Chapter 1390 - 748: Raid (Part 2)

Chapter 1390: Chapter 748: Raid (Part 2)

Sure, here is the translated text:

So the original holiday victory day was nothing more than consistently requesting battle after the day turned.

What holiday? Nonexistent, they wanted more to eliminate those guys and reclaim the entire Hamlet!

Public sentiment is useful...

The Honor Guard led by Reynard was even more swift, because letting those go would be troublesome.

One person, two horses, sparing no effort, relying on the hawks circling overhead to guide them in a wild sprint.

...

Ascension Sect indeed initially developed quite a number of followers in the surrounding areas, including some ambiguous high-level figures.

But don’t forget those places still have the Church present, so they were destined to only influence a part and find it difficult to appear openly.

This led to a situation where it was essentially impossible to fully control a territory, at least in the short term.

Ovando was easily corrupted by the Ascension Sect because of the active river port and strategic trading hub.

But these territories were still primarily inland, dominated by traditional agriculture, where Church influence was stronger.

So saying the Church was entirely worthless wouldn’t be accurate, its existence indeed suppressed the spread of the evil cult.

But none of this mattered anymore; within this background, when the Ascension Sect was desperate, they could only bring out a part.

Those teams mixed with a few noble Knights, mostly mercenaries, serfs, and cultists, fell quickly after several massacres, all turning into cultists.

Because they could truly feel the power gained from devouring flesh, which was irresistible to them.

That’s why Lance chose to Bless the soldiers’ Strengthening, typically either during battles, after training, or at special occasions like award ceremonies.

It’s meant to highlight their own efforts, not wipe out their humanity, letting their consciousness acknowledge it’s not solely the Lord’s gift but the fruit of their efforts, an earned effect.

Simply put, it’s to establish a correct feedback mechanism; otherwise, they would fall into endless thirst and madness like these.

Now these teams were all controlled by the evil cult spellcasters, and those scattered few noble Knights had been reduced to their guards.

It’s not that the cultists were disloyal to their ancestor, in reality, the cult’s brainwashing ability was akin to an ideological stamp.

But the leading spellcasters retained some semblance of their minds, and interestingly, they were constantly oppressed by Lance, knowing what a ghostly place Hamlet truly was.

Extreme Darkness covered and the advent of the Blood Moon granted them the [Great Blessing], of course they weren’t afraid, but the emptiness from rapid withdrawal of that power after daylight was enough to calm their frenzied minds.

Combined with completely losing divine guidance after daylight, and the leader not being present here, those evil cult spellcasters understood the momentum was gone, and they didn’t dare to charge Hamlet heedlessly like before.

Previously rushing forward due to time, and restrained by those noble Knights, nothing like village massacres occurred in the past.

That’s not because those noble Knights were good people, simply because they came to annex these places; if everyone died, who would do the work? Certainly not the lords?

But these guys were slaves to flesh, and the void caused by the fading Great Blessing at daylight drove them to madness.

Spellcasters knew they must find a power to appease them, or the Ascension Sect would truly become nothing but a name.

Although they dared not attack Hamlet, they had the guts to bully ordinary people, and plenty of it.

Thus they started ravaging the surrounding area, relying on slaughter to maintain order inside, simultaneously causing others to swiftly fall.

Now those cultists faced only one path: seize the opportunity while Hamlet hadn’t reacted, plundering rapidly, accumulating, then turning and concealing like countless other cults, waiting for a chance.

So the teams started dispersing, preparing for further slaughter.

In a nameless village within Hamlet, some people who escaped from the great catastrophe years ago, developed fields in the wilderness, slowly forming a village that, after years, reached a hundred population.

Hamlet’s decline left no energy to manage this area, and the external lords couldn’t control it, with no bureaucratic exploitation it didn’t form a farming master, so the village remained relatively calm.

Sadly, today that tranquility was suddenly shattered, as a group stormed in from nowhere.

These people were equipped oddly, mostly spears, some swords and the like, their clothing disorderly, many stained and foul with blood, appearing like bandits and thieves.

Though the village had encountered robbers over the years, amidst chaos some already shouted to organize resistance, determined to protect their property.

The able-bodied grabbed whatever pitchforks, spears they could, village hunters drew their bowstrings, both sides were on the verge of... breaking.

It was simply not the same level; these cultists harbored spellcasters, a single sorcery would break the ordinary people, disrupting their formation and stripping them of any ability to resist.

The old hunter desperately plucked bowstrings, shooting arrows precisely into the rabid cultists, but with little effect.

Though cultists lost the mighty ancestor’s blessing, flesh mutations persisted, granting them far superior strength and recovery.

The rebelling old hunter was targeted by a Heretic Priest, a Soul-Entangling Curse dazed him for a moment before a mercenary sliced him down from nowhere.

"Run quickly!" The old hunter struggled as he fell, glancing sideways to utter final words, before being finished with another strike.

Those daring to resist were killed, undeniably leaving this as a massacre...

"Run quickly!"

"Don’t kill me, I’ll give you money, all of it!"

"Ahhhh!"

Some terror-stricken people desperately fled, only to hear noise from behind; before reacting, the next second one "flew" up.

An armored Knight charged on horseback, the lance instantly picking up one fleeing ahead.

The man didn’t die immediately but struggled on the lance, yet this scene drew the Knight’s mad laughter, as sadistic and lunatic.

"Hahaha!"

He chased the frantically fleeing villagers like a cat catching mice, the wanton slaughter fueled his desires!

A youth escaped from the chaotic village, with the hunting bow in his hand indicating he was one of its hunters.

Now his expression was filled with rage, having just witnessed his father’s death by those guys’ hands.

Yet he couldn’t hide his fear, having seen arrows pulled out from those people and healed, impossible to defeat these monsters!

But at this moment his expression changed, horse hooves sounded behind him, reflexively rolling sideways to evade the bloodstained lance.

The Knight was surprised, not expecting to meet a rabbit that resisted, adding a trace of fun to his hunt.

Just as he stood, the charging Knight came around, an indescribable feeling filled his heart, as if marked by a beast.

The next moment the Knight redirected his charge, the hunter’s hair stood on end, he turned and ran.

But how could a normal person outpace a horse’s four legs; after rolling twice he sensed the Knight’s tease, in despair of escaping he turned back and drew one last arrow.

Only, that arrow symbolizing a final struggle pinged off the armor with a slight dent, but the Knight was already charging.

Facing the lance aimed at him was a terror beyond words...

"Bang!"

A sudden gunshot echoed, the charging Knight’s figure briefly paused, forcefully halting his charge, turning back to find a man seated on horseback, with smoke trailing from the long gun in his hand...