Chapter 24

"Your Majesty, what on earth did you do? To actually scare these villains to death! Especially this leader, his end was truly miserable..."

Gerald wiped the Bone Bracelet with a leaf, looking at the Orc corpses strewn about the ground. He then glanced at "Blood Hand" Luer, whose face was twisted in extreme agony and who had soiled himself so thoroughly that even in death, one would instinctively want to stay away. Gerald felt not only a sense of disgust but, even more so, curiosity.

"Actually, I don't know myself. I just tapped this fellow lightly," Sui Xiong said, pointing at Luer's corpse. "As for the others, I didn't even touch them; I have no idea how they died."

"Oh, wait, I do know. They were frightened to death by extreme terror, to the point that even after death, their souls went mad and turned into vengeful spirits."

As he spoke, he pointed to a mass of writhing black mist under the shade of a tree not far away.

Within the black mist, one could vaguely see frantic figures, screaming one moment and giggling the next.

Gerald tilted his head to listen curiously, but the moment he heard a trace of that manic laughter, his heart gave a violent jolt. He hurriedly stopped listening to the eerie sound and found a topic to distract himself.

"Your Majesty, I counted just now; there are only about thirty corpses here. The bandits who attacked yesterday numbered around thirty-five or thirty-six. How should we handle the rest? Do you need me to hunt them down?"

"No need for such trouble." Sui Xiong smiled. "Giving someone a chance at survival is only natural; whether they can seize that chance is their own fortune. But that chance isn't so easily grasped—at the very least, they shouldn't expect to seize it by running away. Anyone who was here just now, even if they ran for the moment, won't truly escape. I can feel that fellow will be back to throw his life away soon enough; we just need to wait here a little while."

Gerald was stunned. From the time he left to the time he returned, it had only been the time it took to chat for a bit and eat two pieces of roasted meat. In that short span, without the sound of fighting, without a trace of battle, and without a drop of blood, twenty Orc bandits had been dealt with. Even those who fled wouldn't survive.

The vast, immense power of a deity is truly unimaginable!

In fact, only one Orc bandit had managed to escape from this place.

A figure was sprinting wildly through the forest, his feet kicking up dust, gasping like an ox.

This was the shaman of the Orc Wolf Rider Band, known as "The Accountant" Burke. His status was second only to the leader, Luer, and he usually served as the group's steward.

He was the oldest in the entire bandit gang, usually silent, indifferent, and lacking in presence. Generally, he only appeared beside Luer when it was time to split the loot after a raid, valuing items other than cash, calculating the costs of the battle, and finally determining the profit so Luer could decide how to divide the spoils.

He never asked for a share of the loot, nor did he communicate with anyone other than Luer. Even when acting as the accountant, or when treating injured bandits, or participating in battle himself, he kept his lips tightly pressed, never saying a word.

But at this moment, his face was full of panic, his lips trembling, and his teeth chattered as he ran wildly.

A while ago, Burke had been doing as he usually did, sitting quietly in a safe place, watching Luer—the powerful Orc he had brought out of the tribe, who had grown rapidly to the point of leading him—use tough and cunning methods to successfully extort a rare treasure from a naive, simple, and kind-hearted giant.

It was a glorious victory, worthy of praise. The Beast Driver (the Orc god of medicine and strategy) would also be pleased by this, for compared to simple, violent plunder, He preferred using intimidation and deception to acquire spoils.

As one of the few shamans among the Orcs who worshipped the god of medicine and strategy, Burke usually didn't like to talk because he preferred to think and pray in silence, pouring his mind into conceiving schemes and prayers.

In his view, Luer's methods of acquiring loot were too crude and direct, lacking the beauty of violence. Yet this time, although Luer's methods were still somewhat rough, there had been a qualitative change—a difference as vast as heaven and earth compared to the past.

This made him very happy, feeling that Luer had finally become enlightened.

But his joy lasted only a very short time.

When Luer hung the bracelet used by the giant around his neck like a collar, Burke clearly saw a cyan-white light rise from the collar, transforming into a strange form he had never seen before. It emitted a suffocating aura, and an indescribably intense pressure gave him the illusion that his heart was being crushed in an instant.

The surrounding Orcs were scared out of their wits almost instantly, screaming and fleeing in all directions, but before they could take two steps, they clutched their chests and collapsed one by one. He, however, relied on the strong will he had honed over many years to hold on for a while, not losing his composure immediately.

But this was not necessarily a good thing, because it allowed him to see clearly that the strange object merely extended a tentacle and tapped Luer lightly. The fierce and brutal Luer was then crushed by extreme terror, going from feigning calm to a total breakdown, losing all power to resist, and being forced toward death by that indescribably powerful force—all in just a few moments.

Heavens! What kind of monster lived inside that bracelet!

The only thing he could do was kneel down and take out his holy symbol to pray.

"Beast Driver, please protect my soul, let me think calmly, and spare me from fear and madness!"

As usual, divine power descended rapidly, turning into a cold, wind-like aura that poured into his body, clearing his mind and stabilizing his thoughts, allowing him to break free from the panic and unease.

Then, he turned and ran without hesitation.

He did not ride his mount, because all the dire wolves had whimpered and fled in a frenzy, tails tucked, running with all their might as if chased by the most terrifying Magic Beast, likely not stopping until they dropped dead from exhaustion.

In fact, he felt that what he was doing was no different from those beasts.

Run, run as fast as possible, run as far away as possible.

He didn't know what that damned Bone Bracelet was, but he could be certain that the thing was far more mysterious and powerful than anything they had ever known.

The Orc Wolf Rider Band was finished, Luer was finished, and now all he could do was try to save himself.

Even of this, he was not very certain.

The effect of the spell would not last long. If he couldn't run out of the range of that eerie Bone Bracelet before it wore off, he was a dead man!

Burke ran with all his might, squeezing out every last drop of strength he possessed, not considering whether there would be any lasting damage, his mind filled with only one thought.

Run faster! Further!

"What on earth is that thing? What exactly rose from the Bone Bracelet?"

Incredibly, while sprinting, he was still able to spare some thoughts to ponder.

"Powerful... vast... immeasurable..."

Suddenly, his pupils contracted violently, a dry gasp escaped his throat, and his muscles stiffened in an instant.

He had guessed the truth about that thing.

But he wished he hadn't guessed correctly, or hadn't thought about this question at all.

His cheeks trembled, his teeth chattered, and fear coiled around him like a giant python, making him unable to stand steadily. His legs went weak in an instant; forget about running, he had to lean against a nearby tree just to keep from collapsing to the ground.

"That is... that is... that is... a deity!"

The usually calm and composed Burke finally let out a shrill scream, his body trembling as if he were suffering from a fever.

"I must run! I must run quickly! Run as far as I can! Escape the Four Northwest Towns, escape the Desolate Mountains, flee to the interior, and don't stop for a second! If I don't run fast enough, perhaps He will come looking for me soon!"

"...No, perhaps He is already on His way!"

Thinking of this, the Orc Shaman's fur stood on end. Although the weather was quite warm and he was wearing comfortable clothing, he felt an irresistible chill. This coldness emanated from his very soul, making him feel as if he were standing naked on an ice field in the dead of winter, as if he would freeze into a block of ice the very next moment.

"Run! Run! Hurry and run!"

But he could not bring himself to move; his trembling legs refused to obey, and it took several attempts before he could barely manage to stand steady.

"This won't do! I can't escape like this; I must rely on the power of the Beast Driver..."

He knelt down—which was easy enough—and with shaking hands, he took out his holy symbol and began to pray.

However, this time, Burke's prayers went unanswered.

The gods of the Orcs were fierce and violent; the prayers of a coward would never receive a response.

Fortunately, he still had reserve magic items. Discovering that his prayers were ineffective, he immediately pulled out a gold-rimmed scroll, unfolded it without hesitation, and pressed his magic into the key rune upon it.

The expensive scroll ignited, transforming into a golden halo that settled upon him. His exhausted body quickly regained its vitality, and his mind, which had fallen into chaos due to fear, regained a sliver of courage.

And so, the Shaman who could be called the mastermind behind the Orc Wolf Rider Band continued his flight. His pace was frantic; several times he tripped over tree stumps or stones by the roadside, crashing heavily to the ground. Then, he would hurriedly scramble back up and continue fleeing into the distance, not daring to even look back, as if something were chasing him from behind.

No, he felt it truly and clearly: something was indeed chasing him. That thing was incomparably vast, incomparably powerful, and incomparably terrifying...

Without him realizing it, the power of the magic faded, and fear once again engulfed his soul.

He was going to be caught, he was going to be caught! Ha, it was impossible for a mortal to escape from the presence of a god. The only reason he had been able to run this far was simply because that great existence wanted to savor his fear, to watch his insignificant struggles and derive a little amusement from them.

What would happen next? Would he be turned into stone, left in the depths of the forest where no human ever trod, to spend an endless, lonely eternity, unable to see or hear, trapped in nothing but darkness?

Or perhaps, would he be cast into a purgatory specifically designed to punish sinners, suffering every imaginable torment, longing for death but unable to find it, until the great god occasionally felt a flicker of mercy?

Or maybe, would he be crushed entirely, body and soul, to become material for crafting magic items? Soon, would his screaming face be frozen onto the blade of a knife or the head of an axe?

Mad terror made Burke gasp for air. Due to his unbridled sprinting, his stamina had reached its limit, and white foam spilled from his nostrils and mouth. Yet, he had no intention of stopping, still running for his life.

At some point, his gaze became unfocused, his steps grew unsteady, and the expression on his face turned dull.

He could no longer see the scenery around him, nor could he hear the sounds of the world, but he continued to run, only slower and slower, until finally, he could run no more and collapsed to the ground.

He seemed to want to try one last time, his body struggling to crawl forward a few steps, before he let out a burst of crazed laughter.

"He is here! He has come to punish me!"

These were the final words left in the mortal realm by the old villain who had committed countless sins from the Northern Wastelands to the Four Northwest Towns, who had orchestrated the formation of a bandit group that stopped at nothing, and who had left behind a long record of terror.

Then, amidst extreme fear and exhaustion, in despair and madness, he drew his final breath.

As his soul drifted upward, an invisible force seized it and cast it into a nearby mass of black mist.

Within that black mist, there were already many crazed souls, screaming and laughing by turns.

"Look, the one who slipped through the net has also been dealt with," Sui Xiong said to the stunned Gerald.

The sun gradually rose, and viewed from high above, the tracks of "Accountant" Burke's flight formed a perfect circle.

Beginning at that clearing and ending at that same clearing, one large circle.