FVN Chapter 61 Hell Bringers & Cultists
Chapter 61 Hell Bringers & Cultists
The reason that possibility struck Ashok so suddenly was simple: aside from another player, there were very few individuals capable of curing the Duke's daughter.
The kind of people who could do so—those with the knowledge, the power—were rare, and even they would not reveal themselves until much later in the story. By the time they would make their move, it would likely be too late. The Duke's daughter would either be dead or transformed into something far more dangerous.
"That man was even more confident than you," the Duke continued, his voice low and dangerous. "He demanded a hefty price for the cure, even asking for the position of Duke. He wouldn't even reveal the method of treatment—insisted on being left alone with my daughter."
The Duke's eyes flashed with contempt as he spoke, "And now, he is facing the consequences of his words, locked away in a cell beneath this mansion. Why don't you meet him?"
The Head Butler soon reappeared, leading a man dressed in the ragged clothes of a prisoner. His face was concealed by a black cloth, and a heavy steel collar encircled his neck.
'What's with that attire? Was he about to be hanged?' Ashok thought. 'Even using the Energy Sealing Collar than common restriction? Is this guy that much of a threat?'
Despite his restrained state, there was something about the way the man carried himself that suggested he wasn't just any ordinary captive.
The Head Butler lifted the cloth, revealing a face that was badly bruised and swollen. The man's skin was discolored with dark purple bruises, and his once-pristine hair had been torn out in patches. His right eye was swollen shut, but the left one flickered open just enough to look ahead.
Despite his battered state, the man managed to curl his lips into a faint, arrogant smirk. The man stared at the Duke and said "So, you finally decided to accept my offer? Hah! Should've done it from the first day. Now, I'll increase my dema—"
"Karzan?" The man's voice faltered, his words catching in his throat. He abruptly halted, his bruised face twisting in a mixture of surprise and confusion. He shifted his gaze sharply toward Ashok, the one who revealed his name.
In the Game, there were many evil factions but two stood above the rest. First, the Hell Bringers, and second the Cultists.
The Hell Bringers were those who had contracted to become servants of the residents of hell. With these contracts, their mana or aura—previously the source of their magical energy—was replaced with the very essence of hell: demonic energy.
Their ultimate goal was apocalyptic in scope. The Hell Bringers sought nothing less than the destruction of the Churches, the fall of the Heavenly Gods, and the rise of the Seven Sins.
The Cultists were chosen by the Outer Gods—ancient and eldritch beings that existed beyond the boundaries of the known universe. What made the Cultists so dangerous was the fact that they didn't gain any special energy directly from their gods, unlike the Hell Bringers who were granted demonic power.
Instead, the Cultists drew their strength from sacrifice—and the greater the sacrifice, the greater the power they obtained.
They desired the descent of the Outer Gods into the world.
'Cultists are more dangerous than the Hell Bringers, They blend into society like shadows, lurking in the corners of everyday life. No one can detect them, not unless they've made a sacrifice so great that their power starts to show. They could be anyone—your friends, your family, your closest allies. And that makes them far more deadly.
The Cultists, want the descent of the Outer Gods into this world which sounds simple but is far more dangerous. All Outer Gods just want to consume worlds to grow stronger, without any regard for the lives that inhabit them to increase their strength which is dangerous than the goal of Seven Sins.
No one knows this, though. Not even the majority of the world. They think the Cultists are just some other faction of zealots seeking chaos and ruin.' thought Ashok.
Karzan's arrogance from earlier faltering under the weight of the intense glares fixed on him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he nervously shifted, unable to meet the eyes of those around him.
"Y-You're lying," Karzan stammered "I am no Cultist. I'm just—just a man with some knowledge trying to make a living.