Hutt crumbled under Punk's pressure almost immediately.
Though his confession was reluctant and lacked detail, he carefully framed the Victoria's Secret family as nothing more than unfortunate victims—enough to move a listener to tears if they didn't know better.
But Punk wasn't so easily deceived.
With the aid of prophecy spells, he knew that Hutt's so-called innocence was nonsense. Not that it mattered. Whether Hutt had been tricked or complicit was irrelevant.
The only thing of interest was Tishachar's setup in Dolez.
And now, thanks to this "traitor's" testimony, the entire layout of the Tishachar Church in the city was laid bare.
The plan itself was clever—using Hutt's noble status to cover their tracks, leveraging Zweig's acquisition of the perfume industry to spread the plague, and binding Dolez's aristocracy to their cause.
If Tishachar hadn't lost her mind, it might have worked.
But with their leader spiraling into insanity, the web of influence had collapsed into a noose, exposing the church's presence instead.
Hutt, desperate for survival, betrayed every stronghold and operation the church had in Dolez, convinced that his "sincere" defection would earn Punk's protection.
But he miscalculated.
Punk had never intended to cooperate with this doomed family.
In fact, their downfall was now inevitable—because as soon as the Tishachar Church was dealt with, Punk's plan for plunder would begin.
Ignoring Hutt's desperate attempts to keep him, Punk left the Victoria's Secret estate.
With a single step, he landed atop a high wall, his gaze locking onto the lord's castle in the city's heart.
"It's time to begin."
His cold whisper faded into the night.
Tishachar… and Cascarser.
Punk had taken his payment.
Now it was time for Cascarser to deliver.
Without hesitation, he activated the trap he had laid in advance.
A flicker of gray light flashed across the wall.
In the darkened cityscape, unseen by mortal eyes, something vast and ominous opened its gaze.
Meanwhile, inside the lord's castle, Cascarser had once again begun his futile attempts to persuade Lord Gorat.
But the hedonistic noble was growing impatient.
The only reason he tolerated Cascarser's "reports" at all was that he found the man's persistence annoying.
What Gorat truly wanted was to be rid of these problems altogether.
He was even considering handing all responsibilities to Cascarser just to be left in peace.
It was a mere coincidence.
Punk had no way of knowing how often Cascarser visited Gorat. His entire setup hinged on the two being together at the right moment.
And tonight—
luck was on Punk's side.
Just as Cascarser was mid-sentence, Gorat suddenly froze.
A sharp, agonizing pain erupted in his gut.
Before he could even react, he vomited a mouthful of blood.
A thick, grayish-red liquid splattered across the hall's pristine marble floor, filling the air with a sickly metallic scent.
Punk's trap had been sprung—
the "Plague Infusion Elixir."
A concoction of terrifying potency, a hundred times more concentrated than the disease ravaging the streets.
In an instant—
Gorat was infected.
Deep within the castle's forge, Bahanger, hammer in hand, suddenly stiffened.
The residual battle aura he had left on Gorat flared—signaling a foreign contamination.
A surge of magical energy, identical to the plague outside, but vastly stronger.
"What…? No… This is… impossible!"
With a deafening roar, Bahanger didn't hesitate.
Abandoning the half-forged mithril on his anvil, he charged forward like a battering ram.
Walls crumbled in his path.
Brick and stone shattered as he bulldozed through barriers, his powerful frame cutting a direct path to the grand hall.
The dwarf's entrance was an explosion of force.
When he saw Gorat collapsed in a pool of gray-tinged blood, Bahanger's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Too late.
Even with the protective battle aura he had left on Gorat, the concentrated plague had worked too quickly.
Gorat, the last of the Hyde bloodline, was doomed.
If he died, Bahanger's promise to the Hyde family—his clan's sacred vow—would be broken.
And by the laws of the Heavy Hammer Clan, Bahanger would no longer be worthy of his name.
For the old dwarf, this was unthinkable.
Tishachar.
There was no doubt.
She was responsible.
And now—
she would pay.
With shaking fury, Bahanger clenched his hammer, his body trembling with unchecked rage.
"You dare stain the honor of the Heavy Hammer Clan… From this moment forward—Tishachar! I swear, I will not rest until you are DEAD!"
His bellow shook the hall.
The officials present paled, some collapsing from sheer terror.
They knew what this meant.
The war drums were about to sound.
Blinded by fury, Bahanger's only thought was to hunt down Tishachar and wring the cure from her throat.
"Summon every soldier! We march on the Tishachar Church!"
His voice thundered across the chamber, rattling the windows.
The gathered officials looked at each other in terror.
Conquer Tishachar Church?
They didn't even know where she was.
They had spent their days squeezing refugees and amassing wealth, never bothering to track the church's movements.
But at this moment—
none of them dared to speak.
The air itself felt like it was searing with Bahanger's fury.
He wouldn't tolerate hesitation.
And if anyone dared to say "we don't know," they might not live to regret it.
Faced with silence, Bahanger's patience snapped.
His grip tightened around the hammer.
A deep brown aura began coiling around the weapon, growing denser, vibrating with contained destruction.
"I will not repeat myself," he growled.
"Where. Is. Tishachar?"
The officials trembled, but no answer came.
Just as Bahanger prepared to let his hammer do the talking, a slender hand caught his wrist.
"Calm yourself, Master Bahanger," a smooth voice spoke.
"Rage alone will not lead you to Tishachar."
The dwarf turned, his bloodshot eyes locking onto a familiar face.
Kang Kai.
That damnable pretty boy.
The sheer audacity of this fool daring to stop him only fueled Bahanger's fury.
"Kang Kai! If you can't tell me where Tishachar is, I swear—I'll smash you into the ground first!"
The threat was real.
Bahanger's battle aura flared, the hammerhead pulsing with lethal force.
But Kang Kai remained unshaken.
Sighing lightly, he met Bahanger's murderous glare and said:
"I don't know where she is."
The dwarf's grip tightened.
Before he could swing, Kang Kai continued:
"But I know someone who does."