Chapter Thirty: Traps, Ambushes, and Raids (Please Vote for Recommendations)

In the blink of an eye, I had already fallen to fifth place, and there seemed to be no end to the onslaught. Fellow readers, I beg you for recommendation votes. I’m a member of the 3K club; I can’t rely on mass updates to earn points like those in the 2K club—I can only ask for your recommendations. So please, give me as many as you can, help me withstand the pressure!

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“So, you’re saying that Neil Night, despite having killed Dorondo and the scouts we sent to test him, is now gravely wounded and lying unconscious?” In the temporary headquarters of the Allied Forces of the Temple of the Berserker and the Cult of the War God, Martin narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Darian and Alonzo.

Darian immediately nodded. “Yes, we’ve confirmed it. The Father God Church is in complete chaos right now. Without Link, the rest of them are nothing but a disorderly mob.”

Alonzo chimed in from the side, “That’s right, gentlemen. I’ve gone out to investigate myself, along with the others. It’s said that Link’s injuries are very serious; not a single renowned doctor in town can help him. Jack Sparrow has already sent people to other cities to fetch more physicians.”

Upon hearing this, Dubai, who had been silent all this while, let out a wicked grin. “Excellent. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I know well the power of the Cathedral of the Holy Light: you must be conscious and pray devoutly for it to be effective—if you’re unconscious, it’s useless. Besides, even if he recovers, it doesn’t matter. If those weaklings like Dorondo could injure him so badly, how strong could he possibly be? We could send any few of our men to finish him off. Father Martin, let’s act tonight and wipe out that thorn in our side—the Father God Church—in one fell swoop!”

Martin glanced at Dubai, then pondered for a moment. “You’re right, Father Dubai, but I can’t help feeling that something is off. Everything’s going a little too smoothly—suspiciously so.”

“Off? What could be off? Our plan is meticulous. Isn’t success the natural outcome? Or do you think a sixteen-year-old brat could be so cunning? Or is it, Father Martin, that you intend to push all the responsibility onto us, the Cult of the War God, and use us as your pawns?” As he spoke, Dubai’s expression grew menacingly dark. Since his recent humiliation, his temperament had grown ever more twisted, and he was quick to assume the worst whenever things went awry.

As an old adversary and temporary ally, the shrewd Martin could easily see the change in Dubai. This was not the moment for a confrontation, so he simply smiled. “You’re overthinking, Father Dubai. Rest assured, we’ll never leave the Cult of the War God to face the Father God Church alone.” He paused, then added, “You’re right—perhaps I am overthinking it. Neil Night is just a sixteen-year-old youth. No matter how clever, he’s still only a child. Very well—let’s act tonight. We must eliminate the Father God Church in one decisive strike!”

At this, Dubai’s expression brightened and he grinned with satisfaction. “Hahaha, Father Martin, you have admirable resolve. Tonight, we’ll finish the Father God Church once and for all. That Neil Night has been far too arrogant lately. It’s time I taught him a lesson—show him how merciless the world of religion can be.” He ended with a sinister smile.

Martin nodded and smiled in agreement, but though he wore a smile, his eyes were full of mockery. Clearly, he no longer took his increasingly unstable old rival seriously.

“Once we’ve dealt with the Father God Church, the Temple of the Berserker will have no rivals left in Kinko Town. And then, once I take care of this fellow and the Cult of the War God, the day I ascend to bishop is not far off.” The thought filled Martin’s heart with excitement, his smile growing ever more radiant as his lingering doubts melted away.

Time slipped by swiftly as the two factions quietly gathered their forces. Past midnight, when the clock struck twelve, Dubai and Martin appeared on the outskirts of the Father God Church’s territory. Around them, their combined followers watched the direction of the church like wolves eyeing a vulnerable prey.

Meanwhile, the Father God Church seemed as chaotic as it had been during the day, their leader Link still unconscious. Witnessing this, Dubai and Martin were overcome with excitement, convinced their attack was sure to succeed.

Naturally, as leaders, the two took the opportunity to make grand pre-battle declarations, asserting their presence and claiming credit for the coming victory.

They did not realize, however, that while they were making their declarations, Link—within the Cathedral of the Holy Light—was doing the same. The cathedral possessed not only miraculous powers but also excellent soundproofing. Once the doors were shut, it was difficult to hear anything from the outside.

Before Link, Saka, Jack, the Aeolus brothers, and other battle-ready followers had assembled. They already knew that Link had feigned unconsciousness to deceive the enemy and that a great battle was imminent. Thus, everyone present wore grave expressions, their brows furrowed with anxiety and tension.

Link surveyed his congregation and took a deep breath. “You all know that the Temple of the Berserker and the Cult of the War God are conspiring against us. This will be the greatest trial our church has ever faced. Do not pray for the Father God to guide us through hardship, for the great Father God has already revealed to me: this is His test for us. Only by overcoming it can we shoulder even greater burdens. If we fail, Father God, in His infinite power, will redeem the souls of the fallen, granting them eternal happiness in heaven.” He paused, his gaze steady upon the crowd’s mixture of astonishment and joy, and continued in a deep voice, “But do you wish to enjoy this happiness? To accept defeat, to accept death, to endure the agony of being separated from your loved ones, all for the sake of the Father God’s charity? Regardless of your thoughts, I, Neil Night, the Father God’s chosen, do not. I do not wish to face the Father God as a failure, nor to endure the pain of parting from my family. That kind of happiness is no happiness at all!”

His words sent a tremor through the assembly. Many, who had been comforted by the promise of heaven, now wore somber faces, while most looked unwilling to accept defeat. Saka was the first to speak: “Archbishop, I do not wish it either. To betray the Father God’s trust and to be parted from loved ones—there is no happiness in that. If I must choose, I would rather forgo that so-called happiness. Archbishop, rest assured, I can’t speak for the others, but I will fight by your side to the very end. I’ll never let those heretics threaten our faith!”

As Saka finished, the congregation’s spirits were ignited. One after another, they echoed Saka’s resolve, swearing to destroy their enemies and stand or fall with the Father God Church.

A satisfied smile spread across Link’s face. Even though his followers would have fought to the death without these words, morale had been low. Now, inspired and challenged, their spirits were rekindled.

With that, Link raised his hand, voice ringing with fervor: “Victory will be ours!”

The congregation roared their response: “Victory will be ours!”

Without further delay, Link directed everyone to their positions to prepare for the enemy’s assault. News had just arrived from Bai Ling that the enemy was on the move.

After delivering their own grandiose declarations, Martin and Dubai could wait no longer and ordered their men to launch the attack. It was a night made for killing, and by morning, the Father God Church would be no more. Even if their followers learned of it later, it would be too late.

With the church gone, faith loses its meaning.

Such is the merciless nature of the religious world.

Once the main fighting force had moved out, Link ordered all non-combatants to take shelter in the Cathedral of the Holy Light. The cathedral was sturdy enough to withstand an assault for some time. Besides, Darian and others had said the Temple of the Berserker and the Cult of the War God would not storm the cathedral. First, the building’s spiritual pressure against outsiders filled them with dread. Second, they coveted the cathedral’s miraculous abilities to heal wounds and dispel all ailments.

These people, not believing in the Father God and attributing miracles to some ancient artifact, would never destroy such a treasure without reason.

Thus, until the battle ended, it was safest to remain within the Cathedral of the Holy Light.

The battle began quickly—one could say it was forced to begin. The enemy moved along ‘safe’ routes provided by Darian and company, where a multitude of traps had been laid.

Pitfalls, spike traps, javelins, spring-loaded bamboo spears—even in places where there hadn’t been time for traps, the ground was strewn with beans and flammable material.

Rushing into what they thought was enemy territory, the allied forces discovered they were surrounded by traps. Having planned a surprise attack, they had not brought torches, so could only rely on moonlight. In the darkness, chaos erupted—many died or were injured, their agonized screams piercing the night.

The leaders shouted desperately for calm, and their voices did help stabilize the situation. But just then, the Father God Church’s warriors, who had been lying in wait, emerged. Those skilled with the bow fired flaming arrows into the fuel-soaked areas, igniting great blazes that lit up the darkness and set many enemies alight—creating a dozen or more shrieking figures in flames.

The fire not only caused casualties but threw the barely stabilized enemy back into confusion. This time, no amount of shouting could restore order.

Worse still, the flames and traps had scattered the enemy into disjointed groups, crippling their ability to mount a coordinated attack.

Seeing this, Jack, who had been lying in wait in the grass, led his men in a charge. These were all street toughs, well-practiced in brawls and sneak attacks. Even without formal ranks, in such chaos, they could hold their own against first-tier fighters.

As for stronger enemies, Jack and his men would not have to handle them. Link himself, joined by Saka and Aeolus—the church’s two young powerhouses—charged into the fray.

During this time, both Saka and Aeolus had been diligently practicing the Nine Yang Divine Art. With newfound wealth, Link had also spared no expense in providing the talented with resources. Now, Saka had mastered the first three levels of the Nine Yang Divine Art and reached the peak of the first rank. Aeolus, having started later, had reached the second level, putting him at the late stage of the first rank.

Together, they stood a strong chance even against ordinary second-rank fighters. On such a chaotic battlefield, their effectiveness was multiplied, inflicting heavy losses on the enemy.

As for Link, there was no need to elaborate—he was now the greatest martial artist in Kinko Town, unrivaled within a hundred miles. Under his lead, the three of them tore through enemy ranks like tigers among sheep, unstoppable, with no one able to withstand even a single exchange—especially as the three always ganged up on one opponent at a time. Who could possibly hold out against that?

This, in fact, was why Saka had objected to Link’s plan—after setting so many traps, they still ganged up three-on-one for the ambush. It seemed to lack the dignity of a true powerhouse, more like street thugs brawling in the dark.