Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

A sense of foreboding suddenly rose in the Soul Eater's heart. It dodged Leslaufer's fierce attack and looked around. The arena was still the same arena, but at some point, the surrounding area of ​​this underground space was lit up with surging holy energy.

This is a trap! A trap capable of utterly annihilating demons in the material world! And to destroy it, its source must be destroyed—Heinrich! No wonder he's in such a terrible state!

"Kill him!" The Soul Eater could no longer contain its ferocity. It flapped its wings and took flight, trying to avoid the airborne Raslaufer and go straight for Heinrich. However, the latter retreated behind the priests of the Serak Church at this moment. Raslaufer, behind the demon, whistled again, and a sense of crisis several times clearer than before locked onto the flying demon once more.

A machine, a machine equipped with a massive ballista, raised its enchanted, terrifying arrowheads from behind the Church of Serak. On either side of it, accompanied by the synchronized thud of armor, three hundred mercenaries lined up in front of the priests, blocking the demons' assault in the passageway.

Behind the ballista, a frail man in a wheelchair, devoid of limbs, stared with shriveled pupils at the Soul Eater in the air, which was trying to dodge the gunfire. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the other's gaze might cost him his life, and muttered to himself:

"This is the first time I've heard of demons training cultists to steal our mercenaries' jobs... But since you don't want us to live..."

"Then you can die first—let him go."

With a command barely audible, the arrows on the ballista flew off the bowstring, ignoring all the Soul Eater's fancy feints and deceptive moves, striking it squarely in the chest and abdomen!

Chapter 453 Quick Cut and Trouble

An ordinary ballista might not be able to do much damage to a Soul Eater in its prime, but what if the bolts from this ballista had just been blessed by several bishops of different churches? What if this Soul Eater wasn't in its prime?

The demon screamed and plummeted from mid-air like a bird with broken wings. The hastily constructed protective energy in front of it was smashed to pieces, barely protecting its user from being pinned to the ground by a crossbow bolt.

But whatever the outcome, its death was inevitable.

"Loading," the man in the wheelchair seemed oblivious to the demons in his eyes. He sat there like a stick without hands or feet, mechanically and precisely issuing each command, "Teams 1, 4, and 7, move up; Teams 2, 5, and 8, prepare; Teams 3, 6, and 9, retreat and rest."

He divided the mercenaries into three groups, who advanced in shifts while providing cover for each other, holding off the remaining demons' onslaught and buying enough time for the spellcasters of the Church of Serak and the ballistae behind them. These mercenaries were far more powerful than the rat swarm; although ordinary weapons were still insufficient to kill most of the demons, there were clearly some formidable figures among them wielding two-handed greatswords.

Their weapons are no ordinary objects; whenever a troublesome demon charges, they immediately step in and use their superb martial arts to once again thwart the demon's offensive.

It is obvious that these are all Reslaufer's closest peers in the narrowest sense. Even if they are not as powerful as Reslaufer, they are still a force to be reckoned with under proper formation and command—at least far beyond ordinary people.

Meanwhile, as the Soul Eater fell, the pressure around Raslaufer eased dramatically. The remaining demons, though fearless, were ultimately only "fearless" rather than "incapable." Under Raslaufer's blade, the only end for these fallen souls, who could no longer return to the abyss, was to face their irreversible death.

Meanwhile, a small figure moved among the demons beside Leslaufer, occasionally summoning a flaming arrow from its hand or using its sharp claws and tail spikes to attack the Quass demons that were about the same size as itself.

"Try this, this! And this!" Barbasabalon, who had been feigning death in Heinrich's hands, was now showing no signs of weakness. Instead, it joined the slaughter of the demons with great vigor. "Hehe! You bunch of wingless crippled fools!"

Its arrogance quickly met its end. Just as it swooped down again, attempting to attack the neck of a cultist, the light and shadow suddenly shifted as the deadly venomous stinger pierced a blood vessel in the side of the neck, on the shoulder of the mortal who had died. A Quassa demon emerged from its stealth state, howling as it pounced on Barbasabalone's body, opening its mouth to bite.

"Bang!" In the blink of an eye, a biting, cold wind swept over the little devil's head and landed on the Quassa demon's body, instantly withering the frail, petite body into a shriveled husk. Barbasabalon turned his head in fear, only to see the back of a head with short, graying hair.

"Quack! You saved me!" Barbasabalon's eyes widened. "You're such a good person, but good people don't live long! However, Barbasabalon has a way, as long as you sign the soul contract—"

“I advise you not to provoke him,” Raslaufer said. There were no other living demons around him at this moment. He dragged his battle sword, which was covered with layers of pus and blood, and grabbed the little devil’s body. “Be careful, or he might pull your tongue out.”

“Oh, Master, you are truly a genius!” Barbasabalon immediately flattered. “How did you know I was threatened by him like that? But… oh dear, Master—”

Leslaufer applied a little force, and the little devil immediately began to feign a pitiful cry: "But master, you may not understand! Souls like his are extremely hard to find! What if he really agrees? He could be worth three, no, ten meaningless souls! And if he doesn't do that, he'll probably only live for another twenty years at most, which is truly pathetic for a spellcaster, isn't it?"

While the lifespan of ordinary humans rarely exceeds one hundred years, spellcasters often gain much more. Even without relying on evil methods such as transforming liches, living an extra half a century to a century is entirely possible. In contrast, living to seventy or eighty years old is considered a premature death.

"But if it can lead to greater continuity, such a small loss is negligible."

Heinrich's voice came from afar, growing louder as he approached. Over 90% of the demons had already been annihilated; those remaining were merely struggling in their death throes, unable to escape their fate.

Now, there is only one problem to deal with—that Soul-Eating Demon.

"You can't kill me, ha..." The demon struggled to prop itself up, with at least ten bishops around it capable of summoning divine intervention, leaving it no chance of escape. But even so, it had no intention of surrendering. "Think about it! Why am I here? I'm here on a mission!"

"Let me go back, and I'll sign a contract with you and never bother you again! So what if you kill me here? Are you going to send someone stronger instead?"

"Giant Bull Demon, Flame Demon... how far do you think you can hold out? You can't kill me, you dare not kill me!"

There's a reason why the Endless Abyss is called Endless. Even an existence like the Soul Eater is far from being among the strongest. If there is a more powerful being behind it driving all of this, then what it says certainly makes sense.

Among those who escaped the final purge, some began to hesitate. Even within the deeply affected Church of Serak, some began to back down, trying to persuade others to sign a pact with the demon in order to protect Ironforge from further harm from the abyss.

Heinrich simply stood before the heavily wounded Soul Eater, his expression cold, completely refusing to participate in the discussion concerning the survival of Ironforge.

Although he was the most authoritative scholar, and although he was lauded by the masses and enjoyed unparalleled prestige, Heinrich knew that all of this was given to him by them. In such matters, his voice carried no more weight than that of a bishop, and it was utterly ineffective in determining the outcome.

When it comes to the future of a city, hundreds of thousands of residents—and likely even more far-reaching implications—it's completely unrealistic to treat things like voting as child's play.

Looking at the priests arguing endlessly, Raslaufer suddenly found it somewhat amusing. It was as if the demon was also giving him and Heinrich a mocking smile.

If wag your tongue and you can escape death, then orators would be among the hardest to kill. But is that really the case?

We all only have one life.

He stepped forward, stepping on the demon's body. He bent down, grabbed the Soul Eater's head with both hands, and squeezed it.

A hideous head, along with half a spine, remained in his hands.

Chapter 454 The Conflict Continues

"Damn it, what are you doing?!"

"Who gave you permission to do this?! Are you going to let the entire city be buried with a demon?!"

In an instant, all eyes were on Raslaufer. Barbasabalone had already hidden himself; all they saw was a mercenary covered in blood. Those who supported sparing the demon's life immediately roared in anger.

But there are also people who stand on Reslaufer's side.

"You bunch of fools! Can you even believe the words of a demon? Expecting a demon to keep its promises is worse than waiting to die—at least you'll come back to life!" Brandon's eyes were bloodshot with rage. "Look around you! How many people have died at the hands of demons! What makes you think these maggots are trustworthy?!"

“Brandon, that’s enough,” Heinrich frowned, and with a sigh, called the young priest to his side. “Most of the people here are your elders. Show them some respect.”

"But teacher—"

"I've said enough."

Brandon Fry paused for a moment, then understood the gist of it, but in the end he still shook his head: "Teacher, I know you don't want me to have any stain on my reputation, you don't want me to offend anyone. But what I want to say is, if anyone here today deserves a stain, it's not me, but these insects who just dared to hope for compromise!"

"If I have to remain silent or even compromise with them for their sake, how can I inherit your mantle and continue to fight against the demons that have tainted this world? Then everything will become meaningless!"

"Since I'm standing here today, I'm going to support what's right!"

As Brandon stood there, those around him instinctively made way for him, especially those who held opposing views, who wished they could stay far away, fearing that if Ironforge were ever to fall under the devil's clutches again, they might be implicated with Brandon.

“Well said, young man.” However, fewer people did this than those who had been arguing earlier, while those who had remained silent before sided with the supporters. As the crowd parted, a dozen people wearing rat masks escorted their cats to the center of the dispute, beside the headless demon corpse.

Wearing a cat-face mask, Calliste looked at Heinrich and Brandon, master and apprentice, without caring about the stares around her, before finally turning her horned head toward Reislaufer.

"You humans aren't as enlightened as I am; look at my horns and tail. But you know what? There's one thing this little fellow is right about:"

"You'd be better off waiting to die than believing in demons. At least death will come—and he's right here—otherwise, who do you think summoned us here to wipe out these demons?"

She made a graceful "please" gesture, then stepped aside to give way to the center position, highlighting the almost entirely dark red Doppler behind her. Behind her, Angelita also quickly ran towards Paul, standing behind Reslaufer.

The group exchanged glances. Most of them hadn't actually received any news about Barbasabalone; the little devil had only informed Heinrich, and it was the demonologist who had invited them here. Therefore, they all assumed that Heinrich was the mastermind behind everything.

“But so what?” someone protested. “This gentleman did help us defend against this demonic invasion, and we are grateful to him! But he shouldn’t have done this! It was both short-sighted and reckless!”

"The gentlemen here are all men of great wisdom; we should heed their advice—"

"Shouldn't we invite the lords and nobles of Ironforge over for a more thorough discussion?" Raslaufer, carrying the demon's spine in one hand and a sword in the other, slowly approached the speaker. He walked so slowly that the crowd had ample time to react and back away, exposing the priest who had spoken to Dupler.

"Uh," the man instinctively shrank his neck, his voice involuntarily becoming softer, "Logically speaking... it should be..."

“I thought that once the dust settled, I could avoid a lot of talking,” Leslaufer shook his head, “but it seems that it will still be a lot of work, so I’ll just say a few words.”

Doble, whose appearance was no less than that of a demon, stopped and scanned the crowd around him: "Most of the people here make a living as mercenaries, and I don't like using stupid nicknames, so it's normal that most of you don't know me. Let me introduce myself, I am 'Death'."

"So the conclusion is obvious: I'm here, I did it, and anyone who objects will die here—it's that simple."

The creaking of the ballista's mechanical parts was aimed at the crowd ahead, while the mercenaries who had just been protecting the spellcasters now bared their claws at them, proving that Raslaufer's words were true.

Meanwhile, an even larger swarm of rats had somehow occupied all the passageways and high ground in the arena, and short bows and crossbows were now taut!

He really wanted to kill them here! Perhaps the rats and mercenaries' weapons were not enough to harm the demon, but taking them down would be a piece of cake!

"You're a madman!" The priest in front of Leslaufer almost jumped up. "If you really do this, how are you any different from the devil?!"

“There is no difference,” Dubler said, his expression unchanged. “So we will announce to the outside world that you died at the hands of the devil.”

"Or perhaps we should invite all the gentlemen from the castle and manor here as well, and do it even more thoroughly. What do you all think?"

"Your Excellency Heinrich, this—"

Some immediately turned to demonologists, seeking their support. But they received an even colder response: "Those who attempt to make peace with demons are no different from demons themselves."

Heinrich's warhammer disappeared, but he raised his hand, extending an index finger to point to the dome of the arena, drawing everyone's attention to the massive magic circle that had not yet been removed—a circle originally intended to prevent demons from returning to the abyss.

"Those who believe they are acting for the sake of Ironforge's rise and fall, and whoever could have made a pact with that Soul Eater, can step forward and accept the judgment—if they do, they can be resurrected, and the hidden cultists will be exposed."

"Is there anyone willing to try and prove their unwavering faith?"

Whether one's faith is firm or not has absolutely nothing to do with whether one is stupid or not!

Upon hearing Heinrich's words, everyone's expression changed. They were all spellcasters; even those without Heinrich's level of skill understood the principles of the magic circle—under this judgment, everyone could be considered a cultist!

This is an open threat!

But it did work. With Heinrich, who had just remained silent, suddenly speaking out, the opponents found that not only the rats and mercenaries, but even the other spellcasters were looking at them with hostility! Anyone who still insisted on their original ideas at this point would be the biggest fool in the world!

Since that demon is already dead, why not... just leave it at that?

Chapter 455 The Demonologist's Invitation

With the outcome accepted, most people quickly turned their attention to the demons, whether dead or alive. The demon corpses and their parts could be used for various purposes, but were usually difficult to obtain. This time, they had reaped a considerable harvest. At this juncture, Reislaufer, Heinrich, and others finally had a chance to discuss other topics.

“Weapons are always useful,” the demonologist nodded to Leslaufer. “Did you consider this when you asked for help? You have more helpers than I could find—and you even brought… siege equipment.”

The demonologist spoke with considerable complexity. Ballistae are large machines that are not easily obtained; both assembly and transportation present significant challenges. There is only one possible explanation.

"You anticipated all of this and even had people preparing countermeasures?"

“I don’t have that much time for that,” Reslaufer shrugged, gesturing for Heinrich to look at the man in the wheelchair. “Come meet this man, he is… well, the liaison for most of the mercenaries and chapters in Eastern Inassassins. Sorry, as you can see, he looks so distinctive that I can’t even remember his real name.”

“Duncan, or you can call me ‘human stick’,” the seemingly extremely weak man grinned. “Sir Heinrich, I have long admired your name. Over the years, many of my colleagues have received your ‘care’.”

This kind of care is probably closely related to the courts and trials.

“Just doing my duty,” the demonologist nodded to the other person, not intending to excuse himself. “You’ve seen it too; what I was worried about wasn’t unfounded.”

“That’s true, so I don’t intend to continue this topic,” Duncan, who was only a torso, replied calmly. “As for the ballista, it wasn’t originally intended for demons, nor was it intended for you. There was a little rascal named Scheinhailig who tried to ruin our business, so we had to prepare for the worst.”

"Someone like me who can't even take care of himself won't even have the chance to be 'chaotic' if he doesn't plan things out properly."

Seeing that the tense atmosphere had subsided, the bard quietly peeked out from behind Leslaufer, looking curiously at the man who could no longer be described simply as "disabled": "Mr. Duncan, no offense intended, but how did you get this...?"

“I’m a mercenary, need I say more?” Duncan turned his head, and his servant immediately understood, lighting a cigarette and putting it in his mouth. “Don’t look at me like this now, I used to charge into battle alongside ‘death’.”

“But you’re really not cut out for this,” Leslaufer scoffed. “Do you want me to count how many times I’ve saved you? That’s not hard, after all, that number hasn’t increased in years—every time you lose a part, and I still can’t figure out how you dared to get ahead of me!”

“Theory, theory is always wonderful,” the stick-man laughed awkwardly, then took two deep drags to relieve the pain from his countless old wounds. “But at least now, I can tinker with these things in peace.”

“Being able to meet a legendary figure among mercenaries makes this trip worthwhile,” Heinrich patted Brandon on the shoulder, implying that he should cultivate a good relationship with him. Then he looked at Callistra on the other side, “This must be the mastermind behind the rat swarm, right? I never imagined that a bunch of rats would take orders from a cat.”

Tifflin had already extinguished the flames inside the shield. Standing beside Raslaufer, she wasn't enthusiastic about Heinrich's statement: "In fact, it's a bunch. Be careful, old man. If pushed too far, the bites of rats and cats can be as deadly as demons."

“If you were a little more restrained, perhaps we wouldn’t need to rush into exterminating the rats,” Heinrich countered. “Why not try to do something within your power? Catch some cockroaches and bedbugs, and maybe I can even suggest getting you some hamster wheels or balls of yarn.”

No one can say for sure how much of this persuasion is genuine, and neither side will discuss it in detail at this moment; it's merely an opportunity for them to get to know each other through Reslaufer's influence.

Meanwhile, Paul's gaze fell on Angelita's longsword: "You mean... that move earlier activated the power of this sword?"

“The complete twelve oaths,” Angelita nodded, still somewhat exhausted. “I don’t know much about the specifics of the Elf King of Kolasund, but I think if he had fully complied with these oaths, then that move he just made was probably the authority he could exercise.”

If she could also swear on everything written here, she should be able to reach that point as well. But she is neither the Elf King nor Patrick.

So at least until she faces a similar situation again, she probably won't be able to use similar power again.

“Not many people can explain what happened in Corazonde,” Paul said with a slight smile, stroking his beard. “There’s no need to worry about that. At least we can rest assured that you have even greater power to protect yourself in this situation.”

Protect more people... those I want to protect. The girl nodded, silently adding to herself.

"...In short, Lord Raslaufer, we should all thank you and your companions for your contributions," Heinrich said, turning back to Raslaufer after dismissing Callistella and Duncan. "However, it seems that what I promised before can no longer be delayed. I see something... very wrong with you."

“How can you help me?” Leslaufer knew that the other party had probably also seen the spirits around him. “You’re probably not in good condition right now.”

"So far, these things haven't done me any harm, so you don't need to rush. Even if I have to wait another month or two, I can accept it perfectly well."

However, Heinrich insisted on his opinion: "Perhaps it can't be solved now, but we must first find out where the problem lies. Besides, aren't you afraid... well, we're probably going to have a hard time finding another land shark here?"

He originally wanted to say that if there were a few more things of the size of the Land Shark Spirit, Reislaufer's spiritual world would probably have a hard time handling them, but that obviously wouldn't be enough to explain the seriousness of the situation to Reislaufer, so Heinrich decided to put it another way.

“Come on, there’s no time like the present. Come to my lab tonight, and I’ll give you a thorough examination to determine exactly what’s wrong,” Heinrich paused, then said in a low voice, “My nose is quite sensitive, and I’m afraid you have more than just this problem, don’t you?”

Chapter 456 Heinrich's Laboratory