"That was close."
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"It's only a Four-winged Angel, a Tier 5 just like me. It seems this isn't the main battlefield; I haven't run into any of those Six-Winged or even Eight-Winged freaks."
He felt a slight sense of relief. Tier 5 against Tier 5—with the physical strength of the werewolves and their numerical advantage, they could still hold the city walls.
However, he was now more worried about the satyr hiding in the shadows.
"What if that satyr stabs us in the back while we're in the heat of battle with the angels?"
Dante's heart was filled with unease.
But then he reconsidered.
"Probably not, right? A monster like him, reeking of evil, must also be a thorn in the side of the Church of Light. If the angels win, he won't be able to escape either. Maybe he'll even help us deal with them?"
Just as he was thinking this and preparing to find Thomas to discuss a strategy, he turned his head.
"Where did he go?"
The warlock Thomas, who should have been standing right beside him, was now nowhere to be seen.
"Dammit!"
Dante cursed out loud in rage.
"That useless warlock. Usually so arrogant, but he's as cowardly as a rabbit when he sees an angel, running faster than anyone!"
In the direction of the North Gate of Yonvik.
A dark figure was sprinting at high speed, hugging the base of the walls.
"Damn that Lucas."
Thomas cursed frantically in his heart as he ran.
"He said we were just coming to deal with a satyr. What's the deal with the Church of Light besieging the city? This is pushing me into a fire pit!"
"The angel already shattered my Sky Curtain. How the hell am I supposed to fight?"
He wasn't truly a coward, but as a wizard specializing in black magic, he was naturally countered by Light-attribute angels of the same tier.
Their Holy Light came with the triple effects of purification, burning, and mana-breaking. Cutting him down would be like slicing vegetables.
His curses would be purified before they even got close. How could he fight? Go up there just to die?
"Where there's life, there's hope. I'm slipping away first."
Seeing the North Gate within reach, Thomas felt a surge of joy.
Once he was out of the city and dove into the deep forests, he would be as free as a fish in the ocean.
However.
Just as he was about to rush out of the gate's tunnel, he slammed on the brakes.
Thomas's pupils constricted violently, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
In the center of the North Gate's massive arched tunnel, a figure wearing a Tailcoat and holding a Gentleman's Cane stood quietly, as if he had been waiting for a long time.
That hideous goat head turned slowly, and a pair of yellow vertical pupils looked at him mockingly.
"G-satyr..."
Thomas's voice cracked, and a chill more terrifying than facing an angel instantly rose within him.
"In such a hurry, where are you headed?"
Seeing the slowly approaching satyr, the fear in Thomas's eyes instantly transformed into a desperate, murderous intent.
"Since you won't let me leave, then let's die together!"
He abruptly raised the Black Staff in his hand, and the mana he had been accumulating surged wildly.
"Dark Curse!"
Buzz!
The black gemstone at the tip of the staff suddenly cracked, and a dense cloud of black energy erupted.
This energy carried a foul stench that could corrode the soul, transforming into a howling black tornado. Accompanied by the wails of countless vengeful spirits, it lunged straight for the satyr's face.
This was Thomas's trump card, a Tier 5 Peak curse. Even a Werewolf Commander of the same tier would lose a layer of skin if they took it head-on.
"A nice snack."
Facing a curse attack that could instantly dissolve a Tier 4 into bloody water, the satyr didn't dodge. Instead, he stopped in his tracks.
Then, he slightly opened his mouth, which didn't look particularly large.
Whoosh!
A strange suction force was generated out of thin air.
The aggressive black tornado seemed to have met its natural predator. The moment it neared the satyr's mouth, it became as docile as a small stream and was swallowed whole into his stomach in a single breath.
*Burp.*
The satyr even let out a satisfied burp, extending his crimson tongue to lick his lips.
"The flavor is a bit bland, but it'll do to fill the stomach."
"T-This... this..."
Thomas was completely dumbfounded.
His strongest curse was actually... eaten?
This was a top-tier curse that even Holy Water could only purify slowly. What on earth was this guy?
Seeing the unharmed satyr slowly approaching with an unsatisfied look, Thomas's psychological defenses collapsed. His legs gave out, and he knelt directly on the ground.
"Don't... don't kill me! Please, don't kill me!"
Tears and snot flowed down his face; he no longer had an ounce of the dignity of a Fifth-Tier Warlock.
Swish!
Thomas felt a blur before his eyes, and the entire world instantly fell into endless darkness.
His body went limp and collapsed, his eyes wide open, his breath gone.
At that moment, a voice suddenly rang out in the satyr's mind.
[The mission in Yonvik is over. Retreat immediately and head deeper into the Werewolf territory to other cities. Continue to spread panic.]
It was a direct order from Randy.
"Yes, Chief."
The satyr immediately responded respectfully in his mind.
Now that his reputation had been established and the seeds of fear had been sown, there was indeed no need to stay stuck in one city.
Furthermore, that group of angels had arrived from the south. Although he didn't fear them, there was no need to go head-to-head with the top-tier forces of this world right now.
On the southern city wall.
"There's movement over there."
Dante had been keeping an eye on the north. He was all too familiar with that black energy that had just erupted; that old man Thomas was definitely fighting for his life.
"That bastard Thomas really did try to run, but it looks like he was intercepted by the satyr."
Dante's eyes flickered as he shouted to a trusted Werewolf subordinate beside him.
"You, go to the North Gate immediately and check it out. I want to know who won. If Thomas is dead, bring his staff back to me!"
"Yes, Lord!"
The Werewolf didn't dare to delay and sprinted toward the north.
High in the sky.
The Angel Legion had an excellent field of vision and saw everything that happened at the North Gate.
"Sister, look over there."
Michaela pointed toward the North Gate, her voice crisp.
"That's the source of the evil aura from earlier."
The five Four-winged Angels cast their gazes over simultaneously.
They clearly saw the goat-headed monster in the Tailcoat standing next to a human corpse—the very body of the warlock who had just tried to flee.
"He killed that warlock?"
Muriel's eyebrows rose slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes.
At this moment, the satyr, who was about to leave the city, keenly sensed the gaze from the sky.
He stopped, turned around slowly, and looked up. Across a distance of several thousand meters, he flashed a smile at the angels in the air.
Then, he put his top hat back on, turned, and strode out of the North Gate, quickly disappearing into the end of the wilderness.
Michaela gripped her Holy Sword tightly.
"Sister, should we go after him?"
Muriel stopped her and shook her head.
"Since the other party has already left, there's no need to worry about him. Besides, we should thank him for helping us solve a problem."
"If that warlock had been allowed to escape, there's no telling how many innocent lives he would have harmed with black magic in the future."
Muriel's gaze softened.
In the doctrines of the Church of Light, power itself has no attribute; only the heart that uses it distinguishes between good and evil.
Although that satyr's aura was evil, he killed an atrocious warlock and chose to retreat proactively when facing them, showing no intent to attack.
That being the case, the priority was to purify this werewolf city filled with sin and slaughter, rather than chasing a temporarily unknown existence.
This is precisely why the Church of Light can stand at the peak of the continent. Whether it be the Holy Angels symbolizing purity or the Fallen Angels who wield the power of darkness, although their philosophies differ within the Church, they always stand united when it comes to the major principles of protecting the weak and opposing evil.
They always believed that fighting for the weak who cannot resist is the true righteous path.
This was also the point that Randy and the others admired most about this faction after gathering intelligence.
In this cruel Western Fantasy World, the Church of Light is like a lighthouse, standing alone against the frantic attacks of many dark forces, including more than half of the werewolves, and guarding the last living space for weak creatures.
"Since that biggest unstable factor has left..."
Muriel withdrew her gaze and looked down at Yonvik, raising the Holy Sword in her hand high.
"Sisters, prepare for purification!"
Hum!
At her command, the wings of the five Four-winged Angels burst into dazzling light simultaneously.
Five golden pillars of light, as scorching as the blazing sun, converged in the air, transforming into a miniature sun that slowly pressed down toward the city walls.
"Damn it!"
Dante, on the city wall, was suffocated by this terrifying pressure.
Looking at his werewolf subordinates who were still dazed or even weak in the knees from fear, he kicked one over in anger.
"What the hell are you all standing around for? Waiting to be roasted alive?"
"Get everyone up here! Anyone who doesn't want to die, defend the city."
"Get up here, now! If the angels break into the city, everyone dies!"
Under his roars and death threats, the werewolves finally snapped out of their fear.
Countless werewolves, dragged from their houses within the city, were driven onto the city walls. Though their eyes were full of despair, driven by the desire to survive, they still picked up their weapons.
And on the other side of the sky...
"For the Light!"
Over a thousand Two-winged Angels shouted in unison, their snow-white wings spreading in the air like countless snowflakes gathering into a storm.
They quickly assembled in front of the five Four-winged Angels. As the light grew more dazzling, the entire sky was dyed a holy platinum gold.
"Follow me and end this evil."
Muriel's raised Holy Sword swung down sharply, its edge pointing directly at the filthy city below.
Swish, swish, swish!
All the angels pointed their Holy Swords downward, their wings flapping violently as they turned into streaks of golden light. Enveloped in the flames of purification, they dove downward like a divine punishment.
"Damn it."
Standing on the city wall, Dante watched the overwhelming rain of golden light. His eyes instantly became bloodshot, and his wolf-like ferocity erupted completely at this moment.
"You really think we're easy targets, don't you?"
"Everyone, use Berserk! We must hold this city even if we die."
Roar, roar, roar!
Accompanied by one roar after another, thousands of werewolves on the city wall activated Berserk simultaneously.
Their bodies expanded at a visible rate, muscles tearing through their leather armor. Their black fur stood up like steel needles, and their already sharp claws and fangs glinted with a heart-palpitating cold light.
"Kill!"
Just as the first wave of angels dove down, Dante stepped heavily on the battlement.
Boom!
The hard stone bricks shattered instantly. Aided by this massive recoil, Dante shot up like a black cannonball, actually going against the flow and charging straight toward the Commander Muriel in the air.
"You go deal with the rest; I'll handle him."
Muriel snorted coldly and gave orders to the sisters beside her.
"Alright, be careful, Sister."
Michaela nodded, her gaze instantly locking onto a Rank 5 Werewolf who was attempting to sneak attack an ordinary angel. With a flourish of her Holy Sword, she turned into a golden rainbow and charged over.
High-altitude battlefield.
"Die!"
The moment Dante flew up, his claws, enveloped in dense Dark Battle Qi, clawed fiercely toward Muriel's throat.
"Judgment!"
Muriel's expression remained unchanged. Her Holy Sword unsheathed instantly, meeting him with dazzling holy light.
Clang!!
The sound of clashing metal echoed through the clouds, and a terrifying energy surge erupted between the two, forming a visible shockwave.
The two separated immediately upon contact, both flying backward dozens of meters.
Dante stabilized himself and hovered in the air. Shaking his somewhat numb palms, he grinned hideously.
"Muriel, it seems you're not up to it. You'd better call your brother. After all, he's a Fallen Angel, and his strength is much greater than yours. This soft holy light of yours isn't even enough to tickle me."
"I don't need my brother to step in; I can kill you just the same."
Muriel responded indifferently, slowly raising her Holy Sword.
Hum!
As she chanted, a pillar of pure holy light descended from the sky, enveloping her and forming a phantom set of light armor.
At the same time, her Holy Sword burst with even more blinding white light, as if plated with a layer of flowing liquid radiance.
[Holy Light Enchantment: Demon Breaking]
Feeling the heart-palpitating aura emanating from the Holy Sword, Dante's expression changed.
If it were just a normal physical attack, he wouldn't even fear a Holy Sword.
But now, the sword was imbued with dense Demon-Breaking Holy Light. If he were pricked even slightly, that energy specifically designed to counter dark creatures would seep into his body and frantically destroy his vitality.
To make matters worse, it was currently noon, with the blazing sun high in the sky.
"Damn it, if it were night, I could suppress her using the power of the moonlight. But now..."
Dante glanced down and saw that the werewolf troops were already retreating steadily under the holy light suppression of the angel legion, unable to provide him with any support at all.
Meanwhile, the angels opposite him were bathed in sunlight, their divine power flowing incessantly, making them fight more courageously as the battle progressed.
"I must end this quickly."
Muriel gave him no time to think. With a flap of her wings, she turned into a streak of golden lightning and lunged with her sword.
"I'll give it my all."
Dante didn't dare take the hit directly and could only dodge clumsily, while simultaneously pulling a massive Two-handed Greatsword from behind his back.
Since his physical body was countered, he would fight with a weapon.
The battlefield below.
"You evil creatures, die!"
Michaela shouted delicately, her Holy Sword swinging like a violent storm.
Opposite her, that Fifth-Order Werewolf Commander was being beaten miserably.
Puchi! Puchi!
Every sword strike that landed on him left a charred black wound.
That was the Holy Light of Demon Breaking burning his flesh and Dark Battle Qi.
"Damn it, the energy circulation is no longer smooth..."
The Werewolf Commander discovered in horror that as his wounds increased, the power within his body felt as if it were being sealed by countless shackles, making it increasingly difficult to mobilize.
"It's over."
Michaela seized the moment of her opponent's sluggish movement, her figure gliding past like a swallow.
Shua!
A golden sword light flashed.
The Werewolf Commander's massive head soared into the sky; before the blood from his neck could even spray, it was instantly evaporated by the Holy Flames erupting from the Holy Sword.
"Next."
Michaela shook the filth off the Holy Sword, her eyes burning like torches as she charged toward the other end of the battlefield once more.
In the air, Dante was ultimately outnumbered and suppressed to the extreme by the environment.
Just as he was distracted by the disastrous situation below, Muriel captured that slight opening.
"Judgement of Light!"
Puchi!
The Holy Sword, blazing with raging Holy Flames, accurately pierced Dante's chest, directly skewering his heart.
"Ah!"
Dante let out a shrill scream.
The terrifying Holy Flames instantly centered on the wound and spread wildly across his entire body.
In just a few seconds, this once-arrogant Werewolf City Lord turned into a massive fireball.
Boom!
The charred corpse fell from the sky, crashing heavily onto the city walls and shattering into pieces.
"The City Lord is dead!"
"Run!"
With Dante's fall, the remaining werewolves completely collapsed, throwing down their armor and weapons in an attempt to flee.
But under the encirclement of the Angel Legion, this was a war of annihilation with no suspense.
After the battle, atop the city walls.
The smoke cleared, and golden banners were planted in every corner of Yonvik.
The sisters Muriel and Michaela stood before a pile of ruins, their Holy Swords pointed at the last werewolf prisoner kneeling on the ground and trembling.
"Speak."
Muriel asked coldly.
"What's the deal with that goat-headed man?"
Upon hearing the words 'goat-headed man', the werewolf shuddered violently, as if remembering something more terrifying than death.
"Don't kill me, I'll talk, I'll talk."
The werewolf said while trembling.
"That satyr came here a few days ago; he's simply a demon. At first, he hunted werewolves frantically with extremely cruel methods. Later... later, for some reason, he stopped killing and instead forced us to play those paranormal Death Games."
"Many people who came out of the games had complete mental breakdowns and killed each other. Now the city is filled with terrifying legends about him; everyone has been driven mad with fear."
"Hunting werewolves? Toying with human hearts?"
Michaela and her sister exchanged a glance, both seeing the confusion in each other's eyes.
"There actually exists someone who specifically hunts werewolves?"
Shua!
Muriel flicked her wrist, a sword light flashed, and she gave this werewolf a quick death.
"Sister, who exactly is this satyr? I've never heard of such a character before."
Michaela sheathed her Holy Sword, her brow slightly furrowed.
Muriel pondered for a moment and nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, since the other party's purpose is hunting evil, in a sense, he shares a common goal with us."
She looked toward the distant, cloudy sky and said in a low voice.
"Perhaps he is like our brothers, feeling that pure light is no longer enough to protect the world, so he chose to feed the devil with his body, using evil power to perform the act of protection, perhaps even more extremely."
"So that's how it is..."
Michaela nodded with half-understanding.
"Then let's start purging the city. Once the news of this place being conquered is sent back, Brother and the others should be bringing the main force to pressure the Werewolf Royal Court. Otherwise, those beasts' plan to join forces with the Vampire Duke to attack the Elf Race will succeed."
"Mhm."
Muriel nodded, but her gaze still lingered for a long time in the direction the satyr had departed.
"If only we could recruit that satyr too..."
She sighed inwardly.
A powerhouse capable of single-handedly driving an entire city to mental breakdown would definitely be a great help if he could be used by the Light.
But that was just wishful thinking; after all, his actions were weird, and whether he truly only kills evil remains to be seen.
On the wilderness.
The satyr, who was rushing at high speed, suddenly stopped.
He looked back at the now invisible Yonvik and felt the werewolf aura completely vanish.
"Chief, the Yonvik battlefield has ended."
The satyr reported in his mind.
"Judging by the aura fluctuations, the Church of Light should have won a total victory. That Werewolf City Lord is likely completely dead."
"Understood."
Randy's steady voice came through.
"Good job. Your current task is to continue improving your strength, absorbing emotions to break through to the Fifth-Order as soon as possible."
"By the way, change your route and head toward the cities near the Malbic Sea."
"The Abyssal Condenser is there."
Randy explained.
"The commotion when the Abyssal Condenser emerges won't be small; it should attract many factions and even powerhouses to investigate. That kind of chaotic scene will allow you to absorb high-quality emotions of fear and despair, making it the best place to level up."
"Understood, Chief."
A flash of excitement crossed the satyr's eyes.
After ending the communication, he adjusted his direction and turned into an afterimage, speeding toward the distant Malbic Sea.
The Malbic Sea.
On the surging sea surface, an Abyssal Condenser as massive as an island floated quietly, its entire body emitting a heart-palpitating abyssal aura.
On a reef not far from it, a Fifth-Order Zombie tilted its head; that was the clone controlled by Alex.
"Brother Steve, shall I begin?"
Alex's voice came through the mental connection, carrying a hint of eagerness.
Steve was controlling the Abyssal Condenser and was about to nod in agreement when the long-awaited mechanical system notification sound suddenly rang in his mind.
[Paranormal World Quest Completed]
[Quest rewards have been issued to the system space]
[1. Paranormal Creature Cultivation Roadmap]
[2. Neural Potential Development Serum Full Formula Set]
[Western Fantasy World Quest Completed: Rise of the Divine Cult]
[Quest rewards have been issued]
[1. Basic Medical Pod Blueprint]
[2. Moonlight Mithril Forging Technique]
Immediately following, a new quest panel unfolded before his eyes.
[New Quest Issued]
[World: Paranormal World]
[Objective: Collect twenty S-grade or higher paranormal cores]
[Reward:]
[1. Fifth-Order Gene Serum]
[2. One SS-Peak paranormal core (random attribute)]
[World: Fantasy World]
[Objective: Huafang Divine Cult believer count reaches one million]
[Reward:]
[1. Third-Order Gene Serum Full Formula Set]
[2. Red-Hot Crystal Forging Technique (can be combined with Moonlight Mithril for the Iron Golem to absorb)]