After a fierce battle, the meeting hall in the castle was destroyed beyond recognition. The Ents had destroyed all the doors and windows, and the venom that dripped from their bodies had caused the once luxurious and exquisite carpet to emit a pungent smell. Gwen's final blow had shattered the entire floor in the southeast corner of the meeting hall, and opened a huge hole in the wall that went all the way to the ceiling. No matter how one looked at it, the house had to be repaired.
But compared to the losses suffered by the Leslie family in this disaster, Gwen was even more frustrated that after all this trouble, the cultist still managed to escape.
The All Shall Die Society, a heretical cult formed by the fallen Druil. Their sorcery was really hard to guard against.
Pitman immediately began to prepare a ritual spell to track the cultist's scent. According to him, there were many limitations to using escape spells in such an emergency. Especially since the Druil was not a class that was good at running, his teleportation spells mostly relied on the power of plants. So the cultist probably did not run far, and there was a high chance that he would still be in the castle after teleporting.
But just as the old Druil took out the leaves and ointment for the spell, a loud bang suddenly came from the dark night.
It was the sound of a crystal grenade exploding, and the direction … seemed to be where Byron and Knight were!
Gwen's face suddenly changed as he suddenly realized what had happened. "Quick! Go to the corridor! "
But when they arrived at Byron's location, the cultist was already gone.
They only saw vines torn apart by the blast, flesh and blood scattered on the ground, and the middle-aged Mr. Knight standing by the battlement with a helpless look on his face.
Gwen looked at Byron. "You better tell me that the cultist was blown to pieces by your crystal grenade, and that the floor is his …"
Byron helplessly spread out his hands. "If you want to hear it, I'll tell you."
Gwen was speechless.
"The floor is indeed part of the cultist, but I didn't expect a magician's body to be so tough." Byron explained what had just happened. "… Then the grenade exploded, but the cultist's reaction was too fast. The moment the grenade exploded, he was already far away, and I don't know how many life-saving things he had on him. In the end, one of his arms was blown off, and he fled into the woods behind the castle. I wanted to follow him, but he disappeared as soon as he entered the woods. "
"It's a Druil after all." Gawain furrowed his brows. What had happened to Byron was truly a series of twists and turns. First, the cultists had accidentally bumped into the weakened Byron, then the illiterate cultists had taken over the lightning version of the Pyroblast spell, and then the cultists who had been hit in the face with a Pyroblast actually ran away … It could only be said that the cultists were not destined to die tonight.
Gwen knew very well that he had severely injured the cultist, and under those circumstances, even if the cultist used magic to escape, he would not have been able to completely escape the shockwave of the Steel Storm. But he did not expect that the level 5 cultist was not only a magician, but also a warrior with gold. Under those circumstances, he still had some life-saving items on him … Rich people's playstyle, rich people's playstyle.
"It's impossible to catch up." Pitman looked regretfully at the woods behind the castle. The woods grew along the western slope of the Tannsan Mine, and connected with the forest in the distance. "Druil went into the woods, with our current manpower, we can't hope to find him."
"We've let a hidden danger escape." Knight Philip said in a heavy tone.
"No, according to the usual practice of the Doomed Cult, once their operation in an area failed and their whereabouts were exposed, they would not act for a period of time unless there was an important target that they were willing to sacrifice a large number of their members." Pitman shook his head. "A Druil cult that does not specialize in combat could survive and grow to this day, they did not rely on recklessness."
"Regardless, at least we've resolved the crisis here." Gwen sighed and suppressed his displeasure. He quickly ordered, "Pitman, go to the courtyard and find a way to dispel the magic on the victims. Save as many as you can. Byron, Philip, you two go and help."
With lives at stake, the three of them did not delay and immediately nodded and left.
"Let's go back to the hall." Gwen looked at Amber again. "That poor Viscount Andrew is still being ignored."
As he said, he turned his head and was about to leave the roof.
But just as he was about to take a step, a sudden flash of light in the darkness caught his attention.
Gwen immediately stopped and came to the spot where the light flashed. Soon, he found what he was looking for among the withered vines and fallen leaves. It was a small section of a charred finger with a small ring on it.
It was obviously the remains of the black-robed cultists.
"Hey, you have the habit of searching the body after a fight. I thought you were a decent person …" Amber came over curiously, but before she could finish her sentence, she was attracted by the thing in Gwen's hand. "Eh? A ring? And it's not broken?! "
Without much effort, Gawain removed the tiny ring from the carbonized finger. Half of the ring's surface had been charred black, but the remaining part was still glimmering with a faint silver light under the starlight. This' accessory 'that was supposed to face the explosive power of a crystal grenade was, as per what Amber had said, undamaged in the slightest!
It was still shining after a little rub!
Gwen looked at the ring and frowned slightly. He vaguely felt that this thing was a little familiar.
Soon, he remembered where he had seen something similar before.
Gao Wen took off his glove. He was wearing an identical ring on his finger!
That's right, this is …
"What the f * ck?!" Amber suddenly shouted. "You're wearing the same ring as this cultist! What's the relationship between the two of you?! "
"Believe it or not, I'll beat you to the ground if you keep yelling! You won't even be able to pry it out! " Gwen glared at Amber, then lowered his head and put the two rings together. "Looks like it's the Mithril Ring …"
"Mithril Ring?" Amber vaguely remembered where the ring on Gwen's hand came from. She remembered the trip to the Captical Vault a few months ago. She remembered that Gwen mentioned the name of 'my'.
Pony's Mithril Vault agent. Although she did not meet the agent at that time (she was sent flying on the spot, so she did not see her face), she had seen the ring that Gwen got from the agent. "Mithril Vault?!"
Then she reacted. "You mean, that cultist is probably a 'senior client' of the Mithril Vault like you?!"
"This kind of ring can't be given out casually, and if it's not an important item, a cultist wouldn't carry this thing with him when he comes out to take revenge on society." Gwen nodded. "Looks like … the Mithril Vault's business is really big."
Amber was dumbfounded. "Aren't they afraid that the cultists will 'die' them too?!"
Gwen smiled indifferently. "They even dare to take the order of the Elemental King. What's there to be afraid of?"
Then he carefully searched the roof for traces left by the cultists, but other than the ring in his hand, he found nothing else.
Everything else was really blown to pieces.
Then the two returned to the hall where they had fought before. The Lord of Tanzania Town, Viscount Andrew of the Leslie Family, was still there.
As a matter of fact, he couldn't go anywhere else. After being corroded and tortured by the Fallen Druid's sorcery for so many days, coupled with the fact that he didn't have any supernatural abilities, he had to rely on potions to barely gain a little magic ability. Hence, Viscount Andrew's magic resistance and physique were almost the same as ordinary people. In fact, he was even weaker because of the excessive consumption of potions. Now, even if he wasn't affected by the sorcery anymore, his weak limbs wouldn't allow him to move.
He could only lie paralyzed in his chair and watch as the group of people tore apart half of his hall. He could only watch as they left and watch as Gawain and Amber returned.
The only thing to be thankful for was that the aftermath of the previous battle did not affect him. The viscount was still intact.
"The cultists have run away." Gwen came to Viscount Andrew and said without hiding anything. "But they probably won't come back — at least not in the short term."
The viscount, who had survived the disaster, rolled his eyes with difficulty. He took a few deep breaths, joy and worry showed on his face. But first, he thanked Hao Ren weakly. "Thank you for your help … Your Grace, now I feel that befriending you is the best decision I've made in my life … Ahem … I'm starving. Can you give me some food first?"
Gwen shook his head and reached for a small crystal bottle. "Although I want to give you a full meal now, you'd better drink this first."
Viscount Andrew looked at the small bottle in confusion. "This is …"
"A potion concocted by the Druil in my fief. It can replenish your strength and repair your organs." Gwen pulled the cork out of the bottle and put it next to the mouth of the viscount who could not even hold the bottle. "Your organs are dying. If you eat now, you'll die. You have to drink the potion first."
Although Pitman often sold the useless' Lucky Ointment 'in his fief, but the functional potions he concocted were still useful. Not long after drinking the potion, Viscount Andrew's face looked better.
Only then did Gawain ask, "Do you have any information about that Evil Cultist? Why are you being targeted by an organization like the All Things Endgame Association? "
Viscount Andrew's face twitched as if he wanted to make a bitter smile. But in the end, he could only sigh. "Sigh … I can only blame myself for digging up something I shouldn't have."
"Digging up something you shouldn't have?" Gwen frowned. "What do you mean?"
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