Chapter 6: The Cult of Chaos and a Stolen Robe

The Cult of Chaos was the very sect that had enslaved Gern in the past, widely regarded as the most formidable power among all the evil god cults. Time was growing increasingly urgent, and she knew she had to enhance her strength. Never again would she allow herself to be enslaved by those individuals. If the opportunity arose, she yearned to personally eliminate the one who had once held her captive.

Lilia, eavesdropping from her hidden corner, raised an eyebrow. ‘Could it be that Gern’s arrival in human society was due to the Cult of Chaos?’ she mused. ‘What a coincidence,’ she thought. ‘The Kingdom of Klyte is currently conducting a nationwide crackdown on cults, spearheaded by the very Cult of Chaos. Perhaps I can use this opportunity to draw closer to Glot.’

Concealed in the shadows, Lilia quietly made up her mind. Having ascertained that Gern was no longer in mortal peril, she slipped away from the scene unnoticed.

****

Upon returning to a lavish estate within the town, Lilia paused in thought before dispatching a servant to summon the town’s lord, Victor, the current patriarch of the Williams family.

“Your Royal Highness, you summoned me. How may I be of service?”

The man who entered was middle-aged, clad in a splendid, voluminous brocade robe. His fleshy face was contorted into an obsequious smile.

“Viscount Victor, I expect you to conduct a thorough investigation into the evil god cults within this town. Should I discover even a single cultist has infiltrated, your title as viscount will become quite unnecessary.”

Victor trembled uncontrollably at Lilia’s words, yet he desperately tried to compose himself, struggling to maintain an outward semblance of calm.

“As you command, Your Royal Highness.”

As Victor departed, Lilia remained seated on the long bench, her gaze following his retreating figure. Her elegant, willow-like brows furrowed ever so slightly.

****

“That was my favorite outfit, damn it! So what if they paid? Investigate! I want to know who that person was, now!”

Within the town’s aristocratic castle, a crude-looking young noble shrieked and cursed, having already shattered numerous precious artifacts in his fury.

The maids surrounding him cowered, each with their heads bowed low, terrified that the young noble’s wrath would turn upon them.

Meanwhile, the guard, who had been kneeling before the noble youth, his form disfigured by the whip, painstakingly pushed himself to his feet. His voice, a raw rasp, offered a respectful reply.

“Y-yes… Young Master. We… we’ll go… investigate… immediately…”

Shortly after the guard departed, the stout, middle-aged man strode quickly into the room. Upon witnessing the utter wreckage strewn across the floor, his initial apprehension swiftly morphed into a furious rage.

“You ungrateful wretch! Disaster looms, and yet you stand here smashing everything in sight!”

Glot, utterly bewildered by the cause of his father’s explosive temper, found his usual arrogant demeanor tempered somewhat.

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“Quickly, gather your things! That Lilia, that wretched woman, has ordered us to investigate the evil god cults.”

“Make haste and destroy all evidence of our dealings with the Cult of Chaos. We can’t risk them tracing anything back to us.”

Glot nodded instantly at his father’s words. He had always harbored a profound dislike for those cultists, who treated his father as nothing more than a mere tool. If not for his father’s ongoing collaboration with them, he would have long since relished the chance to give them a thorough beating.

“Yes, I’ll see to it immediately.”

****

Inside the dilapidated thatched hut, Gern observed her body slowly mending, scratching her head in thought. To this day, she hadn’t quite deciphered the exact conditions for her transformations. ‘Perhaps it’s linked to the vital energy and blood flow within my body,’ she mused. ‘Grrrrumble~’ Gern rubbed her stomach. ‘Hmm… it’s time to eat.’

****

Along the town’s bustling streets, pedestrians hurried to and fro, each appearing exceptionally pressed for time. On either side of the thoroughfare, various merchants touted their wares, some offering delectable foods, others showcasing exquisite handicrafts, clothing, and trousers.

“Shopkeeper, I’ll take ten loaves of black bread.”

The small shop’s proprietor, hearing the voice, looked up with a quizzical expression, his gaze falling upon a man clad in a black brocade robe. A peculiar expression crossed his face as he meticulously scrutinized the young man standing before him. ‘Judging by his attire, he doesn’t appear to be from a poor household,’ the shopkeeper pondered. ‘Why then would he be buying something as humble as black bread?’

Though the shopkeeper couldn’t fathom it, he nevertheless packaged ten loaves of black bread for his customer.

Gern, satisfied, weighed the bread in her hands. ‘It’s truly wonderful to have money,’ she thought, ‘to be able to buy black bread by the ten loaf!’

*Clatter, clatter~*

Just then, the sudden clatter of hooves echoed from the distance. Moving with astonishing speed, the mounted patrol sealed off the entire street in mere moments.

“Young Master Glot has issued an order: apprehend the thief who stole his clothes! Has anyone here seen—”

The leading knight’s words abruptly cut off as his gaze unexpectedly fell upon Gern. His pupils constricted instantly. The individual before him matched the description in both stature and build, but most damningly, they were wearing Young Master Glot’s very own black brocade robe.

“Brothers, with me! Apprehend the thief!”

With a pointed finger from the knight, the white steed beneath him bolted forward like a launched arrow.

“What the?! Hold on, didn’t I pay for it?!”

Gern’s eyes widened in alarm. She hastily stowed the black bread back into her pendant and dashed into a narrow alleyway.

“Don’t let them escape! Pursue!”

As the squadron of knights drew relentlessly closer, Gern gritted her teeth and activated her Netherworld Steps. An eerie mist began to emanate from her, its chilling aura causing the leading knight to frown instinctively. ‘Could this person also be connected to the evil god cult?’ the knight pondered. ‘In that case, I’ll have to put in some serious effort.’

With this thought, the knight spurred his white horse onward, closing the distance ever more rapidly.

Suddenly, a dead-end wall loomed at the alley’s conclusion. A cold sneer played on the leading knight’s lips. ‘Let’s see how this cultist manages to escape now,’ he thought.

Yet, when Gern spotted the formidable wall, far from panicking, she exhaled a profound sigh of relief. With a few light taps of her toes against the ground, resembling a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface, her movements became increasingly fluid and graceful. The earthen wall that had seemed to block her path now served as a springboard. With a single touch against its surface, Gern effortlessly vaulted over it.

The knights trailing behind stared, utterly dumbfounded. Gern might have soared over, but their horses certainly could not.

The leading knight glanced left and right, spotting a narrow path winding off to the right.

“Come, we’ll take this route!”

Only when the sounds of pursuit faded did Gern cautiously emerge from the thicket of tall grass. Gern had genuinely believed that paying for the garment would resolve the matter, never anticipating that these individuals would remain so relentlessly persistent. ‘It seems I can’t keep this outfit,’ she sighed internally. ‘But I have no other clothes. The ones in my pendant are all for girls; I can’t possibly stroll through the streets in women’s attire.’

“Quick! The clothes thief is over here!”

“What the hell, they’re that fast?!”

Gern’s body tensed. She quickly scaled the earthen wall once more, sprinting back towards the main street. Witnessing Gern’s second escape, the squadron of knights grew so infuriated their teeth ached with vexation.

“Split into two groups! Whoever apprehends them will be rewarded with a gold coin!”

****

As night descended, a head cautiously emerged from a large refuse bin by the roadside. Gern peered around, her gaze sweeping the area, but found no trace of the knightly patrol. ‘Are they gone?’

Gern slowly exhaled, then laboriously clambered out of the bin. Her once splendid black robe was now filthy and reeked of putrefaction. The stench was undeniably potent, yet for Gern, it was tolerable—certainly preferable to the foul odors of the sewers she had once frequented. In her penniless past, she had often resorted to clearing sewage from the reeking gutters for others.

Brushing the grime from her clothes, Gern once again melted into the shadows.

Inside a small clothing shop, the woman seated by the entrance was on the verge of nodding off. Noticing the deserted street outside, she began to prepare for closing. Suddenly, a gust of putrid air wafted past, startling her awake. Yet, when she fully roused herself, she found absolutely nothing amiss. ‘Strange,’ she murmured. ‘What was that peculiar smell just now?’

As the woman returned to her counter, she noticed ten copper coins resting quietly upon it.

Outside the small shop, Gern had quietly slipped into a nearby alleyway, where she quickly changed into new attire. The garment was a simple, coarse linen tunic, devoid of any embellishment beyond its plain white and grey hues. Gern surveyed herself with satisfaction, then stretched her limbs. ‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘this kind of attire truly suits me better.’