Lord Evolution: Starting With SS-rank Skills - Chapter 270

Chapter 270: The Cult (40)
“Shove your proposal into your black asses!”

D’andre rejected the proposal rudely, provoking varied reactions from both teams: Dragun and the other captives heaved out surprised gasps, while the cultists gritted their teeth in fury, clearly enraged by D’andre’s blatant disrespect toward their bosses.

Xandros and Alister smirked on the other hand, it was as if they had been secretly hoping all along that he would reject their proposal.

“That is great, we will not force you to accept our offer, but are you aware of what befell the very few individuals who rejected our proposals in the past? We kill them! And not merely kill – we slaughter them without mercy!”

Xandros taunted with a grin.

While his words seemed to serve as boastful intimidation meant to nullify D’andre’s disrespect, only Dragun—who had long been within the cult—understood that they were not bluffing, those who had acted righteously in refusing the cult’s evil proposal were, regrettably, no longer among the living. Dragun could only pray fervently that D’andre would not meet the same fate as those unfortunate, righteous individuals.

“I thought too highly of the cult of Ember Justice. I never expected you guys to be this annoyingly talkative.

Well, I don’t really care. Will you allow me to remove these people peacefully, or will you be foolish enough to instigate a fight?”

D’andre demanded rudely.

The cultists became even more furious, their fists clenched and their eyes shone with sparks of indignation.

Alister smiled slyly and gracefully raised his right hand.

“Attack.”

He spoke casually.

Upon hearing his command, the cultists roared in anger and surged forward to charge toward their adversaries.

D’andre issued a succinct order to the spy knights, who already looked more than prepared to engage with the cultists.

The spy knights, grasping their brilliant swords, zapped out of the gathering and boldly clashed with the oncoming attacks.

CLANG!

BOOM!

CLASH!

In mere seconds, the battlefield resounded with the clamor of clashes between the eight spy knights and hundreds of cultists.

“Those of you strong enough to fight, step forward and aid the spy knights. This is your sole chance for survival, you must take it seriously and battle with all your might. I will personally deal with those two archmages.”

D’andre declared this to the captives, who were currently torn between fleeing and bravely standing up against the very people who had kept them captive against their will.

Approximately 50% of them resolved to provide assistance, while the others opted to remain behind and await the outcomes, praying earnestly that the battle’s result would be in their favor.

This, however, appeared unlikely, as the number of spy knights safeguarding them had diminished from eight to seven, with two suffering severe wounds.

“I will make you pay for tearing me away from my family!”

“Even if I die, I would do so while taking one of you with me!”

The courageous captives charged forward.

Curses and resounding chants reverberated through the air.

Magic circles materialized, and very shortly thereafter, spells imbued with various elements streaked toward the cultists.

The brave captives abandoned their positions and rallied alongside the spy knights.

Rowan and Eliman entered the fray together. Before joining his new ally in the attack, Rowan entrusted Riela to Dragun’s care.

“Crimson curse!”

Eliman bellowed the incantation of his spell as he leapt into and landed amid the cultists.

Dozens swiftly shifted their focus to him, intoning spells while those armed with magical weapons—such as scythes and daggers—advanced ever closer to launch their attack.

But it was already far too late.

A red, fog-like substance began emanating from Eliman’s body.

Within mere seconds, the crimson, foggy substance enveloped dozens of cultists.

For the initial split second, they felt nothing, and their attacks continued unabated.

And then…

“COUGH COUGH!”

“My chest… COUGH, I can’t breathe!”

“Why can’t I move my hands?”

“What is happening to me?”

“Ahhh”

Dozens of the cultists encircling Eliman began collapsing to the ground. Some sank to their knees while convulsively coughing up unhealthy mouthfuls of blood, some simply clasped their chests with trembling hands and struggled to catch their breath, a few bled profusely from every facial orifice, and others became completely unable to see.

“My crimson curse spell wasn’t meant to be so impressive, but thanks to your ample mana pool, I have become stronger, and so has my spell!”

Eliman grinned mockingly as he strolled over to one of the cultists and snatched his scythe from the man’s feeble grasp.

Without wasting a moment, he wielded the scythe and decapitated the weakened cultist with ease.

Then he advanced to another and performed the same swift act as quickly as possible.

The red, fog-like substance lingered — and being its user, he was naturally unaffected by the crimson curse.

But this could not be said for the other cultists who rushed into the red fog in an attempt to rescue their comrades. They were quickly met with the same abrupt weakness as their fallen counterparts.

Eliman found it relatively easy to finish them off, although he also had to deflect long-range spells hurled at him by the unaffected cultists.

“That is an impressive spell!”

Rowan remarked as he observed his friend slay their mutual enemies using a spell he had never before witnessed or imagined. He stood amidst several headless cultists, his two equipped swords dripping with fresh blood.

“You foolish bastard! How dare you attempt an escape?”

Two cultists stepped onto the carpet of corpses and launched an attack on Rowan.

But in the very next second, Rowan vanished from his spot as if he had teleported, leaving the two cultists disoriented as they hurried to locate his new position.

“I’m foolish?”

Rowan’s voice echoed from behind them.

They both reacted swiftly, turning rapidly in his direction and loudly chanting their spells.

“Dark fist!”

“Dark blast!”

A fist composed of dark matter and a spherical mass of dark energy materialized and surged toward the source of the voice.

Unfortunately, Rowan proved far swifter than the combined speed of their spells.

He evaded with ease and swung his sword at their feet while assuming a squatting position.

Both cultists experienced a sharp pain.

In the following second, they found themselves on the floor, atop the corpse of their fallen comrades, their eyes locking with Rowan’s piercing ocean-blue gaze.

And then, in the very next moment, their heads involuntarily detached from their bodies.

[ Slayed X2 Foe, +23000 ]

[ 100x Reward activated | You’ve received 2,300,000 ]

“Was expecting more.”

Rowan scoffed as he wiped the blood off the dark robes of the dead cultist.

He rose and surveyed the blood-soaked battlefield.

The battle raged with an almost boiling intensity every single second.

The forces of evil still held the upper hand in sheer numbers.

Although dozens had been killed, hundreds still remained standing and actively engaged in combat.

Regarding the captives, Rowan could observe up to five corpses, while others were desperately crawling away from their pursuers, bearing ghastly injuries.

Even Rowan, who usually strove to remain hopeful in such dire circumstances, found his hope diminishing upon witnessing the current state of affairs.

He looked back.

Riela was still concealed behind Dragun.

The other captives still observed with fear and uncertainty in their eyes, he could see their mouths moving, uttering whispered prayers.

“Where is D’andre?”