Chapter 1541 - 974: Unexpected Orders

Chapter 1541: Chapter 974: Unexpected Orders

As the Captain of this squad.

He may not be tall, but he is exceptionally astute.

Wearing a metal mask that covers half of his face and nose.

His revealed eyes shimmer with a cold, eerie green glow in the dim light—a dominant feature of a certain demonic lineage.

He squatted down, letting his fingertips brush over a nearly invisible layer of ash on the ground.

"Found it. Fresh ’ash footprints’, and... a faint echo of blasphemous prayers. They just left not long ago, direction... northeast fork. Prepare for battle, stay alert."

The Captain’s command was like a splash of cold water, instantly quelling all idle chatter and complaints.

The professional integrity of the Demon Hunter was ingrained in their very bones.

Sharp Claw’s eyes flashed a hint of eager red light, his body rapidly swelling and transforming amidst a crackle of bones and a dense dark mist.

In the blink of an eye, a fierce demonic wolf, nearly two meters shoulder-high with fur as sleek as black satin and fangs bared, replaced his position, a threatening low growl rumbling from his throat.

Almost the moment the demonic wolf formed, the dozing figure blurred and flattened bizarrely, flowing silently like melting into the heavy shadow beneath the Wolf, merging perfectly.

This is his Shadow Demon innate ability—[Shadow Attachment].

Meanwhile, Nightingale leapt lightly, her body rapidly contracting and transforming mid-air.

Amidst a slight membranous sound, she became a dark purple Abyss Bat with a nearly meter-wide wingspan, perching steadily on the thick fur of the Wolf’s neck, inverted hanging.

"Rock, follow me!"

Shadowcaller whispered low, his figure gliding like a specter first into the northeastern dark fork.

Rock responded with a low growl "Received!".

Heavy footsteps thumped, following closely.

The demon wolf—Sharp Claw, gave a brief howl, crouched and leapt, transforming into a black streak of lightning.

Carrying the shadow—Drowsy and the bat—Nightingale, skimming through the broken passageway at astonishing speed.

In an instant, they surpassed the Captain and Rock, heading straight for the source indicated by the residual evil energy.

When Shadowcaller and Rock rounded the last fallen stone pillar, reaching a relatively open, formerly Ratman Square sunken area, the battle was nearing its end.

The acrid smell of blood permeated the foul air.

Seven or eight cultists in tattered black robes, faces smeared with filthy symbols, lay in pools of blood.

Their bodies mostly mutilated, evidently by the demon wolf’s frenzied bites and Sharp Claw’s cuts.

The remaining three leader-like cultists were tightly bound to the ground by invisible shadow ropes, unable to move.

They struggled frantically, froth spewing from their mouths, uttering unintelligible screams:

"*&%￥#... the Abyss shall devour... flesh as offering... the great... mmm mmm mmm!"

One of the leaders was slapped on the mouth by the demon wolf’s claw, pushing the subsequent blasphemous words back along with only whimpers remaining.

Enough already, these damn cultists always look this brainless.

Nightingale reverted to human form, landing lightly, disgustedly kicking away a convulsing cultist corpse by her feet.

The "Silent Messenger" in her hand was still wafting faint smoke from its muzzle.

"A bunch of lunatics, pitifully weak power, their bodies’ evil energy seems like a self-jumbled cheap stock, not even counting as low tier demon blessing.

And they dare dream of summoning something? Ratman essence?"

Her tone was filled with disdain.

This was why he hated the Demon Hunter’s tasks like these now.

Although essentially it’s actually a good thing.

After all, with the end of the Evil God turmoil, the Four Gods have all distanced from the world, those damn Evil Gods can cause no more harm here.

Although many residual threats remain, under the Demon Hunter’s cleanup over the years, they’ve long been dealt with.

The remnants, now merely small fry, worthless existences.

Especially now with the world’s overall Power rising.

Those blessed mercenaries and adventurers, they’ve sworn their oaths.

Cultists can’t swear oaths.

This makes the cultists’ harm only able to cause chaos.

But difficult to track.

So to her, it was like merely running errands.

The demon wolf also turned back to human form, shaking his blood-soiled claws, with a touch of unsatisfied bloodthirstiness and more boredom on his face.

"No excitement. Tracking for days, just for a few minutes’ warm-up?"

He walked to the bound leader, gently kicking the opponent’s twisted face with his toe.

"Hey, any stronger comrades? Speak, and I’ll make it swift for you."

The only response was more frantic groans and hate-filled murky eyes.

Shadowcaller’s brow furrowed beneath the mask, quickly scanning the scene and captives.

Nightingale’s judgment was right; these cultists’ internal energy was mixed and weak, filled with self-destructive tendencies, the mad products of self-exploration or snatched fragments of Evil God’s residual knowledge, worthless.

He didn’t hesitate further, signaling to Rock.

Rock understood, expressionlessly raising his large-caliber "Demon Hunter II Type".

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Three crisp gunshots rang through the empty underground square, precisely ending the lives of the three frenzied leaders.

The specially crafted purification bullets burst into a small weak burst of holy light as they pierced through their heads, incinerating any remaining evil thoughts completely.

"Mission complete. Gather residual samples, prepare to withdraw."

Shadowcaller’s voice remained icy and steady, devoid of emotion.

This level of cleansing was already routine for them.

Sharp Claw muttered complaints as he used special containers to collect the filthy altar fragments and cultists’ blood samples.