Dimensional Codex System: I'm really not a cultist!

Chapter 72: Chapter 71: In the Shadow of Darkness

“You did well, it seems that you have secured the item?”

Sitting on a stone chair, a man clad entirely in a black robe, his face bearing a slight smile, watched the mage before him. His attire seemed rather unassuming, even giving the impression that he was merely an ordinary person. However, a single glance at his face would immediately dispel such a mistaken notion.

Underneath the black robe was a face that appeared as if it had been scorched by charcoal, gaunt and yellowed, with patches of hardened skin scattered across his cheeks. As he spoke, the muscles of his face quivered, and between those hardened patches, sparks could faintly be seen emerging. In fact, his whole being resembled a mobile human-shaped furnace, and even getting close to him meant being repelled by the scorching heat he emitted.

This was a Destruction Mage, who had cast aside the shackles of mortality, using their own bodies as a furnace to absorb the endless flames from Hell. Their veins did not carry blood, but magma. And in their chests did not beat hearts, but roiling torrents of flame. In fact, from the moment they absorbed the Hellfire, they ceased to be human and became some sort of terrifying creature composed of the formidable flames of Hell.

“Yes, Master, as you have surmised…”

Upon hearing the Destruction Mage speak, the mage before him respectfully bowed his head. He then reached into his robe and retrieved a peculiar purple crystal ring.

The man was of middle age, quite ordinary in appearance and seemed unremarkable. In contrast to the Destruction Mage, this unassuming-looking man wore an exquisite robe with a white base and golden edges, and on the back was depicted an eagle in flight, its talons tightly grasping a white scale!

If a spellcaster—like Fina—were to see his robe, she would certainly exclaim in surprise. For this emblem was the mark of one of the strongest spellcasting organizations on the continent, and a core member of the Order Alliance—the Tower of Heaven!

This emblem alone was enough to command respect, but to the Destruction Mage, the man before him was nothing more than a disposable pawn.

A foolish betrayer.

Looking at the man before him, a cold smirk emerged in the eyes of the Destruction Mage. While the world may regard the Doomsday Church as greedy and evil, they did not tolerate betrayal. For any believer of the Doomsday Church, deciding to forsake order and embrace chaos and destruction was to make their final choice. They might fight to the death against the guardians of order, but that did not mean they appreciated betrayal against order. To the Destruction Mage, once a person made a choice, they had to take responsibility for their decision. Whether plunging into chaos or embracing order, having made that choice, they must stand by it until the very end.

And anyone who made a choice only to later betray their faith was, in the eyes of Doomsday, untrustworthy—their fickleness proved they lacked true belief. Neither a zeal for destruction nor a sworn defense of order were to be found in them. In fact, such wretches were nothing more than selfish, foolish pawns with some minor usefulness.

They were no Twilight Legion, an organization of weaklings who banded together after betrayal; the sacred path of pilgrimage to Doomsday was not to be defiled. No half-hearted souls were allowed to mingle within, deceiving and masquerading.

The Destruction Mage knew why the man before him had betrayed order: anger-filled revenge, family honor, the loss of loved ones—all these trivial matters. Meaningless in the grand scheme, for those committing to destruction must be prepared for absolute annihilation. Even those without faith would end up facing the same fate. As the Council of the Fallen so aptly put it, no existence can escape death, and before the impending Doomsday, all are equal.

If he did not still require the man’s strength, he would have obliterated this betrayer long ago.

With this thought, the Destruction Mage reined in his internal musings and looked again at the mage before him. He snapped his fingers and soon the ring quietly rose and landed in the Destruction Mage’s hand.

“With this ring, the border’s seal can be lifted. Good, the Doomsday Church will not forget your service—you will certainly obtain everything you desire. Now you may leave, and remember, be punctual in bringing the sacrifice.”

“Thank you, Master, serving you is my honor.”

Hearing the Destruction Mage’s words, the middle-aged man’s face showed a mix of fear and excitement. Suppressing the joy in his heart, he humbly responded before his figure glowed briefly and then the mage vanished into thin air.

As the middle-aged man departed, an almost imperceptible sneer of disdain flashed in the eyes of the Destruction Mage.

Ultimately, it was just the folly of mortals.

Time stopped.

As Fang Zheng leapt out of the bushes, everything froze in place: the wind, shadows, light, even the flickering flames and scattering sparks. He soared through the air like a specter, his Sky-Cleaving Sword tracing a cold gleam before silently piercing the heart of the nearest cultist.

Justice Backstab!

The cultist’s body trembled slightly, yet there was no other reaction. Fang Zheng didn’t care about that; he rolled forward rapidly, simultaneously drawing his longsword and fiercely chopping at another cultist.

Benevolent Slash!

The silver-white blade silently arced through the air, grazing the neck of a cultist, then leapt up like a venomous snake, stabbing into the throat of a third cultist.

Friendly Strike… …alright, I can’t make this up anymore.

Of course, Fang Zheng didn’t dare use any skills. He had stopped time, but time would eventually return to normal. Although he could have unleashed a Divine Storm to blast these guys to dust, the sound of his skill erupting would also carry once the time stop was lifted.

Fortunately, after being enhanced by the Zerg, Fang Zheng’s speed was extraordinarily fast, almost on par with a speed-boosted Jumping Bug. Not to mention, in the world of Dark Soul, Fang Zheng had long learned how to kill his enemies most efficiently. He moved through the cultists as if he was in a realm devoid of people, his flashing sword light graceful and nimble, touching the cultists’ bodies as gently as a breeze. In the blink of an eye, accompanied by the falling silver light, Fang Zheng’s figure silently appeared beside the last cultist, then turned his head to look.

At that moment, time began to flow once again.

“Puchi!!”

Just then, the first cultist that Fang Zheng had stabbed in the heart burst open at the chest, blood spurting out, while the cultist’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but collapsed to the ground, powerless.

This seemed to be the start of a domino effect, as one by one, the cultists silently fell to the ground, lifeless. Their eyes were wide as if they couldn’t believe what had just happened to them. But what these cultists did not know was that they had been dead for dozens of seconds already.

Now, they were just experiencing the process.

Not to mention, it’s quite useful for assassinations.

Looking at the scene before him, Fang Zheng nodded in approval deep inside. Using the Time Ability for assassination was indeed undefendable, and if combined with a poison-dipped dagger, it could be extremely effective. Even if one felt they had dodged it, one could simply bring them back to do it over. Or just as he did, strike them dead in one blow and retreat quietly, with the victim not even having the time to react.

But regardless, all went smoothly.

Sheathing his longsword, Fang Zheng turned and gestured to Fina, who was hiding in the bushes.

Saving people was what mattered.

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