Chapter 461: Chapter 461: Missionary_1
A muffled thud, and the officer collapsed in response.
The sudden turn of events stunned Qiqimora; the cigarette she had just lit nearly slipped from her hand.
The ambushed officer didn’t immediately lose consciousness, but he was clearly caught off guard.
He never expected his own soldiers to pull off such an attack. All soldiers appointed to such tasks were strictly vetted; they were tight-lipped, loyal, and would never question orders from superiors. The possibility of betrayal was extremely low, and the idea of them suddenly growing a conscience and starting to rescue refugees was preposterous.
Yet, in the blink of an eye, all the soldiers in the warehouse began to coordinate their actions with the person who led the ambush.
The soldier who attacked him forced his knee onto his back, making him lie face down. Two soldiers opposite promptly pounced, pinning the struggling officer down and gagging his mouth with a cloth strip – which was originally meant for the kidnapped refugees.
The officer shouted futilely a couple of times, but his voice could not reach outside. The acoustics of a place selected for such dirty work wouldn’t be poor, not to mention the fact that his mouth was sealed.
Qiqimora regained her composure, stepped back slightly, and observed from a distance.
All eight soldiers in the warehouse had rebelled, joining forces to set an ambush for the officer who had come to inspect their work!
This was highly unusual. It was one thing for one or two soldiers to have a change of heart, but persuading more was plausible. However, to turn all of them into accomplices and ensure none would inform the superiors, that was far too difficult.
Someone was manipulating them! Qiqimora immediately came to this conclusion.
Qiqimora tried to summon her magic power—no response. This warehouse, used for inspecting "materials" entering the research facility, was also under the influence of an Anti-Magic Barrier; Mental Magic was out of the question.
At that moment, the hostage in the third sack slowly sat up as if just waking from sleep. A soldier immediately approached, cutting the ropes binding his hands and feet.
He leisurely stretched his wrists before climbing to his feet, then removed the sack over his head.
Qiqimora looked intently and still couldn’t make out his true face; under that sack, he was wearing a mask that only revealed his eyes.
"Good afternoon, Captain Morris," the kidnapped "refugee" greeted the officer condescendingly with a hint of laughter in his voice, "don’t be surprised that I know you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from your subordinates. Have no doubt, they’ve all converted to my cause."
Qiqimora observed the complexion of the skin revealed outside the mask and identified the accent, quickly concluding: This guy was definitely not from the South.
An imposter refugee, utilizing a group of soldiers who had turned against the military to set up an ambush for the officer.
Qiqimora held her breath and focused, sensing a dangerous atmosphere.
The voice sounded quite young; this person was likely not Professor Dodge...
A possibility emerged in her mind, sending an involuntary shiver through her spine.
"I’m just a little surprised that you look so refined on the outside. You don’t look at all like someone who sent hundreds to hell," the masked man chuckled, "Unwaveringly obeying orders, erasing your own humanity, you’re a perfect soldier."
The officer made a muffled cry, unable to move under the weight of three people, like a snake pinned down at its vital spot.
"Your country has caused chaos in the South, creating countless refugees. You’ve obtained cheap materials, and thanks to you, I’ve also gained many, many followers recently... Heh, desperate people are always the easiest to control; they’re always looking for faith to support themselves. It took me some time to track you down, but blending in with these people and then drawing out your men was not difficult," the man continued, "Don’t worry, I’m not some avenger, just a missionary. In a way, I’m on the same path as you. Only, to achieve my goals, I need your cooperation, so would you mind assisting me?"
The man looked down at the officer, speaking in a friendly tone with not a hint of hostility in his eyes.
"Ugh!" the officer’s voice was resounding.
Even though he couldn’t speak, his resentful eyes had already given his answer—a most definite refusal.
"Your loyalty to the nation is admirable," the man clapped his hands, "It has not disappointed my expectations, very good, the more loyal a person is... the more valuable their betrayal will be!"
When he finished speaking, he suddenly lifted his foot and stepped on the officer’s head.
It was but a light step, devoid of any physical harm, yet it carried an undeniable insult.
The officer could not contain his anger and let out a beast-like growl.
"Hostility—right, the hot-blooded desire to tear me into pieces, that’s what a soldier should feel," the man said with a benign smile, "This hatred will become an unbreakable faith."
After a moment’s pause, the man spoke again, uttering strange, deep phonetics.
Qiqimora’s face changed color, and she instinctively backed into a corner, well aware that the man was reciting a divine word.
At that moment she was certain, the person standing before her was none other than Mr. Bloodrobe, the demigod of "Hatred" authority—whom Aiden Galahad had been searching for!
Qiqimora vaguely felt that intangible domain, a wave of unexplained palpitations gripped her, even though she was not the target of this divine word.
The mutinous soldiers released the officer, stood at attention in their places, and saluted the man in unison, their eyes filled with fervor.
To them, these words were a baptism of the soul, awakening them on the spot, making them realize the faith truly worth following.
The officer’s complexion changed, though no one was holding him down, he felt as if he couldn’t stand up however hard he tried.
As the world spun around him, an overwhelming sense of self-loathing surged within him.
The unquestioned obedience to military orders, the hands stained with blood for the sake of the nation—how could he have been so passionate about such a pathetic puppet-like life and been willing to give up everything for it?
But in an instant, he came to his senses.
Everything was wrong, be it the nation or all his past deeds. The nation was rife with sin, and he too was steeped in guilt.
And the man before him had appeared to make him fully awake, to show him the path to redemption.
He raised his head and saw the man looking down at him, hands open, eyes benevolent and forgiving.
The hostility that wanted to flay and dissect the man disappeared in an instant, replaced by supreme reverence.
"God..." he murmured softly, his eyes alight with fervent adoration, just like those soldiers.
The man who had dedicated everything as a soldier had now found a new faith.
Watching this scene, Qiqimora was instinctively filled with the desire to flee: to get away from here, as this man was very dangerous.
