God of Tainted Blood

"You sensed the Ritual of the God of Tainted Blood."

"The Ritual of the God of Tainted Blood: A mysterious ritual. Creatures participating in the ritual would gain an extremely powerful desire and ability to reproduce, at the cost of the mother's vitality."

"Insight (+60) activated!" (Note 1.)

"You sensed the statue of the God of Tainted Blood."

Somewhere beyond perception.

Roger's gaze seemed to pierce through the layers of obstacles surrounding the large house, revealing a mysterious stone statue.

The statue had only a head. It had eyes without pupils, and its inverted-triangle face was covered in fine blood-colored lines.

Roger only looked at it for a moment before feeling a dull pain in his temples.

"As expected, another cultist?"

Back in the orchard, he had vaguely guessed Hanfulan's background.

And now, his guess had been confirmed.

Although he did not know what this God of Tainted Blood was, it was undoubtedly the source of all the abnormalities.

Hanfulan might also be nothing more than a pawn.

No wonder even the Emerald Young Dragon was wary of him.

Roger, however, had no intention of giving up.

Mystra was a place where cultists were everywhere.

If he ran away every time he encountered one, he might really spend the rest of his life in the beginner's village.

"Let's keep looking."

After the people in the courtyard had left.

Roger vaulted over the wall.

With a few leaps, he vanished into the darkness.

Over the next few days.

Roger gathered information in the village of the Marshland Refugees.

It was better to sharpen one's blade before chopping wood.

For Roger, only after making the most thorough preparations would he choose to act.

The situation in the village was terrible.

Hanfulan had increased the rate at which Fire Oranges were distributed.

Every day, someone was "blown to pieces" by the flesh tumors on their necks. The frequency was rising, and so was the number of victims.

Aside from the rich scent of magic, a heavy, deathly gloom had also begun to permeate the village.

Every night.

Hanfulan held the "Ritual of the God of Tainted Blood" in his large house.

In just a few short days.

Nearly all the women had completed the terrifying process from pregnancy to old age.

Their children were also growing at a monstrous rate.

Newborn babies could grow into something resembling teenagers within a few days, gaining rudimentary combat ability.

These children resembled monsters even more than ordinary Marshland Refugees did.

They were thin, with unnaturally long limbs.

Compared to walking upright on two feet, they seemed to prefer crawling.

They could not speak, had no expressions, and refused to get close to their mothers.

They obeyed Hanfulan alone.

Hanfulan fed them large amounts of Fire Oranges, and these children were clearly much better at digesting magic.

Many of them acquired powerful Spell-like Abilities.

Only a scant few were accidentally blown to pieces.

Day after day passed.

Hanfulan appeared less and less often.

He locked himself inside that large house and never came out.

Roger knew there was not much time left before Hanfulan attacked Dragon Tooth Village.

"It is time to act."

Roger found Cindy and told her about everything he had seen and heard over the past few days.

"We truly have no idea what kind of being the God of Tainted Blood is."

"After all, there are simply too many infamous evil gods in Mystra..."

Cindy pondered.

"If everything you saw is true, then Hanfulan should be that evil god's representative."

"Mm... Are you worried about getting into trouble?"

"If that is what concerns you, you need not worry too much. The existence of the World-Ending Forbidden Spell blocks the sight of most evil gods. It is actually very difficult for them to extend their claws here. Someone like Hanfulan is already the strongest representative the evil gods can find."

Roger nodded without revealing anything.

"I can guarantee that after you kill Hanfulan, the God of Tainted Blood will not come looking for trouble with you."

Cindy made the solemn promise.

Roger thought for a moment. "I plan to kill Hanfulan tonight."

"But there are two things I need Muse's help with."

"First, I need the Emerald Dragon God's Blessing in advance."

"Second, I need her to appear in person. She does not actually have to attack—just fly around once."

Cindy hesitated. After a while, she nodded uncertainly.

"All right."

"I will convey your request."

As night fell.

Roger moved unpredictably along the edge of the reed beds.

He was under the effect of the "Emerald Dragon God's Blessing."

"Emerald Dragon God's Blessing: Your perception, intelligence, and strength each increase by 1 point."

Since the points had been assigned randomly, this result was merely average for Roger.

Among the six basic attributes.

What he needed most were agility and perception, followed by strength and constitution. Intelligence and charisma were the least useful.

The importance of agility and perception went without saying. Strength and constitution also determined his body's basic qualities.

Intelligence represented one's affinity with the elements and potential for studying the realm of magic.

With Roger's Spell Resistance constitution, he naturally had little affinity with the elements.

As for charisma... it was better left unmentioned! "It is equivalent to getting 1 point of strength and 1 point of perception for free. Not bad."

Roger entered the village of the Marshland Refugees through a path in the reeds and began heading toward his predetermined location.

Along the way, he saw several Marshland Refugees blow themselves to pieces.

One after another, like a fireworks festival.

His heart grew somewhat heavy.

"Is it about time?"

Just as he was thinking this.

A resounding dragon's roar suddenly came from the sky!

"It's a dragon!"

"An attack!"

"Ah..."

The village instantly erupted in commotion.

The refugees who retained even a sliver of reason looked fearfully at the sea-blue figure.

"What are you standing around for?"

Hanfulan ran out of the large house and deftly pulled up his trousers. "Go push out the ballista!"

"Spellcaster squad, assemble!"

With Hanfulan's appearance, order was temporarily restored in the village.

The refugees began moving about in a daze.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! The giant dragon in the sky flapped its wings frantically.

Gales swept through the village, overturning many of the low houses.

"Faster! Faster!"

Hanfulan began shouting orders.

Suddenly, a guard ran over. "Lord Hanfulan!"

"The orchard is on fire!"

Hanfulan froze for a moment. "The orchard is their target?"

"Take some people over there and put out the fire!"

The guard immediately led a group of people away.

A moment later.

Someone else ran over to report.

"Lord Hanfulan!"

"The warehouse where the ballistas are stored is on fire!"

This time, Hanfulan truly could not sit still!

He hurriedly prepared to lead people over to put out the fire.

But before he had gone far, he suddenly stopped!

"Something is wrong!"

Hanfulan shook off his subordinates with a vicious expression and strode back.

Before long, he returned to the outside of the large house.

In the chaotic square.

It seemed that no one noticed a sneaky figure slipping out through the side door of the large house.

The person was hunched over, carrying something wrapped in burlap.

"Stop!"

Hanfulan flew into a rage.

The shout startled the person. They grabbed the bundle and ran for their life! Hanfulan had no time to think. He snatched up a knife and charged after them.

The person ran extremely fast, racing out of the village in just a few leaps.

But Hanfulan was not slow either.

In fact, the distance between them was gradually shrinking.

The two ran one in front and one behind.

In the blink of an eye, they had traveled two or three li and entered the more complicated terrain of the marshland.

The wind whistled more fiercely beside their ears.

Hanfulan suddenly jolted to his senses.

"I've been tricked!"

At that moment.

He saw the object in the figure's arms fall to the ground.

With a plop, it landed in the swamp.

It was actually a gigantic Sand Yam!

Boom! Along with the strange sound, the enraged Hanfulan suddenly stepped into empty air.

The scene before his eyes began spinning wildly! "A trap."

The words had barely surfaced in his mind.

When he felt a piercing pain! He looked down.

Beneath the pit, countless bamboo stakes as long as a forearm had been buried!

"Ah!"

A cry of agony rose from the bottom of the pit.

Like the most ferocious beast falling into the trap of the most cunning hunter.

Above the pit.

A face shrouded in shadow slowly appeared.

Night had fallen.

(Note 1: The previous text was incorrect. It was written as Insight +6, but it was actually +60. Corrected.)