Probationary Divine Art – God-given Exploration: Immediately investigate the general situation in a designated area!
"How… how could this be? Why are the refugees rioting? And why was the city gate blown up?!"
Bishop Hodley's cloudy eyes were filled with shock. The timing of these events was too precise—just as the main forces of Dolez finished surrounding the Tishachar Church stronghold, the refugees "broke through" and attacked the city gates, launching an assault on the outer nobles. If Hodley failed to recognize the presence of a conspiracy at this point, he wouldn't be an old bishop—just an old fool.
But the situation left no room for hesitation. Almost as soon as Hodley realized something was wrong, dozens of masked figures emerged silently from within the Tishachar Church's stronghold. They wore gray and red robes, with a lifelike dark green spider emblazoned on them.
The masked figures stepped out of the large shop and spread out in a sparse formation, standing silently as they stared at the city guards and priests.
The city guards instinctively gripped their weapons. The strange attire of these individuals exuded an unsettling pressure.
However, most priests and professionals remained unconcerned. From their perception, these masked figures were merely ordinary people with no discernible professional level. Their mysterious outfits might seem intimidating, but they posed no real threat.
A young priest took this moment to step forward, loudly reciting Cuthbert's Creed:
"Sinners, you are the destroyers of order! This is an unforgivable crime, yet you are fortunate to be granted a chance at redemption. Surrender now, forsake your foolish evil aspirations, and—"
But before the priest could finish his sermon, the masked figures suddenly broke into a charge.
Their speed was shocking—far beyond that of ordinary men.
Their synchronized footsteps stirred dust from the ground, their movements as rhythmic as the drumming of a ritualistic ceremony.
"Heh, rushing to your deaths so eagerly?"
Seeing the masked figures charging head-on, several warriors cracked their knuckles. To commoners, these zealots might seem unnaturally fast, but to apprentice-level warriors and beyond, their speed was nothing impressive. The fighters merely waited for them to get close before swinging their blades.
"Haha, I love splitting people in half! And you're practically offering yourselves up!"
A burly warrior brought his blade down toward a masked man's skull. He had already envisioned the satisfying sight of blood spurting as the man collapsed lifelessly.
But what happened next froze his expression in horror.
Before the blade could make contact, the masked man exploded. A massive shockwave blasted outward, sending the warrior flying.
The man's body detonated in an instant, unleashing a powerful force that not only killed the nearest warrior outright but also sprayed acidic, poisonous flesh in all directions. The city guards caught in the blast screamed as their armor and flesh melted away.
"AAAGHH! IT BURNS! HELP ME!"
"My eyes! I CAN'T SEE!"
"Priest! I need healing! I'm going to die! AHHH!"
This horrific scene played out across all besieged strongholds.
One by one, suicide bombers charged into the formations, into buildings, and even into the arms of professional fighters—then detonated without hesitation. The sheer force of the explosions, combined with the lethal acid, turned the battlefield into a nightmare.
Most of the city guards were nothing more than thugs who bullied the weak. Faced with such terror, they immediately broke ranks and fled. The professional mercenaries, who could have fought back, instead chose to retreat—they weren't willing to risk their lives for a city that wasn't theirs.
And so, the so-called "elite main force" of Dolez's army fled en masse, ignoring their commanders' desperate shouts.
Left behind were only the priests, most of whom were nothing more than doctors with no combat experience. Against the relentless suicide bombers, they stood no chance. Within minutes, almost all apprentice-level priests had been reduced to unrecognizable piles of flesh.
In theory, thousands of city guards had surrounded a mere handful of religious fanatics.
But in reality? The guards were the ones being slaughtered.
At the lord's castle, Hutt nearly spat out blood upon receiving the magical report.
Why had the mercenaries and city guards—who usually boasted of their strength—retreated so easily? Were all their so-called "flawless records" nothing more than fabrications built on fleeing from real battles?!
But there was no time to dwell on it. Hutt needed a solution—fast. Snatching up the precious communication crystal, he roared at the commander:
"Get the nobles to send out their private soldiers, their death squads, and any professionals they've been hiding! If we don't act now, when Kang Kai and Bahang return, we'll all be dead!"
Even now, Hutt held out hope. The nobles' private forces should be more disciplined than the city guards, capable of handling suicidal zealots.
But fate was cruel.
The response he received shattered his last illusions.
"M-My lord… t-the commoners… t-they're attacking the nobles' estates! The private soldiers and family professionals… they're fighting off the rioters! W-We… we have no men to spare!"
Hutt's hands trembled so violently that he nearly dropped the communication crystal. Quickly, he grabbed a vial of calming potion and chugged it down, barely stopping himself from collapsing in shock.
Dolez was in complete chaos.
Even a cunning old fox like Hutt had no idea what to do next.
And the worst was yet to come.
At that moment, all the masked zealots began gathering toward the lord's castle.
They moved swiftly and silently through the city streets. Whenever an obstacle appeared in their path, they simply sent a few "companions" forward to detonate and clear the way.
The few professionals capable of resisting them wanted no part in this madness. The guards who did try to stop them were helpless against their suicidal tactics.
No one could halt their advance.
Their target was clear—the towering lord's castle at the center of Dolez.
And inside that castle, sleeping soundly in a bed surrounded by his wives and concubines, completely oblivious to the impending catastrophe…
Was Lord Gorat.