Nork Town Purge Operation

"Dedede, dedededede~"

Corpses lay everywhere, each one pierced by a silver-white crossbow bolt.

A light, cheerful humming sound faintly arose, utterly out of place with the bloody scene.

Accompanied by this cheerful humming, an orange-haired girl holding a silver-white crossbow stepped lightly, spinning and hopping as she carefully picked her way through the pile of corpses, searching for a place to set her feet.

The girl wore a white skirt that didn't reach her knees. Whenever she spun, it would flutter upward. Looking down, her fair, slender legs were clad in black knee-high boots, though those once-clean little boots were now stained with blood and grime from her stepping on the corpses.

From time to time, she raised her hand crossbow to finish off an enemy still struggling on the ground, then continued on her way with light steps.

Finally, not a single corpse among the lot was still moving. The girl turned to look, still humming a cheerful tune. Her delicate face bore features perfectly arranged in just the right proportions. She pursed her small lips and blew a leisurely breath, rolling her eyes upward to try and see the lock of bangs on her forehead that fluttered with the motion.

"Hmm..."

Just as she was about to turn, a faint moan came from the ground beside her.

The girl turned, bent down slightly, and followed the sound. Among the pile of corpses, a small, blood-smeared face poked out, struggling to lift its head and look at her, its eyes blazing with anger.

The girl crouched down, looking at the little face so close to hers with curiosity and delight, then called out loudly:

"Master, Master, come quick and see what I found—a little shota!"

Hearing her call, a middle-aged man in brown clothes and a black cloak walked out of the room, a handkerchief in his hand as he wiped blood from his fingers.

Seeing his disciple crouched there, shouting and staring without caution at an enemy who could still fight back, he frowned, his thick brows knitting together, and spoke with a helpless tone.

"How many times have I told you? After a battle, make sure every enemy has lost the ability to fight before you get close. Why do you still not pay attention?"

"Aiya," the girl said in a coquettish voice, making a pitiful face at her master. "Ahhh, Master, stop scolding me, my head's about to explode. He's just a cute little brother—how could he possibly attack me, right, little brother?"

As she spoke, the girl lowered her head, reached out a finger, and carefully poked the shota's smooth little cheek, a lecherous grin spreading across her face.

"Ptoo."

Before she could finish, the girl was slapped in the face. The shota, pinned under the corpses and barely able to move, struggled to spit at her, his voice full of anger and hatred.

"Demon."

The girl froze, her finger trembling slightly.

"You..."

Her face flushed with anger, she suddenly stood up, raised her crossbow, and unleashed a furious barrage at the shota's head.

"Ahhh, I'm so mad! You actually spat on me! I'm furious!"

"Pfft, pfft, pfft..."

A rapid series of sounds as sharp bolts pierced flesh. The shota's once-handsome face was instantly shredded into a bloody mess, no longer recognizable as human.

Still not satisfied, the girl lifted her foot and stomped viciously on the shota's ruined head with her bloodstained little boot.

Watching the girl's brutal display, the middle-aged man showed no reaction. His face expressionless, he tossed the blood-soaked white handkerchief he'd used to wipe his hands onto the ground and walked outside.

"Enough, Anxia. Stop playing. We need to hurry to Nork Town. Someone there paid a big price for us to kill a person. Once this job is done, we can buy some equipment and such."

"Oh, oh."

The girl replied to her master while still frowning, kicking the shota's corpse a few more times in annoyance before quickly chasing after her master's retreating figure.

"Ahhh, Master, my little white dress got blood on it!!!"

"I told you not to wear it. You wouldn't listen. Whose fault is it that it's dirty?"

"Maaaster~"

"I'm not washing it for you."

"Master, Master, Master, Master, Master~"

"..."

"Don't expect this next time."

"Hehe, I knew you were the best, Master."

Under the setting sun, the silhouettes of master and disciple stretched longer and longer, until they vanished into the enormous sunset...

Nork Town had fallen into an eerie calm, but beneath that calm, everyone could feel it—the town was like a war machine, spinning into high gear. Many newcomers, their bodies reeking of blood, slipped in quietly under the cover of night.

Of all this, Hals, cultivating single-mindedly in the basement, knew nothing. Because at that moment, he had touched upon a bottleneck. Yes, over the past year or so, Hals had frequently entered that gluttonous state, devouring vast amounts of souls that turned into nourishment for his cultivation. His already swift training speed had surged to an even higher level. In just over a year, he had reached level ninety. All he needed now was the final enlightenment of his Martial Soul and a new Soul Ring.

In the basement.

An eerie silence reigned. The basement, which should have been pitch black, was now bathed in a faint green glow. Following the light, one could see Hals, clad in a robe, his entire body shrouded in green flames.

Flames were always wild and untamed, but these green flames were different. They expanded and contracted slowly in rhythm with Hals's breathing.

At Hals's waist, a lantern emitting a soft green light had appeared, also wrapped within the flames.

As Hals's breathing grew more rapid, the flames trembled violently. Finally...

"Boom."

A dull roar that resonated on the level of the soul. The flames contracted sharply, turning into a line of fire that Hals inhaled into his abdomen.

"Aaaahhhh—"

Hals's body suddenly tensed. He threw his head back, wailing in agony as scorching flames gradually spread through his body, bringing an intense burning sensation. The violent pain relentlessly lashed at his soul, causing his consciousness to slowly blur.

In a daze, Hals felt as if he had returned to those times when his "father" tormented him endlessly.

"Father... spare me..."

Greenwood's stronghold

The members of Greenwood all knew full well that their leader was planning an attack against that "brute." But by unspoken agreement, they kept quiet about this nearly public knowledge, doing their utmost to maintain an information blackout on the target. Today, however, two strange guests had arrived at Greenwood...

"You must be Lord Dagov. It's an honor to invite you and your esteemed disciple here today. We still need to wait for the right moment, so if you and your disciple would like to look around, I can have someone escort you—" The Greenwood leader said with a smile to Dagov and Anxia, who was glancing around curiously.

"No need." Dagov's expression was cold and indifferent. Before the Greenwood leader could finish, Dagov cut him off, then said impatiently, "We'll handle ourselves. Just call us when it's time to kill."

Cut off mid-sentence, the Greenwood leader paused for a moment, then continued smiling. "Alright, alright. Whatever you wish."

"Mm."

Dagov nodded and turned to leave.

"Anxia, let's go."

"Oh, oh, got it, Master." Anxia, who had still been looking left and right, quickly followed after him upon hearing her master's call, leaning in close to Dagov as if whispering something.

Watching the master-disciple pair walk away, the Greenwood leader curled his lips into an enigmatic smile.

"Heh."