned extremely grim, and he blurted out: "A dark wizard! You're a dark wizard!"

Seeing that Pelan remained silent and did not lower his magic staff, Horace immediately pressed: "Are you from the Secret Cult? Why assassinate me?"

From their earlier conversation and the incident with Mayor Biller, Pelan had grown deeply wary of the Secret Cult. He was instantly alert but kept his composure, countering: "Are *you* from the Secret Cult?"

Hearing this, Horace's expression shifted several times before he stated flatly: "You are not a member of my sect! Who are you really?"

Now Pelan was sure: Not only did Horace know about the Secret Cult, he was a member!

The Secret Cult had to be playing a significant role in this war. This ancient organization had orchestrated this conflict weeks ago, perhaps even earlier!

The Anbesal Empire's Golem Legion was also tied to the Secret Cult! What were they hoping to gain from this war? Why did the Anbesal Empire choose to cooperate with them? Were there other forces pulling the strings? Was the Church of Light aware of this? Who held the secret to creating flesh golems? Did Horace have other accomplices?

A series of questions flashed through Pelan's mind, convincing him the situation was far more complex and shrouded in fog than he had anticipated.

As for the last question, the answer was undoubtedly yes.

The Anbesal Empire would never entrust command of a Golem Legion to an ordinary warrior. There must be at least one Magic Saint backing him, perhaps even more!

Time was short. This skirmish could be discovered at any moment. To get more information, Pelan played along: "You don't need to know who I am."

Before he could finish, his body suddenly stiffened. His joints felt as if rusted shut, his movements turned sluggish and jerky, as if he had become a puppet.

Horace laughed, his earlier grimness vanishing instantly. He yanked out the arrow pinning his wrist and wiped the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you stood around chatting with me for so long. It bought me enough time to activate this little trinket."

He pulled out a thumb-sized head from his left breast pocket. Pelan looked closely and saw it was a wooden doll that radiated a dense, dark aura.

"You..." Pelan blinked. This doll was actually a cursed puppet, whose creation had long been banned by major powers.

That Horace had one was no surprise. The Secret Cult was notorious and deeply entrenched; it was no surprise it counted several master alchemists among its members.

"It's no use struggling. Spirit threads woven from resentment have firmly bound every one of your joints. Soon your mind will start to go fuzzy too." Horace sneered. "Since you're a dark wizard, if you serve me obediently as my puppet, I might even put in a good word for you with the sect..."

At that moment, dozens of bony hands suddenly shot up from the ground around Horace's feet. Sharp, bony palms kept sprouting from the earth, tightly grasping his body.

The doll in his hand fell to the ground. Pelan gave his arm a slight, experimental flex, swiftly finished tracing the last magic rune, with no trace of stiffness in his movements.

"Impossible! You shouldn't be able to use magic?!" Horace's eyes widened, staring in utter disbelief at Pelan, who had just finished his incantation.

Now, all the bones vanished, dissolving into black mist that coiled around Horace, holding him fast.

A slender hand picked up the fallen doll. Lou Guanyue toyed with the broken puppet for a moment before ambling over to Pelan's side.

"Teacher, I left three broken golems for them to find. Brought the rest back." Lou Guanyue said, handing over a dimensional ring containing the flesh golems he had specifically retrieved after they lost Horace's control.

Pelan counted the captured golems and glanced at Lou Guanyue in surprise.

This many? Did he really bring them all back? Did he actually leave a few for Isadel and the others to complete their mission?

He tried using magic patterns to reconstruct the command system for the puppets, unexpectedly finding a pleasant surprise.

Combined with the Black Knights obtained from Austin's ruins, he now possessed twenty-one golems—equivalent to twenty-one robust, high-quality corpses! In that case, why not take this opportunity to "hunt" more flesh golems? The Anbesal Empire had dispatched an entire legion of them.

Thinking this, Pelan found the pros and cons so clear that any thoughts of retreat in his mind largely vanished.

The only flaw of these golems was their lack of souls; intricate commands required his mental energy to control.

But for a necromancer, this was no issue at all. Controlling an undead army consumed far more mental energy!

Not missing the flicker of interest in Pelan's eyes, Lou Guanyue glanced expressionlessly at Horace on the ground. "He's a Secret Cult member in disguise. How does Teacher plan to handle him?"

"Where are the other golems located?" Pelan set aside his thoughts and asked without hesitation.

Horace scoffed and spat. "I'd rather die than reveal any Secret Cult intelligence! Don't harbor any unnecessary hopes!"

Lou Guanyue spoke at a measured pace. "Frankly, I hope your bones are a bit harder. That way, you can experience that there are many things in this world more unbearable than death."

As he spoke, his fingertip hovered above the man's head. A wisp of red thread, like a living creature, coiled around his finger.

"If you really don't want to talk, I'll have no choice but to extract your soul directly. Don't worry, I won't let you die so easily."

As if recalling some terrifying past, Horace's face paled slightly. His eyeballs darted rapidly, and a gurgling sound came from his throat. "I won't say anything. Just kill me."

Stopping Lou Guanyue's next threat, Pelan raised his staff. His crimson lips parted slightly as he chanted an incantation: "...Truth Curse!"

The tip of the magic staff emitted a deep, gloomy light. Amid Horace's screams, layers of flame surged from within him, blocking Pelan's magic.

"The magic failed," Pelan murmured quietly.

As expected, it wouldn't be that simple to pry into their secrets. Otherwise, these heretics would have been completely eradicated under the Church of Light's relentless assaults long ago, though the Secret Cult's current situation wasn't much better.

"Teacher, shall I give it a try? See if I can pry his mouth open directly." Lou Guanyue suddenly spoke up, shaking the thread in his hand and winking at Pelan.

"Ah!"

In a cry of agony, Horace's body suddenly stiffened. The muscles on his face twisted immediately, revealing a ferocious expression.

Under the influence of the Yin energy from the Myriad Soul Banner, Horace's struggles diminished significantly. A faint spiritual form was gradually pulled out, soon floating in mid-air.

Lou Guanyue noticed the complex emotions flickering in Pelan's beautiful almond-shaped eyes. He was momentarily taken aback but quickly discerned Pelan's thoughts from his expression.

He raised the Soul Banner in his hand and chuckled softly. "This is the banner's effect. I'll teach you how to use it after we return."

Pelan nodded, gazing at Horace's soul, and asked solemnly, "Who sent you to Encarter Mountain? Where is the Anbesal Empire's Golem Legion hiding?"

Hearing the question, Horace's spectral form struggled violently. Lou Guanyue tightened the soul thread slightly, reducing the intensity of the struggle.

Horace's spectral eyes grew even more vacant, and he answered dazedly, "Lord Red sent me. I don't know where the legion is located."

"Who is 'Lord Red'?" Pelan pressed urgently.

Horace's expression contorted for a moment before he slowly uttered a few words after a long pause: "Lord Red is one of the Secret Cult's nine..."

Before he could finish, in the next instant, both his fallen body and spectral form were lifted as if by an invisible force.

A black longsword swept across violently.

Boom!

A massive rock and the surrounding trees were instantly severed in two. Wood splinters and stone fragments flew everywhere. The powerful magical force nearly knocked both men over. Amid the swirling dust, a figure abruptly stood at the breach. He wore a smooth metal mask, and his deep red robe, under the dim light, was as dense as congealed blood.

Horace collapsed to the ground. No blood seeped from the clean cut; instead, his entire body ignited in an instant, collapsing into a pile of charred remains. Even his soul seemed to have been corroded and annihilated by that dark, profound longsword.

Pelan paid no attention to Horace. The moment the longsword arrived, he had already raised his magic staff, blocking the greatsword and the flying debris.

The red-robed mage hovered in mid-air, as if he'd just squashed a bug. He coolly scanned the rapidly cooling pile of charred remains on the ground, then slowly shifted his gaze to Pelan.

Next, the space around him began to ripple and blur. The vivid red robe rapidly faded in the air. He didn't linger after killing Horace. Soon, he passed through a spatial rift and completely vanished into the darkness.

"...The soul has been completely incinerated too. What a clean, efficient job." Lou Guanyue patted the dust off his clothes and let out a regretful sigh. "That person must be the 'Red Lord' Horace mentioned. Now that he's escaped, Teacher, should we continue pursuing him or return to search for other clues?"

"I'll follow him. You go back and find Sipo and the others," Pelan said gravely.

Lou Guanyue cocked his head to look at him. "Teacher, do you have a way to locate that person?"

Pelan nodded slowly. He opened his palm, and a faint wisp of gray energy swirled around his fingertips.

"This is a 'Death Mark' I set up in advance in this area. Any living being that appears here will carry it. He only appeared, killed, and left—the time was so short he likely didn't even notice this mark, which is subtle to the point of near non-existence."

Suspecting that someone else was behind Horace, Pelan had quietly laid this concealed magic circle around them.

"I'll go with you," Lou Guanyue said without hesitation.

Pelan nodded, quickening his speech. The wisp of gray energy at his fingertip slowly pointed in a certain direction.

"He's moving fast. Let's go, before it dissipates."

...

The red-robed man passed through several spatial rifts and finally stopped in a pitch-black room.

"Red, you're three minutes late."

A deep, cold voice came from the shadowy figure at the head of the long table, its authority compelling involuntary obedience.

Red straightened his posture slightly and calmly took a seat at the lower end of the table, speaking unhurriedly, "I just dealt with a little bug."

"Oh? And you brought one back with you." As the low voice fell, a wisp of gray mist suddenly appeared on Red's body.

Red remained seated at the table, but beneath his mask, his face turned deathly pale, and fine beads of sweat instantly covered his forehead.

In the dead silence, the authoritative voice spoke again.

"There won't be a next time."

As the immense pressure lifted from him, Red let out a sigh of relief and bowed his head with extreme deference. "Yes, Leader."

"...We still need more souls for the ritual. There must be no more mistakes with the sacrifices... Red, you are responsible for Kaiva City."

Red stood up and bowed.

"Your will be done."

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Author's Note: Still advancing the plot today [shy]