Chapter 80: The Enforcer and the Priest’s Despair

“Big brother, I’m so tired,” Mia gasped, her breath ragged.

“It’s alright, Mia,” Shuster urged, his voice strained. “Just a little further, we’ll be out, I promise!”

The dim underground passage reeked of filth and decay.

Wastewater continuously dripped from the ceiling, its steady patter echoing eerily in the silent, cramped tunnel.

Shuster’s throat felt parched and burning.

The lantern in his hand cast a feeble light, barely pushing back the unsettling darkness.

Behind him, a girl barely in her teens clung tightly, running desperately.

Her pale face was utterly devoid of color, her eyes dim and lifeless, betraying her extreme weakness.

‘Damn it, why did those bastards suddenly show up?

I never heard anything about them before!’

Shuster gritted his teeth, his grip tightening.

“Big brother…”

Noticing the raw desperation in his demeanor, the girl softly called his name, her voice trembling.

“It’s alright, Mia, it’s alright…”

Shuster twisted his head, managing a strained smile of reassurance.

“Just a little longer, Mia. Have faith, your big brother will get you out of here!”

“I… I believe you, big brother.”

The chaotic rhythm of their footsteps reverberated through the tunnel, and the exit was almost upon them; a faint glimmer of light was now distinctly visible.

Yet, in that very moment, Shuster abruptly halted.

His features hardening into a grim mask, he pulled his sister firmly behind him.

“There’s no need to run anymore. The path ahead is blocked.”

A voice, chillingly devoid of warmth, drifted from the darkness ahead, its inherent menace unmistakable.

Then, as if a specter emerging from the nether, Thirteen materialized from the flanking shadows.

Clad in a uniquely styled pale purple trench coat, her identity was largely concealed; its high collar obscured half of her face, leaving only a pair of eyes, sharp with lethal intent, visible.

The lengthy hem of her coat brushed her heels, swaying almost imperceptibly with each subtle shift of her posture.

The trench coat was not merely adorned; it was etched with countless golden patterns, intricate magical circuits meticulously designed to amplify the wearer’s magical prowess and, at crucial junctures, to manifest damage-nullifying shields.

Such a sophisticated garment naturally commanded an exorbitant price, each piece requiring millions of Riell to craft.

And only one exclusive class of individuals was deemed worthy of donning it.

“An Enforcer… you’re one of the Fatescale Court!”

Shuster’s voice, when it emerged, was steeped in utter despair.

The Fatescale Court—a name synonymous with the kingdom’s most enigmatic underground organization.

Unlike the conventional court mages, the Fatescale Court answered exclusively to the royal family, acknowledging no other authority.

Their specialized purview encompassed high-difficulty incidents and the assassination of dangerous targets.

Despite their meager numbers—only a few dozen strong—each member wielded peerless skills, capable of confronting a hundred adversaries alone.

They might not have been the most potent mages, incapable of conjuring fireballs that could lay cities to waste.

Yet, in the grim artistry of assassination, their professionalism remained unrivaled.

Shuster understood, with a chilling certainty, that he stood no chance of breaching the girl’s defenses, not with his sister in tow.

“Shuster Clovis,” Thirteen’s voice cut through the air, “as a former Royal Priest and the current director of an orphanage, you willingly aligned yourself with the Abyssal Church, abducted children, and subjected them to human experimentation.”

Two daggers materialized in Thirteen’s hands, their blades gleaming with a sinister, chilling light.

“In accordance with Article 7, Chapter 3 of the Royal Supreme Edict, your crimes are irrefutable, warranting immediate execution on the spot!”

With a sudden, desperate thud, Shuster dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded.

“I know, I know I’ve committed unforgivable wrongs, but it was all to save my sister! I truly, truly had no other path left to me!”

He lifted his gaze, imploring the girl, “Everything was my doing, I confess.

Kill me, imprison me, even tear me limb from limb—I will offer no resistance!”

“But please, Enforcer… I beg you, spare my sister.

She is innocent; I alone am responsible for everything, she knows nothing… Please, I implore you…”

Beside him, the girl had collapsed onto the ground, her small body convulsing with uncontrollable shivers of terror.

Her lips parted, as if to voice a plea, yet she was too paralyzed by fear to utter a sound, her eyes fixed on Thirteen, who stood with daggers in hand, reflecting only abject terror.

In response to Shuster’s impassioned, tear-soaked pleas, Thirteen merely uttered two chilling words.

“No.”

“Why, why?!”

Shuster’s entire body convulsed, his eyes bloodshot as he let out a raw, unwilling roar.

“Mia did nothing wrong! Why can’t you even spare her?!”

“Such matters, you above all should comprehend.”

Thirteen’s gaze hardened into a glacial stare.

“Your sister should have perished long ago.

It was only by sacrificing the lives of countless other children that she was barely able to cling to this world.

Do you truly believe such an act could ever be permitted?”

Shuster’s fists clenched, his entire body trembling, a tremor that could have been born of terror or the fierce resolve before a desperate battle.

“Mia, run!”

With a sudden, guttural roar, he lunged at Thirteen, moving with a speed utterly disproportionate to his frame.

His fist, whistling with displaced air, shot towards Thirteen’s head, but just as it was poised to strike, her figure abruptly vanished from his vision.

In the very next instant, the chilling sound of a blade tearing through flesh reverberated, accompanied by a faint, muffled groan.

A dreadful realization dawned on Shuster, and he turned, slowly, shakily, only to be met with a sight that plunged him into utter despair.

Mia—the sister he had cherished above all else—lay sprawled in a pool of her own blood.

A clean, precise gash marred her throat, and a dagger had, with terrifying accuracy, pierced her heart from behind.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Thirteen had mercilessly claimed her life.

“Rest assured,” Thirteen stated, her voice devoid of emotion, “your sister died swiftly, experiencing little pain.”

Thirteen slowly withdrew the dagger from Mia’s lifeless form, flicking away the crimson droplets.

“Now, then, it’s your turn.”

Shuster remained frozen, his bloodshot pupils now reflecting nothing but profound, agonizing sorrow.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

He clutched his head, an enraged, broken cry tearing from his throat.

“Demon… beast! How could you commit such an act! She was my sister, my only family…”

Thirteen’s lips thinned into a grim line, her grip tightening on the dagger.

“One hundred and twenty-six people,” she stated.

“That figure accounts only for the experimental data.

The true number of lives you extinguished, I daresay, must have long exceeded two or three hundred.”

“To forcibly sustain your sister’s life, you used abducted children as sacrifices, condemning them to agonizing deaths…”

Thirteen could no longer suppress the torrent of her emotions; her voice rose steadily, culminating in an enraged shout.

“When you slaughtered them, did you ever once consider whose sisters they were? Whose daughters?”