Chapter 115: All Fear Stems from Insufficient Firepower

The attack came too suddenly. With eight guns pointed at him simultaneously, Wayne was so startled that he slammed the accelerator and immediately put on his Death Knight disguise. Amid the barrage of bullets and erupting flames, he stepped out of the car, still reeling from the sudden turn of events.

His murderous eyes locked onto the contract killers. They should be ready for death after seeing the Death Knight.

Whoosh!

Two cars approached from the front and the back, screeching to a halt ten meters away. The two drivers who had staged a car accident stared at the Death Knight, both looking terrified.

They had their pistols, but neither shooting nor not shooting seemed right.

“So I’m the target...” Wayne muttered, raising both hands and spreading Death energy like tentacles. Gunshots erupted, and the scene dissolved into chaos. The grey tentacles covered an enormous area and enveloped both cars and the contract killers on both sides of the highway, instantly withering human flesh into ashes at the moment of contact.

Those who were slower in running away had the fortune of watching their companions turn into skeletons before meeting the same fate. The skeletons continued the forward momentum, falling forward and crumbling into ash as soon as they hit the ground.

Wayne stood in the center of the chaos, impervious to the bullets hitting his body.

While the Death Knight disguise took a lot from him, it was incredibly useful. The undead body alone could nullify most magic. And ordinary firearms were no different from a fire iron. With a simple wave of his hand, he reduced the guns to scrap.

Having eliminated the enemies on both sides, he wielded his death energy to extinguish his wrecked car. He was a sentimental person. He had inherited the car from Sidney, owning it for one month and ten days. During that period, Veryl had driven Kristen to and from school multiple times in the car.

It was nothing special, but it was his car. Its sacrifice shouldn’t be in vain. Someone had to pay.

He turned toward the two cars wrapped in death energy. With black mist rising from his body, he stalked toward the two drivers with murderous intent, scaring them witless.

All fear stemmed from insufficient firepower. The pistols they had were hardly enough to give them any sense of security. One opened his car door and, braving Death’s terrifying corrosive power, pulled the trigger at the approaching armored skeleton.

The bullets hit the dense grey mist, withered away by the Death energy before it could touch Wayne, clanging against the black armor without leaving even a scratch.

Under the assailant’s despairing gaze, Wayne reached out to grab his face and lifted him off the ground. “Who? Who sent you?”

The man kicked wildly in the air. He wanted to say something, but could only make muffled pleas.

“Not bad. You’re a tough one. I’m starting to like you.”

Wayne turned to the other car. The grey mist in his palm dispersed, and the killer he had been holding up transformed from a healthy man to a withered mummy, crumbling to dust and scattering in the wind.

The incredible demonstration of power shattered the other killer’s spirit. He opened the car door and tossed away his pistol, wailing and begging Wayne for another chance. Ignoring the plea, Wayne sent him flying into another car with a kick.

Giving the killer another chance? Who would give the Death Knight a chance? Each of them only had one life. The contract killers should have the courage to face death after entering their line of work.

“Look into my eyes and tell me. Who sent you?”

“Will you spare me if I tell you?” The killer instinctively looked up. Making eye contact with the Death Knight from such a close distance left him paler than the skeleton.

“Of course. I promise to spare you.”

“Our boss. I don’t know who he is, only that he can pull a lot of strings. He supplies us with weapons and has us do his bidding. It’s been two years now. I’ve never seen him...”

The killer rambled on and on incomprehensibly. Still, Wayne picked up on several important pieces of information: the small group of contract killers had a benefactor and boss, who ordered them to set up an ambush on the highway with a rough description of Wayne and even his license plate number.

“I’ve told you everything.” The killer looked at Wayne while trembling. He had promised to let him go.

“Then go.”

The killer thanked him repeatedly like a pardoned criminal. Then, glancing at the forest on the side of the road, he charged headfirst into the grey mist.

His skeleton fell to the ground and turned into scattered sand after two steps.

“Why the rush? I haven’t even opened a door for you!”

Wayne dispelled his disguise and dispersed the Death aura permeating the area. Oh, he hadn’t broken his promise. He was willing to spare the killer, only the man ran too fast and crashed headfirst into Death’s embrace.

“Throwing yourself at the goddess? Even I only dare to latch onto her thigh.”

Wayne picked up a pistol from the ground and looked around. Tearing the license plate off his wrecked car, he jumped onto one of the cars in the staged accident and drove toward Cambrook City.

Not many knew he was returning to Londan. Veryl would never betray him. Among the Church of Nature, Darcy and Ottilia both had motives. The former might want to take him out to grab power, while the latter could be angry that he had left her high and dry after flirting with her like a real bastard.

He nodded to himself and dismissed the two guesses. Bishop Keith’s face flashed into his mind instead. “He’s too suspicious.”

Keith had been in a poor state today. Wayne hadn’t thought much of it at the time. At the end of the day, Keith was the leader of a cathedral and should be able to protect himself by pulling treasure from the warehouse. Thinking about it now, though, he had most likely been enthralled.

“You’re a clergyman. If you can’t beat a demon, fine, but you can’t even handle a demon’s minion...”

Wayne didn’t even know where to begin to roast the Bishop. For the sake of the Church of Heavenly Father’s reputation, he would blame the Windsor royal family. If the royals hadn’t suppressed the church so hard, leaving only an archbishop in the kingdom, the church wouldn’t have suffered from such a talent drought that even a demon’s lackey could stomp over them.

Following the line of thought, Wayne thought of Dean Julian and the scholars of the theology college who were visiting the cathedral. If he was right, they had to have all become the demon’s puppets. To make a bolder guess, the summoning ritual for the Thousand-Eyed Demon could already be underway.

He hoped he could make it in time!

“Keith was behaving particularly strangely today. It happened several times before my eyes, but I didn’t realize...”

He stepped on the accelerator. Hindsight was twenty-twenty, and the more he thought about what happened, the more regret he felt. He slapped himself.

I’ve wanted to hit you for a while!

Due to his tendency to go easy on himself, though, the slap was more like a pat.

Half an hour later, the car reached the university town. The back and forth had wasted so much time that it was already five in the afternoon. He would miss the hot pot that Veryl had said he would prepare.

Wayne scowled. Time waited for no one. The demon could descend at any moment. Instead of heading to the Church of Nature’s base, he made it straight to Saint Dominic’s Cathedral with the pistol he just picked up.

***

Saint Dominic’s Cathedral.

Bishop Keith was confessing before the cross. Since he became enthralled by Sigma, he would occasionally fall into a confused state. He didn’t know why he was confessing, only that he should. Sigma had controlled his thoughts, but couldn’t completely twist his will. In comparison, the group from the theology college had already become the demon’s most loyal followers.

“Bishop Keith, what are you confessing about?”

Wayne strode into the cathedral, stopping five meters from Keith.

Keith shuddered before turning to him in surprise. “Mr. Wayne, why are you... back?”

“I encountered a car accident on the road, and a few rude fellows tried to scam me,” Wayne said coldly. “I got angry and killed them all. For those grave sins, I came to the cathedral to confess to the Heavenly Father, hoping He would forgive me.”

Keith’s eyes flickered as he stammered. His terrible acting cemented Wayne’s suspicion. He raised an eyebrow. “Bishop Keith, could you take me to the warehouse? There are too many people here, and I have something to ask you about.”

Keith nodded and led the way, almost going into a jog. Wayne quickly caught up. He had to remind Keith again to sign his name before entering the warehouse.

Wayne stood in the first section instead of venturing further inside. This area displayed numerous sculptures and replicas of antique knight armor. He sniffed. He hadn’t smelled anything strange along the way, which relaxed his nerves slightly.

There was still time. The summoning ritual for the demon hadn’t begun yet, it seemed.

“Bishop Keith, where is the statue of the Thousand-Eyed Demon? What are your thoughts on demonic summoning rituals?” Wayne took several steps toward Keith, raising his gun. “Personally, I believe it’ll be too brazenly insulting to hold such a ritual inside a cathedral, so the theology college will be a good location.”

“Mr. Wayne, you’re overreacting. Please put the gun away.”

Keith’s demeanor changed dramatically, his panic replaced by a calm composure. He pulled out his sacred tome with a smile and told Wayne not to provoke a clergyman inside a cathedral.

“So you know this is a cathedral!”

Wayne met Keith’s eyes and suddenly raised his hand to fire two shots. The bullets strayed to the sides as the Bishop remained unmoving, showing no intention of dodging.

“Trying to trick me into killing a bishop of the Church of Heavenly Father? I’m not letting things go your way.”

Wayne holstered his pistol and lunged at Keith with a sudden burst of speed, so fast that he left a faint afterimage. Keith failed to hit his target with a string of spells, and when he realized it, a fist was already colliding with his face. Blood gushed out of his nose and mouth as he got knocked down violently, the back of his head hitting the wall hard.

The wall cracked audibly. Wayne didn’t attack again. He took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his knuckles, calmly observing Keith’s expression. He shook his head regretfully when he saw the bloodthirsty look on the Bishop’s face.

The memory-recovering technique was supposed to be effective against mental control, including hypnosis and illusion magic. Why wasn’t it working here? Should he try a different punching stance?

Urgent footsteps echoed. He turned to see nearly twenty clergy members, each carrying their sacred tomes and crosses. Without a word, they began reciting scriptures in unison, casting holy light magic. Their voices came together in a chorus, gradually gathering sacred power.

Wayne raised his hand and fired. The bullet struck the barrier of light, instantly slowing until its momentum ran out, and it fell to the ground. He didn’t try using his fists. His eyes blazed with green light, and plants in the rear garden grew rapidly. Roots and vines burst out of the ground, wrapping around the clergy members to bind them like rice dumplings and thrusting down their throats to interrupt their spellcasting.

The barrier dissipated instantly as countless vines surged into the warehouse, tying up the dazed Bishop Keith.

Ganging up on a mage of the Church of Nature in a garden? His opponents were either incredibly bold or had been collectively hit with an intelligence debuff.

“Come on out. I can smell your stench back in Londan.” Wayne looked toward the corner of the corridor. “Of course, you can keep hiding...”

He smirked with amusement. “Guess if I’ve called Londan to notify the Church of Heavenly Father there that someone’s preparing a summoning ritual for an evil god in hell.”

From the corner, Sigma emerged in a black robe, his face obscured. “Respected Archdeacon, I don’t intend to offend the Church of Nature...”

Boom!

Searing flames roared, amplified by the howling gale into a blazing storm. Sigma, with his legs entangled by vines, could not dodge in time. He could only watch as the flames engulfed the corridor, rolling toward him with destructive force.

Rumble!

Outside the cathedral, pedestrians passing by heard a tremendous explosion, followed by billowing black smoke rising from inside the cathedral. Something seemed to have exploded.

The corridor before the warehouse was in ruins. Thick smoke spread everywhere, and rubble was scattered about. The wall facing the warehouse was scorched black and had mostly collapsed. Amid the heated air, Sigma remained calm and composed. He raised his hand and looked at his robe with amazement, marveling at the Holy Shroud’s extraordinary property. With the artifact’s protection, elemental magic couldn’t harm him the slightest.

Wayne stared at his uninjured enemy in surprise. After a moment of silence, he made another shot.

A sneak attack!

Sigma only had the time to raise his arm. Before he could cast a spell with his splayed hand, the bullet pierced through his palm and hit him in his face. Instantly, the constantly shifting face started convulsing violently.

The enemy didn’t fall. Wayne continued to pull the trigger, and Sigma’s face continued to shift. With each shot, a face would flicker and vanish. Once Wayne had emptied his magazine, Sigma stood unharmed with only a few bullets at his feet. Wayne flicked his wrist, stirring up a storm and infusing parasitic spores into every corner of the back garden.

Mushrooms emerged all over Sigma’s body, using it as their host and drawing nutrients from his vitality for their growth. Then the mushrooms released even more spores for a second and a third attack. A massive amount of tiny spores were inhaled into his body, causing his chest and abdomen to swell dramatically before the fungi burst out of his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes.

Soon, a tree-person covered in fungi came into being.

Wayne frowned silently. Under his gaze, Sigma snapped his fingers and ignited his body. He appeared entirely unharmed once more as he stepped forward.

Such a strange, unkillable body! Or rather than unkillable, it seemed more like the enemy had died and returned to life with full health every time.

“Would you answer a question for me, Archdeacon?” Sigma politely asked, facing Wayne with his blurry face. “If we had exchanged names on the day we were born, would our positions be reversed today? Would you have become me, standing in my shoes?”

What, getting philosophical now?

Wayne sneered and strode toward Sigma. “I’m happy with my name. As for you, not even changing your name ten thousand times would prevent your fated death today.”

He raised his fist when they were five steps apart.

“Wrong answer.”

Sigma smiled. Innumerable faces appeared on his head, bursting out all of a sudden and lunging at Wayne. Each of the faces had its own thoughts, independent yet an integral part of the whole. They called out in unison for Wayne to join the collective and their rebirth.

Countless thoughts overlapped in an orderly yet utterly chaotic fashion. The piercing noises were maddening, forcing one to involuntarily join in the ruckus and shouts. When Wayne’s fist stopped, Sigma smiled wider. Another self was thus born.

Bang!

The fist landed heavily on Sigma’s face, twisting the face that had frozen in a smile.

“All your noisy nonsense. I don’t care for it!”