Herasu shuddered when he saw the old man who was dressed in the Sin Temple's priest robe and was walking over quickly.
Unlike the common priest outfit, this particular one had a golden thread sewn on it.
Among the many temples, the golden thread only meant one thing: Archpriest!
The Archpriest of Sin Temple, Burwell!
Burwell, a man who held an important position in Naveya City or even the whole south.
It wasn't just because he was the Archpriest of Sin Temple.
It was also because of his legendary status.
That's right, he was legendary!
Ever since he killed two adult gang members at the age of 13 and was heavily injured, he was adopted by a nameless deacon of Sin Temple. His life had been astonishing.
At the age of 14, after recovering from his injuries, he relied on the techniques he learned from the Sin Knight to kill all 20 members of the gang.
Then, he was heavily injured again.
Everyone thought Burwell was dead for sure.
However, after being unconscious for three days, Burwell woke up again.
Everyone was shocked by Burwell's vitality, and they thought that Burwell, who had survived, would obediently inherit his adoptive father's position.
As a matter of fact, the next two years were pretty much the same.
Until the poor deacon was killed by a bunch of bandits on his way to the south.
The 16 year old Burwell got the news and vanished from the temple that very night.
Burwell didn't know who killed his adopted father.
But it didn't matter.
All he needed to do was kill the bandits that headed south.
Ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand.
One day, ten days, a hundred days, a thousand days.
One year, two years, three years … ten years!
Burwell grew from a 16 year old to a 26 year old young man and his name became the nightmare of the bandits along the south road.
Every single bandit feared running into Burwell the most.
Therefore, the number of bandits dwindled.
There were hundreds and thousands of bandits, but now there were only a few of them.
In the end, nothing was heard from them.
Back then, the 26 year old Burwell returned to Naveya City.
Burwell who was dressed in rags and holding a rusty sword received a hero's welcome but he didn't care. He returned to Sin Temple and successfully challenged the then Head of the Knight and became the new Head of the Knight. For the next 20 years, he became the officiant and finally the archpriest.
A forty-six-year-old High Priest.
It was an age worth remembering.
But when it came to Burwell, it was not strange at all.
Too many meritorious deeds, too many military successes, made everyone wholeheartedly submit to the High Priest.
Even if the other party was old, it was still the same.
At least, Herasu from Hunter Temple was scared silly.
When Herasu saw the archpriest of Sin Temple appear before him, his trembling mind was in a mess. He never thought such a coincidence would happen.
Just as he was about to stand against the other party, the other party appeared!
It was too coincidental.
It was so coincidental that even Herasu, whose thoughts were frozen in shock, noticed that something was wrong.
Horace instinctively looked at Kieran beside him.
"I will forgive him."
"Just like how you people are willing to stand on Thorn Temple's side."
Kieran was speaking in a calm and slow tone as if he was stating something that couldn't be changed.
From the start to the end, Kieran didn't even look at the archpriest.
Kieran's attention was captivated by the sudden appearance of the High Priest of Sin Temple.
Likewise, the archpriest didn't care about Herasu either, instead, he walked towards Kieran.
When he was around 20 meters away from Kieran, the archpriest stopped.
Both of them looked at each other. The archpriest's eyes were sharp and dazzling while Kieran's eyes were different from the calmness before, it was sharp like a sword, sharp beyond compare.
Huu!
The night breeze was blowing but when it got close to Kieran and the archpriest, it went silent in an instant, as if it was blown into a bottomless abyss, there wasn't any echo.
Silence.
It was extremely quiet.
It was unbearably quiet.
It was terrifyingly quiet.
Herasu, who was ignored by both of them, felt his chest was stuffy, as if he was hammered in the chest, it was so unbearable that he wanted to vomit blood.
Without further ado, Herasu brought his animal companion and retreated a few dozen meters away, but right after that, the priest's face changed drastically again.
"Go!"
Horace turned over and rode on his animal companion as he gave the order.
Herasu laid down on the black hound's back, feeling his animal companion bringing him further away and calming his heart. The priest of Hunter Temple couldn't help but turn around for a glance.
Herasu's eyes widened instantly.
What did he see?
He saw mountains of bodies and seas of blood!
He saw thrones made of bones!
He saw millions of souls wailing at the sky under the moonlight!
He saw two kings with sharp blades in their hands, dressed in bright red, looking like Asura!
Kill!
Kill!
Kill! Kill!
…
A series of thunderous shouts reverberated in Herasu's heart. He had just calmed himself down, but in that instant, he felt as if he was struck by lightning.
Puk!
He couldn't hold back the mouthful of blood anymore, spitting it out.
"M-Monster!
Two monsters! "
Herasu groaned as blood trickled down the corner of his mouth.
Then, the priest of Hunter Temple fainted on the back of his animal companion, allowing his animal companion to carry him away.
Herasu left.
However, more people appeared in the dark.
They were looking at the confrontation between Kieran and Burwell with an interested gaze.
"'King of Killers' vs' King of Killers'?"
"Interesting! Interesting! "
"Two executioners killing each other!"
"Executioners?"
"No, no, the strong should be respected, they are Asuras!"
"Lucky to witness such a battle."
…
In the shadows, in the corners, countless voices were communicating.
Some were low, some were high.
Some were admiring.
Some were interested.
Some snorted.
Regardless, none of them had the intention to cover up.
Their identity as archpriest or officiant didn't require such a disguise.
No need.
No need.
After all, they had nothing to do with the two who were going to fight to the death.
They were just bystanders.
Kieran and Burwell didn't care about the bystanders.
Both of them had their attention on each other.
Except for each other.
They couldn't see or hear anything else.
Wuuu, Wuuuu!
The night breeze somehow got stronger.
Kieran's crow feathered mantle was fluttering, his hair was fluttering in the wind, dancing messily, revealing his unforgettable eyes.
Clear as water.
Yet overflowing with killer intent.
It reflected Burwell drawing his sword from the sheath bit by bit.
The sword was normal and filled with rust.
The bright red rust made the sword look like a piece of scrap metal.
But as the sword was drawn out bit by bit, the more deafening wails of the dead drowned the night breeze.
Everyone felt like an illusion of tens of thousands of people being slaughtered appeared before their eyes.
Kieran wasn't an exception either.
In fact, he was the one who felt it the most.
But he was also the one who wasn't affected at all.
Wuuu, Wuuu!
Aaaargh!
Beside him, the night breeze was noisy.
His ears were filled with wails.
Kieran moved in a flash and vanished on the spot.
He leaped up into the air.
The giant, bewitching purple sword was raised above his head.
Suddenly, the purple moonlight shone brightly.
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