An Unconventional Rescue

Midnight.

Darkness, damp cold, and countless rodents and insects rustled in the pitch-black corners of the cells.

A female Extraordinary person whose foreign features were obvious despite her tattered clothes shifted her gaze uneasily. Her emotions were clearly unstable as she looked toward Chapatik, the Third-Order Profane Cultist who served as the backbone of the Ancient God's Retinue.

Perhaps to encourage herself, she said:

"Mr. Chapatik, doesn't our main force have Fourth-Order Extraordinary people? They should have arrived around the agreed time. Once they realize we're missing, they'll definitely find a way to look for us, right?"

No matter how evil someone was, they still feared death. The Extraordinary people from the Black Obelisk were naturally no exception.

The frontline operatives scattered across various locations did not know the full plans of the gods. They only knew that they were to establish an advance base and prepare for a prolonged battle, with the goal of collecting the fingernails of the surviving Zong Deli Rik People. The more, the better.

At the same time, they had been specifically instructed to operate only around the outer edges of these islands and not venture too deeply into the territory of the ancient surviving people. That place meant absolute danger. They did not need ideas of their own; they only needed to carry out the orders of their superiors.

However.

A long time had already passed since the accident. The oppressive feeling of seeing no hope of rescue for so long had left most of them on edge, desperately needing some external support to keep themselves going.

But Chapatik, the Profane Cultist, had likewise lost the patience he once had for maintaining the group's morale. The moment he spoke, he mercilessly shattered her illusion:

"Stop lying to yourselves. We've been abandoned. Given the church's