A bad feeling.
Something was very wrong...
In the pitch-black basement, only scattered candlelight illuminated the surroundings.
Metal bars surrounded them on all sides, resembling a giant iron cage.
Hank Manan, a renowned master thief, looked around, his heart filled with an overwhelming sense of crisis.
Although this place was clean for a prison, equipped with toilets and food, and there were no torture devices hanging on the walls, nor even a trace of blood on the floor, Hank Manan would still rather return to the previous smelly, dirty, and dilapidated place than stay here for even a second.
Based on his years of experience, the current abnormality completely indicated that something life-threatening was approaching.
Among the dozens of people imprisoned in the cage, besides him, a few others also sensed the danger, their expressions extremely grim.
One of them, a burly middle-aged man with several scars on his face, clearly a seasoned veteran with extensive combat experience, walked up to Hank Manan and whispered seriously, "I know you, the infamous thief who has roamed several kingdoms, Hank Manan, responsible for over a thousand thefts, caught only when you failed to steal the jewelry of the Maddon Duchy's princess.
Let me introduce myself, I am Heto Asar, the captain of the second brigade of the Wolf Hunt Mercenary Group, possessing the strength of a [Grand Knight].
I believe you've already noticed the peculiarities here. I think it's necessary for us to cooperate, otherwise, none of us might escape."
After saying this, he extended his hand.
Hearing that the other party possessed the strength of a [Grand Knight], Hank's eyes narrowed. After a moment of thought, he also extended his hand and shook it, confirming their cooperative relationship.
After the handshake, Heto's expression relaxed slightly, and he subtly gestured to the people around them:
"I think the situation is very serious. We might have been dragged into some kind of cult ritual. I saw a familiar face among those who escorted us. Although he was disguised, I recognized him from a past encounter—[Evil Sorcerer Sartre], wanted by the church, known for his extremely twisted personality, with thousands of deaths attributed to him.
As for the people in this cage, I've observed that each one is highly trained, capable of killing a fully armed soldier with bare hands, which makes them the perfect sacrifices for a cult ritual..."
Listening to Heto's words, Hank's expression grew increasingly grim. Although he didn't know who Evil Sorcerer Sartre was, the mere title of "Evil Sorcerer" was enough to indicate that the man was no ordinary foe. Among the mysterious spellcasters, Evil Sorcerers were undoubtedly the most notorious, each one drenched in blood, and calling them butchers would be an understatement.
According to the information Hank had overheard in the previous cell, the person who ordered his transfer was the prince of the Maddon Duchy. This meant that the Evil Sorcerer was likely aligned with the highest echelons of the country, which was absolutely disastrous for Hank and the others.
In such a situation, becoming a sacrifice in a cult ritual was far from an idle threat—it was an extremely high probability.
Regarding the moral limits of the upper class, Hank had witnessed countless instances throughout his years as a master thief!
Those in the upper echelons, who would even cook their own kind in pursuit of so-called immortality, would not find it the least bit unusual to hold blood sacrifices.
It could be said that if it weren't for the fact that he might very well be on the list of sacrifices, Hank wouldn't even bother to inquire about such matters.
Seeing Hank's grim expression, Herto asked, "The metal bars of this cage are made of Saya Iron, and each one is as thick as two adult fingers pressed together. Even if we brought in ten wild elephants, they might not be able to bend them. There's no way we can break them with bare hands. Can you think of a way to unlock it?"
Under the other's disappointed gaze, Hank sighed and shook his head, "No way. I've already examined it carefully. This lock is specially crafted by a family of locksmiths who have served the Maddon Duchy's royal family for generations. It's composed of at least a hundred internal parts. Conventional locks are no match for it. Even with professional tools, I wouldn't be confident of opening it with a hundred percent certainty, let alone in this bare-handed state."
Thus, both of them fell into silence.
Meanwhile, the others had mostly started forming their own small groups, and within the cage of several dozen people, over twenty small cliques had emerged.
Conflicts naturally began to arise, with arguments and mutual provocations occurring incessantly.
If it weren't for the sudden transfer into this obviously unusual place, and the underlying sense of unease in everyone's hearts, with their temperaments, they would have already started fighting, and a few casualties would have been normal.
Creak...
Just as they were arguing heatedly, with all sorts of foul language flying around, the dark end of the corridor in front of the cage suddenly emitted the sound of a metal door being opened, its edge scraping against the ground.
All the prisoners instantly fell silent. After exchanging glances, they all turned their eyes towards the corridor.
Accompanied by unshielded footsteps, a tall, impeccably handsome young man with red hair, dressed in luxurious black attire adorned with gilded patterns, entered their line of sight.
Whether it was his appearance, attire, or the more ethereal aura, Hank had never seen anyone who could rival the person before him. There was a very special presence about him; once he stood there, everything around him automatically became a backdrop, and everyone's gaze was naturally drawn to him, as if he were the center of the world.
Moreover, whether it was an illusion or not, when he walked in, Hank felt as if the temperature of the air had dropped significantly, and the flies and mosquitoes that had been buzzing around earlier had disappeared without a trace, as if they had hidden themselves.
Glancing slightly to the side, he noticed that Herto's expression was one of extreme terror, as if he had seen a ghost. The scar on his face twisted like a caterpillar, and his bald head was already slick with sweat, which was slowly dripping to the ground.
Although he didn't understand what was happening to the other, Hank instinctively knew that danger had arrived. Not daring to make any sudden moves, he silently lowered his head and hid his figure behind the prisoner in front of him.
Tilting his head to look at the numerous prisoners locked up, Olthagia ignored their wary or hostile gazes and nodded in satisfaction, commenting:
"The quality is not bad. It seems Sartre has put in a lot of effort."
In fact, he knew that Jem, the crown prince, must have contributed the most. However, he didn't particularly care about that. As long as they completed the tasks he assigned, he didn't mind whatever schemes they came up with. After all, given the world's mana density and the progress of its civilization, aside from some ancient beings whose existence was uncertain, he didn't need to worry about any threats.
If it weren't for the fact that excessive slaughter would provoke an extreme reaction from the world, severely shortening his stay here, he wouldn't have resorted to such a mild approach, playing the role of a hidden boss behind the scenes. He would have long stepped into the spotlight to do as he pleased.
But since his goal was not yet achieved, he didn't want to stir up any major incidents in the short term, attracting a bunch of random heroes to team up and come specifically to defeat the Demon King.
At least, that was the case until he accomplished his objective.
Noticing Olthagia's gaze, which was akin to looking at livestock ready for slaughter, a man dressed in prison garb, of average appearance, stocky build, and with a beast's claw mark remaining where his right eye should be, stepped forward and spoke to Olthagia with a serious expression:
"Spare me. I know where Prince Lilia hid the treasure he reserved for himself during his rebellion 275 years ago in the Maddon Kingdom!"
Having skimmed through books like A Brief History of the Maddon Kingdom, Detailed Records of Continental History, and Myths of the Continental Ethnic Groups in recent days, absorbing various pieces of information about this world, Olthagia knew what the man was referring to. However, he still couldn't muster any interest.
The gold, silver, and treasures that humans cherished held no value in the Bottomless Abyss. A few corpses would be far more useful.
So, after shaking his head, he calmly replied in a somewhat hoarse voice, "Prince Lilia? I have no interest in his so-called treasure. Those things are meaningless."
The middle-aged man didn't get angry upon hearing this. Instead, he looked intently into Olthagia's eyes, thought for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "The leader of the Gale Bandits is my biological brother. Under his command, there are over a hundred battle-hardened bandits. If you let me go, not only will you get Prince Lilia's treasure, but we can also do something for you free of charge—whether it's killing or robbing, we can handle it."
"The Gale Bandits? That name sounds somewhat familiar..."
Olthagia stroked his chin, deep in thought.
Seeing Olthagia's hesitant expression, the man's spirits lifted, thinking he had struck a chord. He added, "We, the Gale Bandits, are the largest bandit group on the borders of the Maddon Duchy. Aside from the regular army, no one is a match for us!"
"Oh, I see," Olthagia nodded, then shook his head again. "But it still holds no significance for me. After all, you are the people who best meet my criteria in this kingdom. In the face of that value, everything else is useless."
With that, he paid no further attention to the man's grim expression and turned his gaze to the others.
Taking a gentle breath, Olthagia's handsome face revealed a slightly intoxicated smile as he said, "The familiar scent of sin makes me somewhat nostalgic for the Abyss. Although a few of the scents aren't quite pure, from a human perspective, most of you are undoubtedly scoundrels. It should be an honor for you to serve a purpose in my hands."
As soon as he finished speaking, amidst the terrified gazes of the crowd, Olthagia's body spontaneously emitted a faint gray-black mist, which transformed into varying numbers of threads. Ignoring their struggles, the threads merged into each person's body.
After completing his task, Olthagia paid no attention to the panicked individuals frantically checking their bodies. A faint smile appeared on his lips as he said, "I hope you can hold on for a few more days. Farewell, everyone."
Without any delay, he turned and left.
Just as he was about to walk out of the iron gate, Olthagia suddenly realized why he had an impression of the "Gale Bandits," a group of border bandits.
More than ten days ago, while he was setting fire to the border forest, he had encountered them by chance and had "enlightened" them on a whim...
Amen! Truly, the mercy of a demon!
In the future, he would have to find a bald monk to issue him a "Certificate of Enlightening the Masses." After all, working without a license just didn't seem right.