The Devil’s Cage

Kieran hid in the mist giant, his killer intents flooding the entire city.

Those with ulterior motives sensed the killer intents and trembled in fear.

Those pagans with many other thoughts that sensed the killer intents drowned in disbelief, especially Withering Branch and Resting Deer.

Considered one of the few who came in contact with the Mist, these two pagans widened their eyes at the mist giant that shrouded the sky, feeling the almighty gaze from the giant, their absolute confidence in their plan shaken.

Beside them was Decaying Water, which was astonished at first before it became furious, not towards the Mist, but towards the other two collaborators.

“This is what you meant by insignificant? This is what you meant by ‘don’t worry about it’? Or… were you two trying to set me up since the beginning?”

Decaying Water used a very special method in communicating with Withering Branch and Resting Deer. While it was communicating, it instinctively drew distance from the two of them.

It was taking precautions against those two and it was being very explicit about it, there was no need to conceal it anymore.

The other Crippling Cold who trusted the two had fallen into a desperate situation, as it could neither break free or press on forward.

Decaying Water had no intentions of being like Crippling Cold.

Withering Branch and Resting Deer tried to explain themselves, but they had no words.

They really had no idea the Mist was this powerful, similar to Crippling Cold.

Its most important altar in Sicar raided and destroyed, Crippling Cold was furious, disregarding any consequences and rushing to the place.

All it wanted to do was crush the bastard who destroyed its altar. Never did it think it would provoke the Mist, who it never expected to be this powerful.

It wanted to say it was nothing but a misunderstanding, but would the Mist accept the excuse?

Or if Crippling Cold was in the Mist’s shoes, would it accept it?

The answer was no.

It wouldn’t just deny the excuse, it would retaliate with harsher means too.

As the thought came afloat, Crippling Cold ran for its life.

Running away would eventually cost Crippling Cold the believers that it had spent much effort to gather but that wasn’t anything serious. They were nothing but foolish humans and it had ways to gather them again.

It was just leaving for the moment. Once it figured out a way to reach an accord with the Mist, everything would return to normal.

Or so it thought.

Crippling Cold turned away and ran towards the street filled with its believers.

In such desperate times, only its old lair in Sicar could provide itself with a sense of safety, not just hypothetically, but also literally—Crippling Cold had a thousand souls of the dead hidden under that street.

Some were its believers, while others were its prey.

Everything ended up as its trump card for a situation like this, a trump card that could protect itself.

Sincavolt, who saw Crippling Cold’s reaction, chuckled coldly.

“Looks impressive, but nothing solid.”

He glanced over the Crippling Cold and then landed his gaze on the mist giant, the bishop of God of War was being very outspoken.

Beside him was Viscount Sicar and he nodded in agreement.

“The mist is formless. Other than poison, the mist can’t cause any actual harm, it’s just scaring us…”

Before Viscount Sicar could finish, he was interrupted by a shocking scene.

A ball of blazing fire fell from the sky and crashed onto Crippling Cold fiercely.

This ball of blazing flame was hot enough to distort the air and came too suddenly, Crippling Cold never thought the Mist could perform such a fiery attack.

It only reacted when the scorching air flooded itself.

The ball of flame fell from the sky, so it had no ground to dodge at all. All it could do was endure it with clenched teeth.

Fuaaa!

A layer of freezing air as thick as a meter shrouded itself, reeking of decay.

Myriads of concentrated souls sprung out from the ground and fused themselves with the decaying presence.

The formless decaying presence started to turn black, causing anyone who laid eyes on it to tremble in fear.

Some weaker ones fell to the ground right away.

As the black color rumbled, ruthlessness appeared on Crippling Cold’s formless face.

It was getting ready to release the shriek of the dead.

The thousand souls that fused into the decaying presence looked up to the mist giant, a special energy starting to brew inside them.

“Decay is my shield. Cold is my sword. Mist, do you really think you are the only one with hidden…”

Kaboom!

Kieran had zero intentions to bullshit with the pagan, Devil Flame crashing onto the black decaying presence.

It was like white snow melting under the bright sun.

The blazing flames destroyed the decaying presence with the utmost destructive force, then clashed with the freezing air.

Kaboom!

Another explosion sounded, even the ground was shaken.

The freezing air melted instantaneously.

Everyone clearly heard an unknown painful shriek.

Crippling Cold was hit by Devil Flame right in the face.

Even though Devil Flame crashed through two protective layers, ‘decay’ and ‘cold’, it wasn’t slowing down at all. With the Transcendence option [Malicious Spread], Devil Flame obeyed Kieran’s will and burned exclusively on Crippling Cold’s body.

The painful moans became shrill begging.

“S-Spare me!”

The begging spread as the flames rumbled and swept over the streets.

The street where Crippling Cold’s believers stood was devoured by the flames and everything was burned to cinders.

Crippling Cold’s voice grew softer and eventually silent.

The wind blew again, carrying the mist giant away, not a single trace left behind.

The people of the city were astonished by the jaw-dropping scene, the pagans stupefied and even Viscount Sicar and Bishop Sincavolt left terrified.

Viscount Sicar took a deep breath to suppress the shock that rose from his heart before looking at Sincavolt.

Sincavolt, who was as buff as a wall, didn’t show any expression on his face but that slightly hurried breath told Viscount Sicar that he was as shocked as him.

“We should change our plans. Withering Branch, Resting Deer, Decaying Water, and Crippling Cold took too much of our attention, that’s why we overlooked the Mist. I think we should be concerned about the Mist more from now on,” said the viscount.

“Agreed. Terminate the plan right away, we need to reconsider everything,” Sincavolt nodded.

“Terminate? Is there no other way?” Viscount Sicar frowned.

It was worth taking note that he had spent a lot to gather the pagans together, not just Gold Purtons but also lives, including his beloved nephew Carl.

A direct termination of the plan was unacceptable, yet his logic told him it was the best way. His emotions, however, fantasized a better outcome.

“No! But with our powers alone, we are not equipped to deal with pagans that we do not understand,” Bishop Sincavolt shook his head.

“Then… what about His Majesty?” A little hesitation later, the viscount asked softly.

“His Majesty is concentrating on dealing with the disaster caused by Calamity, he shouldn’t be distracted. You should know that compared to that woman, these pagans are not even considered minor ailments. If we can’t share His Majesty’s burden, at the very least we shouldn’t burden him with more,” the bishop shook his head.

“I understand. I’ll make the arrangements accordingly,” replied the viscount.

“I’ll head to the wilderness and search for more about the Mist and his origins. I’ll contact you if I get anything,” said the bishop before he left the tower.

After Sincavolt went away, a strange and eerie smile popped up on the viscount’s face, making his face look twisted to some extent.

He knelt down on one knee towards War God Temple.

“Your Majesty, I will do my very best! I will be able to share your burden.”

The blabbers in his ears almost became praise towards the God of War. Viscount Sicar got even more excited, his face twisting to its limit, like his facial features were moving away.

Sincavolt didn’t leave the mansion through the main gate but through the secret passage.

When he got back to the surface, the sun was shining all over Sicar again, as if the great mist was nothing but a dream yet the scene of a whole street plunged into a fiery sea kept replaying itself in his mind, it told the bishop that everything that had happened was real.

“Accidents, eh? What a damn.”

Curses and unheard slang came out from the bishop’s mouth.

A deacon armed with a sword, who had been waiting for the bishop outside War God Temple, saw him and was surprised by the jaw-dropping reaction.

He never thought the always noble, quiet, and reliable bishop had such a dark side.

Especially the slang he spoke, it shouldn’t belong to Sicar Land but the bishop was home grown, so why would he speak in slang?

Doubts appeared in the deacon’s heart but he had no chance to clear it because his neck was snapped by the bishop.

Pak!

The emblem of War God Temple was taken away and the body was simply discarded in an alley.

Sincavolt wasn’t concerned by the kill at all. He knew someone would discover the body soon but no one would deliver the news to War God Temple because no one would want to attract trouble and they were eager to make some extra money.

Since the identity of the body was not known, a pouch with substantial coins could solve any kind of problem, and inside Sicar, there was no lack of such people to take care of it.

After the kill, Sincavolt’s heart grew calm, striding towards the other side of Sicar.

He was vastly experienced, of course he wouldn’t go to the wilderness to search for answers.

Searching for clues in the wilderness would only be useful against those pagans that appeared during the early days of Black Cataclysm. The Mist was different and with that kind of power, he obviously wasn’t some random pagan.

The Mist was on a whole different level, he shouldn’t be compared to previous foes and the bishop would beg to be excused from going up against it toe to toe.

Besides, the arrangements in Sicar were completed. Even though it was delayed by some unexpected accidents, it did not affect the general plan.

Now, all Sincavolt had to do was sit back and watch the show.

As the thought lingered in his head, his buff body rapidly shrunk and his face transformed into a common man. A few steps later, he naturally converged with the endless flow of people.

…

Borl was having some luck after he successfully sent a letter out from War God Temple.

His letter described what happened in Sicar City in detail and hoped that the noble would spare him two more days and to show his sincerity, Borl would even add a 50 Gold Purton draft bill in the letter.

Draft bills were used by the Edatine royals as a guarantee and it was viable for use not only in Edatine but throughout all of Northern Land.

“Thank you for your help.”

Borl tipped the clergy beside him.

It was a necessary fee for delivering a message and also considered a monetary offering to the God of War.

However, the clergy didn’t accept the tip with his hand, reacting with a rather dull look.

Borl followed the clergy’s gaze and looked outside of the temple.

The War God Temple of Sicar wasn’t big at all. If compared, it was almost identical to the War God Temple in Mozaar, and other than some extra extravagant decorations, the temple consisted of a main building and square in front of it.

The main building was the place for prayers, other than that was a room to repent sins in and the clergy’s quarters, plus daily infrastructure.

Most believers were only allowed to perform their prayers in the square, so it was rather difficult for them to enter the main building.

Borl was considered a normal believer and he was currently in the War God Temple Square.

The War God Temple might not be big but it was tall, therefore standing in the square allowed Borl to see everything in Sicar from a higher view, including outside the city.

Borl widened his eyes at the mist giant that appeared outside the walls and that blazing fire ball that fell from the sky.

Unknowingly, he thought of the Flaming Devil.

No! It can’t be! Using the mist wasn’t 2567’s Style!

Besides, he had no reason to make such a move! He wasn’t a person who would act recklessly!

Borl was baffled by the thought, shoving the Gold Purton into the clergy’s hand and then running towards Anan Hotel.

Even though his heart denied it, he was still a little doubtful and curious.

He flew back to the hotel and headed straight to Kieran’s room.

Eight before he knocked on the door, he stopped.

In what attitude should he visit Kieran?

In what position was he asking from?

Should he accidentally provoke the Flaming Devil, he might…

Borl quivered when the thought came, quickly calming down and retracting his hand from knocking, slowly turning around and heading to the main lobby of the hotel like nothing happened.

‘I am certain that wasn’t 2567’s style, there’s nothing for me to confirm anymore.

Don’t waste my time and energy on unnecessary confirmations!

Curiosity is unnecessary!’

Borl freed himself from the hard options, then joined the crowd in their heated discussion with a normal look.

The hotel owner looked at Borl dubiously, wanting to ask but a sudden pain spread from his head.

Holuff turned ugly, grabbing the liquor beside him and taking a few big gulps.

He heaved a breath of relief after the pain subsided.

As for the question he was going to ask Borl, it was discarded beyond the heavens.

He was troubled with new doubts: had his ‘illness’ grown severe?

Holuff became worried.

On the other hand, Kieran, who had just returned to his room, looked at the [Lord of Mist] with a smile on his face.

New changes had happened to the crystal and they were surprising!