"Gurgle…"
As the cold longsword pierced the heart of the Templar Knight, blood gushed forth. Lin Tuo noticed the knight's pitch-black pupils suddenly scatter.
A faint, almost invisible wisp of black vapor drifted out and dispersed into the wind.
This made his brow twitch ever so slightly, but his hand did not slow.
Pfft, pfft, pfft—In one breath, he cut down the remaining knights one by one.
To him, regardless of their condition or the crimes they committed, death was their only fitting destination.
Yet, this was not the end. He lifted his head, looking toward the church at the center of town. According to Baron Carter, the captured sorcerers were locked in the monastery behind the church.
There, too, some Templars awaited cleansing.
"Committing atrocities under my name… they should have been ready for punishment." Lin Tuo muttered under his breath. After a thought, he bent down, picked up a cloak, and draped it over himself.
Then, casting a cold glance at the butler collapsed in terror at the castle gate, he turned and strode toward the church.
The monastery wasn't far from the castle.
Perhaps because of the arrival of the Church's knights, the streets remained deserted even though dawn had broken. The few pedestrians who appeared hurried along, as though chased by dread.
The air itself seemed tense, filled with the scent of slaughter.
Clad in the black cloak, Lin Tuo walked along the cobbled road. Citizens instinctively stepped aside, their eyes full of fear.
Soon, a towering, solemn structure came into view. This district was utterly devoid of passersby—the silence suffocating.
"You are…?"
A simple cleric by the gate, startled by Lin Tuo's figure, spoke hesitantly.
"Where are the sorcerers being held? Take me there." His emotionless voice came from beneath the cloak.
"Who are you! This is sacred ground, trespa—"
The cleric's face hardened as he prepared to scold, but the next second, a bloodstained longsword thrust out from the cloak, pressing sharply against his throat.
"Lead the way."
A minute later, Lin Tuo stepped through the monastery's vestibule, arriving at the area where Templars stood guard—the prison where the sorcerers were held. As expected, several remained stationed here.
"Who goes there?!"
The knights spotted him, but Lin Tuo didn't answer. His figure blurred, closing in at terrifying speed.
The knights' faces changed. One roared and seemed to ignite some battle skill, his armor suddenly glowing with azure light.
The fundamental battle technique of the Church's knights.
Bang!
Yet in the next instant, Lin Tuo's long-prepared fist smashed forward. The knight's steel armor twisted under the blow with a screeching groan, and the hastily summoned glow shattered instantly!
At the castle gate earlier, Lin Tuo had already gauged their strength.
Their power was indeed above ordinary men. But against his full-force Weaponized Fist, they were nothing more than fragile shells.
Slice—
The sword flashed, and the knight's throat split open. More figures rushed in—several more knights, and some frail-looking black-robed hierophants.
"Purge the heretic!"
"Purge the heretic!"
Light, turbid yet divine, spread across the knights' bodies as divine blessings wrapped their forms. They surged toward Lin Tuo, while the hierophants launched shimmering bolts of holy fire from their hands.
Strange and bizarre.
Lin Tuo exhaled slowly. At a thought, ether surged out of his pores, condensing into a phantom suit of armor.
With a flick of his sword and every cell awakened, he charged headlong into the fray.
Deep in the monastery dungeon…
Within a vast cell cut open in the center of the corridor…
Cold, stagnant water covered the floor, pooled into patches. There was no sunlight, not even windows—only oil lamps fixed into the iron-walled passage cast dim light.
Inside the cell, nearly a hundred battered, filthy sorcerers gathered.
They sat slumped against the damp walls, or sprawled weakly on the ground.
With so much water, none could avoid soaking. Some had given up entirely, lying half-submerged.
This was the knights' method of preventing "meditation and recovery"—whips, water, endless torment—designed to stop them from cultivating, even from sleeping.
Captured from towns far and wide, these sorcerers survived by snatching what brief moments of rest they could between "stimuli," just to avoid mental collapse.
But now, even those half-asleep stirred awake, gazing in confusion down the corridor as the sounds of battle echoed nearer.
"What's happening?" croaked an old man on the verge of collapse.
A few younger sorcerers—still with some strength—dragged their shackles to the bars, straining to peer outside.
"Blood…? Someone's dying? Who are they fighting?"
"Could it be… someone's come to rescue us?"
Hope flickered briefly.
After all, in the past year, a few powerful sorcerers had indeed tried to storm the Church in rescue attempts.
But most shook their heads bitterly, unable to believe.
Soon, the chaos ended. The sounds of slaughter ceased.
Clang!
The iron gate at the corridor's end burst open. In chilling silence, a black-cloaked figure stepped into view, a blood-dripping sword in hand, boots splashing through the stagnant water.
"It's them!"
"Ahh—"
At the sight of the cloak, the sorcerers paled, recoiling in fear, mistaking him for a Templar. Only a few sensed otherwise.
"You… are the captured sorcerers?"
In the shadows, Lin Tuo's figure halted. Beneath the pointed hood, his face, unreadable, was lit by the flickering lamps.
"Y-yes… we are… you…" A bruised young man with tangled hair nodded cautiously.
Before he could finish his words, Lin Tuo swung his sword, striking the lock. The cell door flew open.
His eyes swept across the tortured men, women, children, and elders within. He sighed inwardly, then tossed a bloodstained ring of keys to the young sorcerer.
"The Templars are dead. Leave on your own."
Without lingering, he turned away under a hundred disbelieving gazes, walking back out the corridor.
Crossing corpses, Lin Tuo returned to the monastery's vestibule. There, he found a group of priests scrambling desperately for the door.
He didn't bother chasing them. Instead, he seized one cleric by the throat and asked coldly:
"You know where the monastery's library is, don't you?"
The cleric trembled violently.
Facing this demon-like stranger, his instinct was to shake his head. But under Lin Tuo's storm-laden gaze, he dared not.
"I-I know…"
"Good." Lin Tuo released him with a smile, patting his shoulder. "Take me there."
"What… what kind of books do you seek?"
"Spellcraft, divine arts, combat techniques, sorcery… everything about transcendent power."
Earlier, from Baron Carter, Lin Tuo had learned that monasteries in every city contained libraries. Besides religious texts, they collected knowledge across many fields.
Including, crucially, volumes on supernatural power.
Yes—divine arts, sorcery, battle techniques—all could be found within the Church's vaults. The larger the monastery, the richer the collection.
He didn't have the time to study them yet, but that didn't matter. Collecting them now meant saving intriguing techniques for later.
Oakwood Town's monastery was small. Its library only a single room, with one shelf on supernatural matters.
Lin Tuo did not complain. He stuffed the books into a sack and carried them outside.
Then, switching his consciousness, he lowered a finger of his true body from above the town, tossing the sack into the skies.
He shifted his finger again, locking onto a distant island in the middle of the ocean, far from both continents, and flung the books down there.
"I'll store them here for now, read later."
Switching back to his avatar, Lin Tuo heard footsteps. Turning, he saw the freed sorcerers—shackles broken, leaning on one another—dragging themselves out.
Exhausted, yet they forced themselves upright, gazes full of gratitude, reverence, and confusion as they looked at him.
"Sir, we…" The tangled-haired youth at the front faltered, unsure how to express their thanks.
Lin Tuo raised a hand to silence him. After a pause, he asked:"Do any of you know which direction the other capture squads went?"
The Church had many such teams. Lin Tuo could teleport directly to their headquarters… but seeing these frail survivors reminded him: more urgent than answers was saving the sorcerers still alive, dying on the road.
Rescuing them would also help reverse the ether's decline.
And the corrupted Templars had to be purged—dangerous to leave behind, even if they provided ether.
As for the Church's headquarters… from what he had learned, the last batch of captives was already executed there. This current batch was still en route.
So, they could wait.
They weren't escaping anywhere.
"The other squads…" The sorcerers seemed surprised by his question. After a silence, one finally pointed toward the distance.
"Not long ago, we crossed paths with another team. They said they were heading that way—toward Solan City."
"Good." Lin Tuo nodded, preparing to switch his consciousness and teleport.
Suddenly, the young sorcerer blurted, voice trembling with hope:"Sir… are you going to—"
Lin Tuo paused briefly, then said, flat and cold:
"I'm going to kill."
With that, his avatar flickered, leaping into the air—vanishing without a trace.
(End of Chapter)