I will deal with those three before I deal with you.
A wicked smile crept across his face, his eyes flickering maliciously.
...
The three figures were restless, investigating thoroughly every corner of the village, but unfortunately for them, Chrove had hidden himself pretty quickly.
He had cleaned up the scene to be sure to leave no mark. After all, with his vast amount of experience, he was naturally vigilant.
At that moment, whistling sounds were heard, and an injured man who was weak—so weak that it was as though a mere slash would end him—came out.
It was very evident that the man had just survived a deadly chaotic battle; his body was filled with scars, and his hands were in ruins.
His shoulder had a gaping hole as if pierced by a savage beast. It was a miracle that this man was even alive.
The man's voice was weak, but the three figures vaguely heard it. "Help...me... A monster... A monster descended...!"
The man's tone was weak and solemn, his face distorting, each second a sign of torture.
The three silhouetted figures, led by the elder, quickly went to the man's side.
The two young women stood beside the elder, chanting what seemed to be an ancient language.
Green luminous light gushed toward the man's body; he let out a groan, his face twisted from the pain. In his state, he was dying.
The elder, however, had different plans in mind: how could he let the man in front of him die when he was the only witness to the scene that unfolded upon this land?
Indeed, this man was the best person to get information from.
"Answer me, young man. What happened exactly? We are a righteous force that has come due to the chaotic disturbance of the beast tide."
His tone brimmed with righteousness as if he were a heroic figure, but visible hatred twisted his features. His hands fluttered in the wind, a vivid distortion forming on his face. He acted oh so well, causing the two women beside him to twitch at his words.
Seeing the man was about to speak, a wicked smile that was hardly noticeable crept on the elder's face.
His face twisted with disdain towards the man inwardly, but he had to look for the bigger picture.
To achieve that, he naturally would show a warm attitude—a graceful face toward the man who 'needed' his help.
'With this, my sect contribution will rise hehe.'
He thought inwardly, how else could he earn information without trust? Even if he did so, it would be limited, so brief that it wouldn't be enough to gain many clues.
The man slowly opened his mouth. "Please..." His voice was hoarse, slipping away like sand through fingers, oddly eerie in its desperation.
"Please... die for me."
Boom!