CHAPTER 153: CHAPTER 153: SECRET ROOM_1

Lance paid Reynard no mind, advancing with his sword at the ready.

The woman on the bed, upon seeing this, showed not a hint of panic. With one hand, she pushed the man towards Lance, then leaped naked from the bed, a small Dagger appearing in her hand from nowhere.

"Enem—"

She had just begun to call out, but how could her reaction be faster than Lance’s?

He kicked aside the man lunging towards him and then lunged forward himself, interrupting her cry.

Their difference in strength was too great. The instant their weapons clashed, the small Dagger was knocked from her hand by Lance’s brute force. The next second, his Short Sword plunged into her chest, pinning her against the bed.

"AH! COUGH!"

Yet, strangely, she showed no pain from the injury; instead, her expression turned fanatical.

Lance knew the methods these Heretics used. He withdrew the Short Sword and thrust it upward from beneath her chin, ending her life swiftly.

All of this happened so quickly that the others had just entered when they saw Lance had already dealt with the woman. His cold, murderous actions terrified the other man, especially when Lance advanced on him with the bloody Short Sword. The man, horrified, scrambled backward on his hands until he hit a wall.

"No! You can’t do this! I have money! I can give you money! Please, spare me!"

"Tell me what’s going on here, now!" Lance pressed the Short Sword against the man’s neck. Money was useless now.

Under duress, the man confessed. This place was merely a high-end brothel, sought after for a drug that could restore a man’s vigor, thus attracting many clients.

He was a mid-level Bureaucrat in Ovando City, introduced by a friend to "have some fun."

Lance understood. The Ascension Cultists hadn’t been so bold and overt; instead, they had cloaked their operations under another layer. This brothel served as a front and an initial filter for potential followers.

The women brought here weren’t necessarily sacrifices. Perhaps they were trained as attendants, meant to pleasure the faithful and recruit new followers through seduction and enchantment, much like the scene they had just witnessed.

It’s even possible that the one who charmed Barton came from this very place.

Once he learned the general situation, the man was no longer useful. Lance mercilessly killed him with a single thrust, then used Sacrifice to dispose of the body, his movements smooth and efficient.

He picked up the mostly full vial of Potion from the bedside table. Swirling the pale blue liquid inside, Lance couldn’t help but feel a chill.

He had witnessed the methods of these cultists before. Their production techniques were unknown, and their concoctions often came with severe side effects.

It was unclear what exactly this substance was.

There was no time for a thorough investigation now, so he stowed the Potion away.

The team continued their advance. Most private rooms revealed similar scenes. Some patrons were indulging in orgies, the clientele largely Ovando City’s Bureaucrats and wealthy elite, all rediscovering their youthful passion here.

But today, that passion was a bit too intense, even beyond their ability to handle.

Doors were kicked open, and Lance’s group stormed in, killing without a word, leaving only chaos in their wake.

Then, a piercing shriek seemed to activate the entire building—

"AH!"

Their uninhibited slaughter had finally alerted the Heretics. The previously quiet environment erupted into commotion. From both ends of the corridor, more than a dozen figures suddenly appeared.

There were scantily clad Heretic acolytes, Heretic Mobs disguised as Guards, and fanatical believers with crazed expressions.

They all brandished weapons, rushing towards the team with a reckless disregard for their own lives.

These rooms had just been cleared. The only explanation was the existence of secret passages, allowing the Heretics to circle around and ambush them.

Being attacked from both front and rear in the narrow corridor would have sent anyone else into a panic, but Lance had arranged for Reynard to be at the rear precisely for this reason. He had anticipated such a move.

"Blasphemers! Witness the brilliance of the sun!" Reynard bellowed, swinging his Longsword.

Those unarmored Heretics could hardly withstand his attacks. Even those who rushed forward, unafraid of injury or death, could only strike his armor, failing to cause any real harm.

The narrow corridor limited the number of Heretics they faced from that direction. Reynard stood his ground like one man holding off ten thousand, staunchly defending the team’s rear and preventing a pincer attack.

As for the front?

Lance was on a killing spree.

He lacked Reynard’s skill with a Longsword in such a confined space, where it was prone to getting caught. So, he dual-wielded short axes, hacking away with brute force. None who crossed his path remained standing.

The Heretics’ attacks meant little to him; he easily dodged or blocked them with his weapons. If he had been wearing armor, he would have forgone defense entirely and charged into their midst to slaughter them with maximum efficiency.

Dismas wielded his Dagger, thrusting and slicing. Every move aimed for vital spots, causing blood to spurt with each strike.

His ruthless and decisive methods showcased his exceptional skill. He was a cold-blooded robber and a deadly assassin!

Soon, the dozen or so attackers who had swarmed them lay dead, their clothes stained with blood.

Everyone remained calm, checking themselves and their equipment. Lance, meanwhile, used Sacrifice to dispose of the bodies and prevent any further complications.

Even William remained relatively composed after the brief battle, simply consoling Fergus.

Previously, he had only dealt with petty thieves, street ruffians, or mercenaries causing drunken disturbances. Seeing bloodshed was uncommon for him.

But ever since associating with the Lord, brutal battles had occurred one after another. He had reacted strongly at first but had slowly adapted.

Still, he was amazed at their formidable strength. Even such ferocious enemies hadn’t been able to shake the team. If Reynard hadn’t held off most of the enemies at their rear just now, he and Fergus could have been injured or even killed.

"The way they appeared was suspicious," Lance said. "Dismas, you and William, find the secret passage. Reynard and I will search the remaining rooms. Everyone, be careful."

With time running short, Lance had no choice but to divide their forces.

After that wave of attacks, the entire establishment seemed to quiet down again. They opened several rooms to find them empty, but clothes scattered on the beds and various items still indicated these rooms had recently been sites of intense activity.

"Found it!" A shout rang out.

Lance and Reynard hurried over. In one room, Fergus crouched before a tall bookcase. William, who was with Dismas and Fergus, explained, "Fergus smells red candles. The scent is coming from here."

"Open it." Lance had no intention of looking for a mechanism. Several of them used brute force to push the bookcase aside, revealing a hidden entrance behind it.

Looking at the passage leading down into the earth, Lance understood. This isn’t going to end simply.

The ritual has begun...