Whether they were ordinary Hornsent or battle-hardened Warriors, the power they had once taken such pride in, the power with which they had ravaged the land, now seemed so small, fragile, and absurd.
This was undoubtedly a massacre beyond all mercy. That cold executioner was like a demon from the depths of hell, bringing them endless destruction and death.
Belurat had long since been blasted open by the furious thunderbolts that fell like divine wrath, leaving behind an enormous pit whose bottom could not be seen.
Blinding scarlet blood poured endlessly from its broken body, flowing into the soil beneath like trickling streams and gathering into winding, blood-red channels.
Flying dust, hazy white mist, and scattered, mangled limbs tangled together, forming a terrifying scene filled with brutal, grotesque violence.
When that chilling picture reached its peak and finally froze in that heart-stopping instant, Nolan's gaze happened to fall on the last living horned figure.
He extended a slender finger and pointed straight at the young Hornsent.
The young man's eyes, already filled with terror, hid behind the gaps between the tangled horns on his head.
Trembling, he peered at the man before him, whose cold pupils seemed capable of freezing all things in the world.
The young Hornsent's heartbeat quickened beyond his control. He let out a heart-rending roar and staggered backward in panic, no longer caring whether this might profane the gods he worshiped or the Faith he had upheld.
He only wanted to flee. His twisted, jagged horns scraped frantically against the muddy ground, kicking up filthy dust and bits of gravel. The sacred symbol was defiled so easily.
A terrifying yet gentle light flickered faintly at the silver-haired man's fingertips. As if he held authority over life and death itself, he calmly sent the power called "Death" inch by inch into the body of the person before him.
No matter how that person struggled, resisted, or begged for mercy with a face full of terror, nothing could change this settled fate.
At last, under the light's relentless, stubborn piercing, the Hornsent's body could no longer endure it and shattered instantly into countless tiny fragments, scattering through the air like dust.
From existence to nothingness, that dazzling pillar of light seemed to have completed its task, fading silently into the void without leaving the slightest trace.
The sky of the Land of Shadow was a dark yellow, as if covered by a thick haze, dull and listless.
The faint light filtering through the gray clouds was like a thin veil, gently draped over the earth.
But that small amount of light brought no warmth and could not drive away the cold. A chill wind howled in from the lakeshore, stirring up dust and fallen leaves from the ground and sending them flying wildly.
The cold wind was like an icy blade, easily piercing through clothing and scraping across skin. It made a chill seem to follow the light itself, passing through the chest and sinking deep into the membrane around the heart, making one shiver uncontrollably.
Trina instinctively hugged the man beside her, the one who gave off light and heat, as if only by doing so could she withstand the bone-piercing cold.
Her petite body pressed tightly against the man's broad back, seeking a trace of comfort and protection.
Tower Settlement, once bustling and prosperous, had now been completely reduced to ruins by this man's devastation.
Broken walls lay scattered everywhere, smoke and dust filled the air, and the songs once raised in praise of the gods were long gone.
In the southeastern corner of the ruins, a dark, deep opening extended up from beneath the earth, like a gaping mouth devouring everything around it.
Nolan stood silently before the tunnel, his feet seeming nailed in place, unable to move another step forward.
He had been stopped. Not by a person, but by something else. Something that originally had nothing to do with him.
"I remember there being a dungeon east of Tower Settlement, but I've never set foot there. I've only heard a few rumors. Some say it is a sacred place that can turn 'bad people' into 'good people.'"
Those were the exact words the ever-restless Empyrean Miquella told Nolan after seeing this place.
Judging from the current situation, the fighting had exposed the entrance leading underground.
After circling the area and confirming that every Hornsent in Tower Settlement had been wiped out, Nolan went straight into the underground passage. A stale, rotten stench immediately rushed into his nose.
The hard stone walls were covered in grooves and cracks. Every corner of the walls and the exposed, fragile wooden stakes bore damage, and the uneven floor looked as if it had been plowed over by a cavalry formation.
Destruction on this scale was not something ordinary people could have caused in a single night. If it had not been a Lord and gods who ravaged this city last night, then it could only have been a group of colossal beasts.
Before he realized it, Nolan, the very source of the destruction, had arrived before an elevator.
He stepped onto the somewhat worn mechanism. With a slight tremor, the elevator carried him deeper underground.
When it finally reached the bottom and he walked through the arched stone doorway, Nolan stopped.
But this time, what made him halt was not the shock of the broken walls and ruined scene before him.
He had seen destruction far crueler and more complete than this. It was only that the large jars before his eyes kept giving off sorrowful sounds almost like pleading, as if they were struggling desperately and crying for help.
The air was filled with the lingering scent of blood, mixed with a pain that refused to fade. With just one breath, he could smell that thick reek of fresh blood, like blood bursting out after a blade cut through skin.
If he listened more carefully, he could even hear the miserable wails of innocent people sinking into an abyss of suffering, and the cold, merciless sound of some beast-like thing swinging a blade through the air.
Nolan seemed to see a nauseating play unfolding before him.
A group of so-called "Chosen Ones," with twisted horns growing from their heads, smugly forcing "sinners" who did not believe in the gods to cleanse their sins through cruel means.
Nolan heard the sound of pottery breaking, and someone emerged from one of the large jars.
She appeared to be a woman. She had white hair, but no skin. Her crimson flesh was exposed, and her whole body seemed wrapped in a massive lump of meat.
"A Living Vessel?" Miquella frowned at the sight and murmured beside him.
But soon, he gently shook his head and rejected his first guess. "No... it doesn't seem to be."
A Living Vessel was a common yet unnatural existence, a vessel with life that could move like a human.
Yet although this woman had emerged from a vessel, she was clearly more like a flesh-and-blood living being.