Chapter 2093 - 559: Clash of Black Hands

The summer evening breeze brushed across the scorched earth, still warm, with trenches marking the nameless hillside like ugly scars.

Here lies the frontline of the Ten Thousand Ridges Mountain Range, a nameless hill that just changed hands.

The First Mountain Corps was stationed in this mountainous area, with the banner of the Laine Camp planted in the rubble not far from the tent, beside several charred Ratmen corpses.

Inside the tent.

Sir Dickbin sat on a toppled ammunition box, using a nearly burned-out half candle to write in a grimy notebook.

His fingers were coarse, the nail crevices filled with stubborn black dirt and blood stains, showing no trace of being a nobleman's hand.

Yet he harbored no resentment towards Edward, who sent him here.

If he hadn't personally walked into that cave and seen the Ryan people trapped in cages, treated like livestock, he might have remained an ignorant and arrogant fool, spouting foolish words that would draw laughter and tears.

"On the evening of July 6, we captured another hill."

"Gutaf's officer told us that if we advance 90 kilometers northeast, we can pierce through this damned mountain range to meet with the Dwarves of the High Mountain Kingdom. This distance doesn't sound far, but I'd rather march 900 kilometers on the plains..."

Writing here, Sir Dickbin felt a bit conflicted and paused for a long time before continuing to record today's observations.

Just a few hours ago, before sunset, they had cleared out the Ratman Cave on this hill.

The situation there would shock even a Demon; the only word that came to mind was massacre, though perhaps slaughter would be more fitting.

Because the eyes of the rescued ones were like fish stunned on a chopping block, hollow eyes like dry wells showing little desire to survive.

It's hard to imagine they come from Roland City, sharing the same hometown as himself...

"...I once thought I was a person chosen by the Holy Light, a knight fighting for a sacred cause, never realizing that the court and the church behind me were crawling with maggots, nor did I notice myself becoming part of it."

"Initially, I thought they were just a little greedy, nothing serious, but I didn't expect they were unsatisfied with the peasants' crop and wanted to mince their flesh and blood as well, swallowing it whole."

"Saint Sis, if you truly exist, why hasn't your thunder struck us yet? Or perhaps... all we are enduring now is your revenge for our arrogant blasphemy?"

The candle flame flickered, its light dancing on Sir Dickbin's stubble-covered face, outlining the complexity in his eyes.

He's been pondering for some time why blasphemy keeps occurring, yet never finds an answer that convinces him.

However, there's one thing he's figured out.

And firmly believes.

If powers beyond mortality fall into the hands of those undeserving, it will surely lead to disaster.

Both those deep within and those pretending to be uninvolved will bear the karma of arrogance.

The Ratmen are using human clan magic to prevent a group of humans from rescuing their compatriots... this is what he witnessed firsthand at the frontline.

Currently, it's only Rune Crossbows and Magic Scrolls; he has no idea what terrifying things they'll encounter next.

Those rats have just been dazed, but clearly not defeated yet. Once their masters react, this battle is far from over...

Sir Dickbin closed the diary, letting out a long breath, as if releasing the turbid air from his chest.

But just as he was about to put the diary back in the bag, an unusual sound outside the tent caught his attention.

That sound didn't resemble wind nor the footsteps of patrolling soldiers, instead like burning dry wood, seemingly from very far away.

Instinctively, Dickbin grabbed the bolt-action rifle leaning on the table, blew out the wavering light behind him, and crouched out of the tightly sealed military tent.

Outside the camp, all was deathly silent, except for distant insect chirping.

He squinted, cautiously scanning around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but saw nothing, just the low-pressing night sky overhead.

"An illusion…"

He muttered, intending to turn back into the tent, yet suddenly, an abnormal change erupted!

The pitch-black sky seemed torn apart by an invisible giant hand, as an eye-piercing Magic Light exploded without warning above the clouds.

In that instant, night turned as bright as day!

Sir Dickbin's pupils contracted sharply, and in the orange-red firelight, he saw a scene that made his soul fly away!

The clouds were burning.

Numerous fiery fireballs trailed long flames, like a Divine Punishment meteor shower, falling overwhelmingly towards the hill they had just conquered!

The lightning of punishing sins hadn't arrived, but the flame to burn the atoners was already above "Laine Camp"!

"Saint Sis above..."

Dickbin squeezed out a curse of despair from his throat.

And before his curse could fall, the first burning Fire Meteor had already struck the nearby position!

Boom——!

The massive explosion sound lagged half a second before flooding the eardrums, the earth trembled violently, overturning Dickbin completely to the ground.