In the pitch-black private room, Mark Johnson lay utterly unable to move. A faint sliver of light seeped through the gap in the heavy curtains. His hands and feet were bound, and two Anti-Magic Nails had been driven into his chest, leaving him unable to use magic at all and plunged into a state of weakness unlike anything he had ever experienced. His heart was filled with despair and bitterness.
He never would have imagined that, while assassinating the target of his mission last night, he would be interrupted by a white-bearded old man who had appeared out of nowhere, countless terrifying magic runes swirling around him. Before Mark even saw the man make a move, he had fallen unconscious and become his captive. Then, that morning, a group of Holy Radiance Sect paladins from the Empire had taken him to a church and placed him under guard.
Yet before the terrifying interrogation he had expected could even begin, he and his captured companions had been led out like a flock of lambs waiting for slaughter by those damned fanatics.
At first, he had assumed the sect intended to torture information out of them.
But after the Anti-Magic restraints were removed and his vision finally returned, he saw a terrifying figure he absolutely had not wanted to encounter during this infiltration mission.
The Empire's Hellwolf King—John Maslow!
In truth, that title had only recently begun circulating within the Allied Forces.
Its earliest source was impossible to verify, but every level of the Allied Forces, from the upper ranks to the middle ranks, and even members like them who considered themselves sweepers, recognized the title as fitting.
After all, before this, there had been the Empire's Fox, the Empire's Demon General, the Empire's Mad Tiger, and even the Empire Sea Dragon,