### Chapter 123: Frenzy (Part 2)
Inside the towering northern walls of the city, scattered Infernal Fires flickered in the streets and ruins, glowing as they stretched into the distance. Shouts from people and the thunder of hooves resounded from every direction, as knights clad in golden armor stomped through the bl**d-soaked ground, hunting down the fleeing Heretics like a bunch of overzealous exterminators.
Meanwhile, the wall’s direction bore the signs of their Vice Captain, Lord Isaac, whose Judgment Fist had smashed numerous craters that gleamed in the eyes of the onlookers. Farther south, in a darker zone of the city, flashes of light pulsed with alarming frequency, resembling a frontline under heavy artillery fire—definitely not a place for a picnic.
Boom! The ground trembled repeatedly, shaking everyone’s hearts with sounds echoing from that fiery epicenter. After one particularly grand explosion, a few knights hesitated in their chase, gazing upward with shock-stricken faces, murmuring to each other, “Is that… Lady Silvya fighting over there?”
“Scary…”
“She’s just a girl younger than we are…”
“Shhh! Don’t let her hear you say that!”
“How could she possibly hear us…”
The night sky was thick with smoke, and the clamor of humanity had all but disappeared in the northern city. The grand slaughter unfolded like a bloody theater as countless knights stormed into the fray. bl**d and flames rose in the darkness, divine light poured down from above, obliterating the lurking threats in the corners as Horned Horses galloped, and knights yelled, rushing toward the south where the fighting intensified.
Beyond a thousand meters south of the northern city wall, human silhouettes collided and scattered against the walls, debris flying as the walls crumbled under the pressure of furious skirmishes. In the midst of the conflagration, a Heretic known as Fog Hidden was blasted away, his body shredded beyond recognition, hardly even resembling a human anymore. Yet somehow, his throat remained intact, and he let out a haunting howl from a mouth twisted in agony.
Infernal Fire raced forward, but it posed no threat to the petite girl battling him.
Another explosion sent bricks flying like confetti, destroying streetlights in the process, as dust and debris suffocated everything in their wake while the girl surged forward with a vengeance.
In a dark alley, a few hundred meters away, the woman named Lilith had already turned to jelly, leaning against a wall and plopping down under the protective arm of the young knight, Barry. Her mind struggled to catch up after what felt like an eternity of chaos.
She heard explosions off in the distance, the bursts growing fiercer in the aftermath of sporadic gunfire that seemed to creep closer and closer.
Lilith trembled violently, fear and shock festering in her heart, her mind drifting as if lost in a dream. She covered her ears, bowing her head like a flighty ostrich trying to hide from reality that was all too horrifying.
“Don’t be scared, that’s my sister over there. You’ll be fine…” Barry whispered, though his gaze remained fixed on where the flames dominated, his face pale and frozen, his eyes gleaming oddly.
…………
Boom—
Flames erupted, frost flew chaotically, and the fury unleashed sent houses flying, causing massive destruction as shockwaves spread through the dust. Two figures intertwined within this chaos, bl**d splattering everywhere.
Boom!
As walls and stones crumbled, the girl seized Fog Hidden by his hair, slamming his head into the ground while bending low, unleashing one punch after another at his bloodied face.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
“Where’s the Jester—!”
Crash!
Everything around them crumbled in the turmoil; countless items ignited or froze mid-air. The ground below cracked under the onslaught of her punches, and the man’s skull was squashed like an overripe fruit—he couldn’t even utter a word anymore, his presence reduced to a mere punching bag. Instead of interrogation, the girl’s relentless questions sounded more like venting her own frustrations.
Her slender arms swung like a whirlwind, smashing Fog Hidden’s head, crushing his chest, and fracturing his limbs. bl**d sprayed everywhere, and despite the blazing Infernal Fire, the girl remained unharmed, while every one of her attacks landed with brutal precision on Fog Hidden—who was slowly losing track of everything under such relentless punishment. In this absurd predicament, he found himself contemplating how ridiculous it was to be beaten by a girl half his age.
Absolutely helpless.
It felt like she was born to counter him; he had never felt such a mix of humiliation and absurdity in any previous fights. Although her swordplay bore some semblance to the ancient Sword Saints, Fog Hidden realized that her technique was rough around the edges; she didn’t fully grasp the movements yet, at times seeming quite awkward.
With his past prowess, he took pride in his innate ability, having sidestepped d*ath countless times, and was no stranger to wielding the Infernal Fire of bl**d Sacrifice. To him, the likes of typical Pope Knights were not even worth his notice—there was nothing to fear. He could trade injury for injury, life for life, soaking up damage just to incinerate his foes into dust—he had dealt with foes who were stronger than him with this method more than once.
However, now the tables had turned.
The girl hit with unyielding ferocity; Fog Hidden was starting to feel the tides of battle slipping away from him. The Infernal Fire he counted on diminished with each blow, and while he defended himself, he kept repeating in his mind to stay calm. But panic and fear swirled inside him, clouding any escape plan that may have flickered in his mind.
Her straightforward assaults, techniques he once dismissed as beneath him, became crushing realities that disrupted everything he thought he knew. Each falling punch echoed in his senses as the girl leaped and kicked him, causing him to stumble once more, losing his footing—this direct approach was something he used to scoff at before; now, it was proving too effective.
Boom boom boom boom boom—
A torrent of violent ice crashed down like missiles, unleashing immense light and heat, rendering everything flat. As if the very fabric of reality buckled, waves of shock rolled forth, obliterating walls like they were mere paper. The next moment, he glimpsed the girl’s beautiful face, then everything went black.
Fog Hidden’s eyes exploded from the impact, frigid frost enveloping his face, the raging Infernal Fire flickered out under the cold mist. His battered body was yanked up by his hair, thrown into the air, and a sharp, ice blade darted forth, embedding itself in his forehead—
Clang!
His body was pinned against the remains of a collapsing wall, swinging like a pendulum as bl**d pooled down from his twisted, suspended feet.
“Haha…”
The man chuckled softly.
One would struggle to fathom the complexity of his emotions at that moment.
The girl’s strength, speed, and talent were leagues above his own and surpassed anyone he’d ever faced. He recalled how the first few mentioned her with laughter, the way every commoner, even the lowliest of cultists, thought that a sixteen-year-old girl possessed little threat in their seasoned presence.
Marcus, Angus, Hacha, Weithermill…any one of them could have easily slain this fledgling girl.
And now…
Weithermill was probably dead.
How ludicrous, how absurd; how could this be? It must be some kind of cheat…
Thoughts spiraled wildly in his mind, rage and fear brewed infinitely, reaching a boiling point. Just moments ago, he was brimming with confidence, making plans to turn the girl into his plaything.
“Ha ha ha…”
The girl stood before him, watching the grotesque version of the Demon smile broadly, revealing a bloody, terrifying grin like a maniac.
She was waiting for him to recover.
Waiting for the man’s face, mouth, and tongue to mend, she asked again: “Where’s the Jester? Where is he?”
Wiping the bl**d off her face, she blinked innocently, her expression devoid of feeling as she added, “Say it, and I’ll let you d*e.”
“Haha—”
Fog Hidden was laughing till tears almost spilled.
If only his eyes were functioning.
When did he become so weak that he allowed his enemy to casually suggest, “I’ll grant you the mercy of d*ath”?
Since that was the case…
Why not just d*e?
“Ha ha… you want… to know where the Jester is… ha ha…”
“You’re making me uncomfortable with that laugh.”
Smack!
Another slap.
“Ha ha ha…”
Fog Hidden continued laughing.
“You must be… very unhappy because of the Jester… ha ha…”
As his left eye began recovering from the flames, Fog Hidden saw the small girl’s expression harden, her eyes icy.
So he laughed even harder: “Too bad… he’s not here… ha ha ha… you’ve all been… toyed with… he’s long gone…”
