Chapter 630: Damn it!
Damn it!
I never expected to encounter a Hunter here!
Ed Dumani still vividly remembered the “Bloody Rose” that had suddenly bloomed in the warehouse; it was once one of the lingering shadows in his heart.
During the urgent retreat and escape back then, he had personally witnessed several companions who attempted an ambush being twisted into scattered meat paste by seemingly irresistible blood-red threads.
His mentor also perished in that scheme, and along with the mentor, those students more favored by him also fell silent forever.
This was also an important reason why he later became a “mentor”—the sect’s inheritance was becoming increasingly difficult, and there weren't many people left in their branch.
Ed Dumani originally didn't believe there was any problem with his plan; this modified Underworld Gate ritual was the culmination of his mentor's lifelong wisdom and the most precious legacy his mentor left him. As long as the ritual was completed according to the steps, the death serpent, Coatle, would surely bestow a blessing.
His mentor had already proven this fact back then, and the rank he had now achieved and the accumulated gains he had acquired repeatedly verified the reliability of the ritual.
Compared to many other members of hidden organizations who tried to contact higher existences but never succeeded, Ed Dumani was now on a path of promotion full of certainty.
Although Coatle was not a widely worshipped and recognized deity in mysticism, and was even notorious outside the Silent Sect, as long as he responded, Ed Dumani was still willing to continuously “make deals with the devil,” as some wretches cursed him for.
Even when Ed Dumani realized yesterday that a ritual node had been artificially destroyed, he still thought it was just a small accident.
The ritual could be rearranged from scratch, but the local Holy Spirit Church might not always be so lucky each time. So, he temporarily changed his plan today, intending to leave a sufficiently deep impression on the New World clergy.
In the past two years, he had successfully completed rituals of varying scales in several Old Continent war zones, such as Venice Province, and even the Holy See branches there failed to detect and stop him in time.
It was clear that the Windsor Church and the Hunter Association had not reported the details of the ritual externally. As long as he left Windsor, no one would be able to accurately identify the ritual so quickly.
But damn it,
Why were there Hunters in the New World?!
Shouldn't they also be targets for eradication by the local church here?!
Had he known this, he wouldn't have arranged this dispersed “unexpected gift” tonight. The ambushes by his subordinates at other nodes might also encounter unexpected problems.
The more troublesome part was that his revenant had also been damaged in tonight’s ambush.
That was created by combining voodoo sorcery and the grace of Coatle.
The ritual could be completed again given another opportunity, but finding another Coatle believer of the same rank as him, who was also completely unguarded against him, was not an easy task.
Damn Americans!
These descendants of exiles and traitors, just like their ancestors, only cause trouble!
Ed Dumani quickly made up his mind. According to what he understood, the Americans nowadays only knew how to blindly expand their territory, but their actual governing power could not compare to that of the Old Continent.
Even on the East Coast, there were areas like this, almost ungoverned, virtually indistinguishable from the pastures arbitrarily enclosed by Windsor nobles.
As long as he escaped to the west, there should be even fewer proper governing bodies there. Furthermore, it was said that even further west, there were still large unmined gold deposits. Whether for spreading faith or accumulating wealth, it was much more reliable than cooperating with these local officials on the East Coast.
The next ritual clearly couldn't be performed in this city anymore, so it would be better to demand another sum of money from the other party and leave as soon as possible.
Given the military and organizational strength displayed by the local church, he believed the other party would also not want the matter to be publicly exposed.
Ed Dumani thought this way as he hid and scurried, soon escaping to the edge of this concentrated warehouse area.
He slipped into a somewhat familiar dark alley, tore off his hooded outer robe, revealing the common laborer's attire underneath. After a brief wait, he quietly continued on his way.
“Hey! Pighead, out so late, planning to grab a drink, eh? How about you treat us to a round?”
Just as he reached the corner of the dark alley, several young men surrounded him, holding daggers.
The snake-like mist was urged forward, and the thugs, intending to “give Ed Dumani a hard time” and teach him a lesson for such a provocative act, suddenly felt a violent sense of suffocation.
“Clang—”
The dagger fell to the ground.
Ed Dumani felt a little better. He ignored these guys who would soon gradually stop twitching, observed his surroundings briefly, then avoided his usual routes and continued winding through the dark alleys towards his stronghold.
It wasn’t until he reached the street where his stronghold was located and looked up to see the empty flowerpot on the windowsill, signaling safety, that Ed Dumani finally relaxed completely.
One of his subordinates was also returning to the stronghold at this time. Noticing Ed Dumani, he quickened his pace in the dark alley, eventually walking a step beside him, respectfully lowering his head: “Mentor.”
“Hmm.” Ed Dumani maintained his usual authoritative demeanor, his steps unceasing, “How are things on your end?”
The subordinate’s tone was filled with admiration: “I modified the magic circle according to your instructions, and not long after, the magic circle seemed to be triggered by an anomalous extraordinary power. I believe those troublemakers who approached without permission have all fallen silent forever, just as you wished.”
“Not bad.” Ed Dumani didn't look back, only nodded slightly.
The two had now reached the back door of the stronghold. The subordinate quickly took a few steps, opened the door with a key, then stepped aside to let his mentor go first.
After Ed Dumani entered, the subordinate, after confirming no one was following, closed the door again and followed him up the stairs:
“Mentor, what do you plan to arrange next? Do we need to quickly complete the preparations for the next ritual?”
Ed Dumani was considering how to express his idea of withdrawing quickly in a way that wouldn't lose his authority.
Then he suddenly sensed a rather anomalous and vigorous life force.
Not good!
The stronghold had been invaded!
Snake-like mist, swirling with deathly aura, instantly shot towards the corner above the stairs.
It seemed to have missed any living thing. There was a faint rustling sound on the wooden floor upstairs, like insects scurrying quickly.
Both men pulled out their weapons—one a small Feathered Serpent scepter imbued with Coatle's aura, the other a poisoned dagger—then rushed up the stairs, “thump-thump-thump.”
The subordinate who had been left to guard the stronghold was already lying on the floor. Ed Dumani didn't spare him a glance, turning to rush into his own bedroom.
As soon as he entered, he saw that his bed had been ransacked, and the wall hole secretly dug behind the cabinet was exposed. The briefcase that originally contained cash and his mentor's notes lay open on the floor. Neither of the two prophylactic curses on the wall and the box had worked.
Even the candles used for their daily prayers had been pulled from their pure silver candelabras.
A slender, blonde figure was perched on the windowsill, carrying a bundle. As she leaned back and flipped out, she blew Ed Dumani a kiss.
The snake-like mist flew out the window and hit nothing, while Ed Dumani was entangled by metal Vines that suddenly burst from the floor beside him, tightening instantly around his body with a stinging sensation.
The Feathered Serpent on the small scepter seemed to blink, and the metal Vines quickly lost their vitality.
The subordinate who arrived shortly after had already rushed to the windowsill. After looking down and realizing they couldn't catch up, he turned and walked towards his mentor, who was gritting his teeth and pulling out the blood-stained, barbed metal filaments: “Let me treat you first.”
“Those are precious notes left by Grand Mentor Sarayan. We must get them back.” Ed Dumani clutched the Feathered Serpent scepter in his hand. “This damned thief! She shouldn’t be from the local church.”
And what responded to him at that moment was a sudden whooshing sound from outside the window:
“Help—”
“Bang!”
A green flare exploded in the night sky.
Ed Dumani’s eyes instantly turned bloodshot. He recognized that this flare was different from those used by the local church, but it would likely still attract people from the local church very quickly:
“Leave a warning mark. We’ll go to the backup stronghold first. Once I catch her, I’ll make her into a sacrifice, chop her up, and offer her to the death serpent!”
“Yes!”
