The Game Difficulty
Is Crazy
Step— step—
The Canary Knight Order was advancing along the path Glenn had taken.
After much deliberation, the commander, Norman, had forced the march forward, saying, “At the very least, we need to recover Young Master Glenn’s body so we’ll have something to say when we go back.”
Of course, since the decision had been made thirty minutes after Glenn went ahead, if someone asked whether there would even be a body left, there would be nothing he could say.
Their actions were nothing more than a way to ease their guilty consciences.
They were not evil people. Deep down, it bothered them that they had simply stood there and watched their lord rush alone into a place of death.
Even though the decision was far too late.
In any case, the once-stationary Canary Knight Order advanced toward the deepest part of the restricted zone with tense expressions.
But what soon greeted them were nothing but the corpses of monsters scattered all throughout the mine tunnels.
“What on earth happened…?”
Faced with the unbelievable sight, Norman could not hide his confusion.
There was no doubt that Glenn was strong.
He had personally witnessed Glenn slaughter dozens of giant coal rats by himself.
Judging by that alone, Glenn’s strength had to be on par with Norman, the vice-captain of the order, at 5-star—or even higher.
However, no matter how strong an individual was, facing hundreds of monsters alone was close to impossible.
‘Of course, there are people in this world strong enough to purge monsters by themselves.’
But that kind of feat was something only knight commanders or heads of great houses could pull off.
If an ordinary person tried to imitate it, they would be taking a one-way trip to the underworld.
There was a reason Norman, a 5-star holy knight, had brought knights with him, distributed weapons, and formed formations.
Yet the scene unfolding before his eyes was blatantly overturning all of that common sense.
‘How can something this absurd even be possible?’
Denying reality, Norman hastened his advance, but everywhere he went, all he saw were traces of monsters slaughtered by a single boy.
And when they reached the wide cavern at the very deepest part of the restricted zone, they could no longer deny it.
As if at a loss for words, Norman’s dry lips trembled slightly.
‘I… can’t deny it.’
Glenn Wordsworth had single-handedly annihilated the hundreds of monsters swarming the restricted zone.
“Is something like this really possible?”
Suddenly, Norman recalled the conversation he had shared with Glenn at the entrance of the mine.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard that you told your father you would wipe out the monsters down to the last seed.”
“Yes. I did.”
“But even the head of the Wordsworth family, a 7-star holy knight, could not eradicate the monsters completely.”
“Ah, that story. To put it simply, I’m different from my father.”
“Different? What do you mean by that?”
“Because the god is with me.”
Now, that confident smile felt downright chilling.
Blood was splattered everywhere.
The owners of that blood were the followers of the Black Cult.
The battle itself had not lasted long.
“Gaaah… my leg!”
“B-Bishop, please spare me!”
“It hurts… w-who… please…”
No one had died.
But not a single one of them still had all four limbs intact.
Some had both arms severed, others had an arm and a leg cleanly cut off.
What they all had in common was that they lay on the floor with terrified eyes, screaming and crying in pain from their severed limbs.
It was truly a scene straight out of hell.
And at the center of that hellish scene stood Glenn, his eyes cold and lifeless.
“Keuk, keuk… krrk, cough!”
The bishop coughed up blood and laughed.
He had fought Glenn with everything he had, at around a 3-star level, but that was all.
Defeated by Glenn, who had not even used holy power or demonic energy, he had lost both arms and both legs.
“Do you think this will end with us falling into the hands of the Minnis Church?”
Glenn silently looked down at the dying bishop.
“We are… cough! nothing more than the tip of the iceberg. Already, seeds of the god Kalungod have been planted all across this land.”
“I know. That’s why I deal with you every time you fall into my hands, like today.”
That way, when the Black Cult began its full-scale activities in the mid-stage of the scenario, it would be far less troublesome to deal with them.
“Meaning… keuk, keuk, keuk… less. Our god… will surely descend.”
“Want to hear something interesting?”
Glenn lowered himself and met the bishop’s gaze.
“The god you worship and praise so highly? Among all gods, he’s the weakest one.”
“What kind of… ridiculous nonsense…!”
“Right. I mean, how pathetic does a god have to be to not even have a single power of his own to bestow upon his followers? The reason you use that half-baked demonic energy is because your god is incompetent.”
“Kyaaah! How dare you! Insult the holy god! You bastard! Divine puni— cough! Aren’t you afraid?!”
The sight of him raging with only his torso left looked almost laughable.
Glenn snorted and stood up.
“It’s the truth, but you don’t believe it. Whatever.”
He then mocked the dying bishop with his gaze and walked toward the pit props.
Pit props—wooden pillars that support the mine so it doesn’t collapse.
Standing in front of them, Glenn adjusted his grip on the sword and slowly exhaled.
“W-Wait! What are you trying to do?!”
“D-Don’t!”
“W-We did nothing wrong! We just followed the cult’s teachings!”
Realizing what Glenn was about to do, the dying cultists began to beg.
At a glance, they looked no different from innocent believers being unjustly persecuted for their religion.
“But that argument only works when you’re not part of the Black Cult.”
Glenn knew exactly what they had done.
They kidnapped territory residents weaker than themselves, regardless of age or gender, tied them up, and cut off their limbs while they were still alive.
Holding the entrails in their hands, they shouted that they were offering them to their god.
In the end, they stripped the flesh from the dead sacrifices and cooked and ate them among themselves.
There was not a single innocent person among those lying there begging.
The fact that they wore those dark red robes was proof enough that they had participated in those rituals.
“So don’t complain. Just die.”
He swung his sword down with all his strength.
Thud—!
Because he had not reinforced his body with holy power or demonic energy, it didn’t break in one strike.
Then he would just keep striking until it did.
Thud—
Thud—
Glenn struck the pit prop again and again.
