Chapter 26: The Cultist

Fang Yue crouched low, his back hunched like a cat, hiding beneath the inn’s counter.

He strained to distinguish the number of people outside by their voices—perhaps two or three, though he sensed there were others remaining silent, making it impossible to be sure.

The visitors outside beat on the door for a while. When no one responded, they finally stopped.

A moment later came the unmistakable sound of a lock being forced. Clearly, they meant to break in.

Soon, with a sharp crack, the inn’s door bolt was pried open from the outside.

The door creaked as it swung wide, and a blast of cold wind rushed in.

Cloaked in darkness, Fang Yue peered toward the entrance. Six men entered, one after another.

The man in front carried a red lantern; two others hauled in a cloth sack between them, while the remaining three followed close behind.

“Chief Xu, it seems everyone from the inn has vanished,” the man with the lantern remarked with a careless air, betraying none of the self-awareness of a fugitive.

The one called “Chief Xu” was a burly man with a scar running an inch long across his face, his features stern and, in the crimson glow, faintly sinister.

“No one is best,” Chief Xu replied coldly. “Saves us the trouble of killing.”

The others chuckled darkly. It was clear that killing meant nothing to them; they were men with nothing to lose, treating their own lives and the lives of others with equal disregard.

Inside the main hall, they set the cloth bag down. It wriggled constantly—there was something living inside.

“This little wench is unruly. She needs to be taught a lesson,” grinned a bearded man, a lecherous glint in his eye as he gazed at the sack.

He was one of the four traveling merchants who had stayed at the inn, complicit in the brutal murder of the three women from the brothel.

Chief Xu shot him a frosty glance. “Zhang Chengzhu, mind yourself. The girl is to serve as the earthly vessel for the Holy Envoy. She’ll be possessed when the Envoy descends. Are you tired of living, daring to covet her?”

The bearded man dared not retort, forcing a sheepish laugh instead.

Behind the counter, Fang Yue’s heart clenched. Words like “possession” and “usurpation” were not of this world—such talk spoke of supernatural powers.

Given the bloody, twisted rites practiced by these cultists, the entity they meant to summon could not possibly be anything good.

A steely resolve filled Fang Yue’s heart.

“I must strike down these cultists before this so-called demon envoy descends. Saving lives, yes, but it’s also for my own survival. If the demon comes, how could I hope to live while hiding in this inn?”

While eavesdropping on the cultists’ conversation in the hall, Fang Yue mulled these thoughts over.

There was something else on his mind: the demon envoy’s arrival would hardly be for pleasure. Judging by the cultists’ utter disregard for human life, the demon’s descent would surely herald a massacre—countless innocents would die, families destroyed.

So, if he slew these cultists and prevented the demon’s arrival, how much merit would he gain?

Punishing evil and promoting good both earned him points of merit.

There was no question these cultists were evil—killing them was an act of justice.

By slaying them, he would save not only the girl in the sack and the inn’s servant, but also countless innocent lives—a true act of goodness.

With a thought, Fang Yue summoned the merit system in his mind.

Fang Yue—

Merit: 47 points

Divine Abilities: Calculation, Foresight

Martial Skills: Comprehension Fist (Level One)

He had only 7 merit points left after repeatedly using “Calculation” and “Foresight.” Then, in his dream, he’d wounded those four ghostly constables, earning 40 merit points.

Every point was precious. Whether he wished to employ “Calculation” to deduce more powerful techniques, or “Foresight” to glean further information, he’d need them.

But the merit he possessed now was still far from enough.

Chief Xu glanced toward the inn’s second floor. “It’s almost time. Open the sack.”

The two men untied the rope and dragged out a young girl from within.

She was thirteen or fourteen, her hands bound behind her back, a cloth stuffed in her mouth. Her childish face was etched with terror, unable to voice a sound.

“Chief, if the Holy Envoy possesses this girl, won’t she become a person of great importance in our order?” the lantern-bearer asked.

Chief Xu glared at him. “What, you have an objection?”

“Not at all! I wouldn’t dare,” the man protested quickly. “I was just thinking, the Holy Envoy comes from the Upper Realm—what might her attitude toward our world be?”

Chief Xu answered coolly, “You think too much. Don’t ask what you shouldn’t, and don’t dwell on what you ought not.”

“Yes, yes,” the lantern-bearer stammered. “The Holy Envoy’s arrival is near, and I’m a bit nervous. I’d like to use the latrine first.”

Chief Xu frowned and waved him off dismissively, as if shooing a fly. “You always have something. Go and come back quickly.”

“Yes, yes.” The man handed his red lantern to another, then slipped away toward the back of the inn in the dark.

“Let’s go upstairs,” said Chief Xu, clearly not caring to wait for him. He hefted the bound girl and led the others toward the staircase.

Fang Yue tensed—he was near the stairs, just beside the counter. Once they reached the landing, it would be the perfect moment to strike.

There were five of them now, their strength unknown. Each carried bulging weapons at their sides—not easy opponents.

Fang Yue’s shoulder still ached from a recent wound, which would surely affect his strength.

He had two possible targets for a sneak attack: the man with the lantern—if he snuffed out the light, the darkness would favor him, since he was alone against five; or Chief Xu, the leader and a cult “Chief,” whose bearing suggested formidable skill. If he could cripple or kill him at once, it would break their fighting strength.

He would have only one true chance to strike before the rest reacted; after that, it would be a desperate fight.

Choosing his target was crucial.

There was no time for deliberation—Chief Xu, carrying the girl, was almost at the stairs.

Fang Yue held his breath, calmed his heartbeat, and listened intently as the footsteps drew near.

Not far behind the counter stood a wooden chair—the best weapon at hand for an ambush.

Yet Fang Yue forced himself to remain still, though he needed only a small movement to reach for it.

He dared not move, not even a little, lest he alert them.

Closer, closer—now!

As Chief Xu reached the stairs, Fang Yue sprang from behind the counter like a tiger pouncing on its prey, his fist driving straight for Chief Xu’s temple.

In the end, Fang Yue chose to strike at Chief Xu—the leader—rather than the lantern-bearer trailing a step behind.