Chapter 376: The Devil's Followers

The fundamental difference between a Mage and other Casters is study. Their Magic isn't just conjured out of thin air!

'How could a guy who made his name in Delusional Land, and has barely ever left it, have access to Magic of this level?'

Bishop Sred was filled with shock and doubt. The Spell-Invalidation Barrier he had deployed was a boon. 'Could it be that he also...? And thinking back to what he just said...'

"Where I learned it is none of your business," Ron said, flinging the Swift Sword in his other hand toward Sred. "Catch!"

"An attack like this could never hit me—urgh!"

The Half-Elf, who had dropped his pretense, turned ethereal again, easily dodging Ron's throw. However, before he could gloat, the sword reversed its point in mid-air and stabbed him in the heart from behind.

The Bishop struggled, trying to turn ethereal again, but this time, the boon from the hells had lost its effect. A viscous liquid that didn't look like human blood slowly trickled from the wound where the blade had pierced his chest. The Half-Elf looked down at the sword's tip, then turned his head in disbelief to look at the Half-Elf behind him.

"This... this is impossible. The Magic Potion—"

"A Siren's shriek is enough to grant Resurrection to the dead, let alone wake someone from a deep sleep?" Constance tilted her head slightly. Her ears were still ringing incessantly, but it wasn't enough to interfere with her delivering the fatal blow to the Half-Elf. "Where is our family's steward?! And where have you taken my father?!"

"You think I'll tell you?" Bishop Sred's face twisted. He gripped the tip of the sword protruding from his chest and, with a reverse grip, thrust a dagger backward. But Constance was no longer the person she once was. The Half-Elf easily dodged his sneak attack.

"Those two fools who don't know what's good for them... Haha, don't worry. Someone will avenge me!"

"You've offended the hells and the Molten Iron Barrier! You've disrupted the Holy War! You—"

No longer bound by the Spell-Invalidation Barrier, Ron sent him on his way with a Flaming Arrow. "That's enough rambling. Time to go to hell."

"If you really think Dispart will help you in good faith, then by all means, go find him."

Constance retrieved the blade and stared at the ashes scattered on the floor, her expression grave. "Mr. Ron, will we also end up... like this?"

After all, they'd had numerous dealings with the hells themselves.

"Making a deal is one thing; staking your soul on it is another," Ron said. He ignored Bishop Sred, who hadn't even left a full corpse behind, and walked to a bookshelf to activate a mechanism. "Among the people we know, the only one who might need to worry about that is Yelena."

"For now, let's see what your father and that steward were hiding."

Just as Ron expected, the mechanism vibrated, and a Secret Door appeared in the wall. The hidden room behind it was spotless, clearly cleaned on a regular basis. As Ron and Constance stepped into the secret room, Ron noticed a prominent and familiar symbol:

A Spiky Agate and a curved, horned crown!

"The Lord of Nine Hells. Should I be surprised?" Ron turned to Constance. "I remember you saying you'd seen this symbol before, back beneath the ruins of Green Swamp Town."

"You have a good memory." At this point, Constance no longer hid anything and admitted it freely. "My 'seeing' it was right here."

"So, you're one of the believers?"

The Half-Elf shook her head. "No, but my father is. I'm not sure about Sred the steward, but I imagine he must have been one for a long time, right?"

'So they worship Asmodis, the Lord of Nine Hells. No wonder the Bishop called them fools for not knowing their place as he died. Too bad for them that the man on the spot has more power than the emperor far away. Here, the followers of Dispart held more sway than the followers of his superior.'

Ron examined the contents of the secret room item by item. There was a great deal of knowledge about spices, including insights from other planes of existence. This might explain why Hendrix had been so successful.

"Making deals with devils never ends well," Constance sighed. She opened a hidden drawer where a Recording Stone lay silently. "Just as I thought."

"It seems Mr. Hendrix was prepared for this." Ron remembered how to use the device. After fiddling with it for a moment, the Magic Item began to operate.

But to the surprise of both Ron and Constance, the voice that came from it was not the spice merchant's. It was Sred the steward, speaking rapidly, every word and sentence pointing to a single location: the winery!

Sred's voice didn't last long. Soon, sounds of smashing, dragging, and angry shouts came from the Recording Stone. It sounded like the steward had been discovered and dragged away shortly after leaving the clue.

"Do you think they're still at the winery?" Ron asked, placing the stone back where he found it.

"Judging by their methods, they never even planned on letting us leave here alive," Constance mused. "So I don't think they would be that meticulous. My father, Sred the steward, and maybe even Uncle Daniel and the others could all be there."

"But I'm not sure if they would have been moved after the Religious Order realized something was wrong—"

"They won't be able to move them," Ron snorted, turning and walking briskly toward the exit. "Let's go meet up with Aive and the others!"

"Should we notify Quest and his group?" Constance asked, catching up to him. "I know you must have a way to contact them, right?"

"No need for them. We still have another card to play," Ron said with a snap of his fingers. Constance could only feel that something around them had changed, but not being a Caster, she couldn't observe any physical manifestation. "A deal is a two-way street. We can't be the only ones doing all the work."

While Ron and his group were gathering to set out, things were also growing chaotic at the winery on the other side of Rose City.

"Hurry, hurry!" Daniel laughed heartily as he watched the cultists, who had started to panic after perceiving that something was wrong outside. "Liya, look at them! Like a colony of ants!"

"You mean they look orderly, but fall into chaos at the first sign of trouble?" the Elf Longbowman chimed in, mercilessly mocking these people who called themselves champions of "justice" and "order." Both of them were covered in wounds, but their spirits were still high.

"I say, can you two quiet down a little?" Hendrix's cage was next to the husband and wife, who were tied back-to-back. Because of his build, he couldn't be bound with ropes and was simply locked in the cage, which ironically gave him more room to move than Daniel and Liya. "Watch out, or they'll bring the whips out again!"

"Just a bunch of lackeys. Let them do what they want!" Liya spat dismissively. "If they've got the guts, they can just kill me! Let's see what's really underneath those sanctimonious masks!"

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP. Before Liya's voice had faded, the sound of applause rang out abruptly. A middle-aged man in a bright red Bishop's Robe approached the Elf Longbowman with a malicious smile. "Well said, Lady Liya. We are all just a bunch of sanctimonious scum. But you, an Elf who harbored a murderous maniac—how are you any better than us?"

"It's been so long, and your cook still hasn't come back. He must have abandoned you."

"Why not give up on these unrealistic fantasies and cooperate with us? That way, we'll have a reason to protect you, and you can be reunited with your daughter. Isn't that right?"