Sagon glared at the Demonic Strategist with contempt in his eyes. He looked ready to snap the man's neck at any moment. However, aside from an occasional twitch, he could do nothing.
GRIND...!
Positioning herself squarely between them, she warned, "Whoever starts fighting first had better be prepared to make an enemy of me as well."
The Apostles' energy crushed his body from all sides. Weakened by imprisonment and chains, his unparalleled physique was the only thing keeping him conscious.
The Demonic Strategist observed Sagon curiously. "To think the most feeble-minded Apostle would betray our Cult... I'm quite curious as to how this happened."
"!" The Third Apostle's jaw dropped in shock.
A half-rotten hand pressed against Sagon's chest. As soon as Sagon felt the chilling touch, he writhed and thrashed about violently.
"Ugh... Aagh!"
A rough, cracked sound burst from his ruined vocal cords as blood gushed from his mouth.
"Kekeke! Be still. It won't be as painful as you think," the Demonic Strategist crooned, stroking Sagon's body as though he were a precious specimen. A crimson energy flowed from his hand and slowly seeped inward.
A half-rotten hand pressed against Sagon's chest. As soon as Sagon felt the chilling touch, he writhed and thrashed about violently.
SSSSSSH...
This was no ordinary energy. It was the heaven-defying power the Blood Demon had bestowed upon him, the same power through which he had overcome death, albeit in an incomplete form.
Sagon glared at the Demonic Strategist with contempt in his eyes. He looked ready to snap the man's neck at any moment. However, aside from an occasional twitch, he could do nothing.
"It's useless to resist. A fragment of the Supreme Lord remains within your body, too."
To everyone's surprise, the answer was one neither the Demonic Strategist nor any of the Apostles had expected.
Soon, Sagon's fierce resistance faded, and his eyes grew hazy.
""......""
The Apostles watched from behind in silence for a while, until suddenly, the Third Apostle turned and glared at the First Apostle, his eyes bloodshot.
"What in the world did you do?"
"Hey, Number One. Do we really have to go this far?"
"Have you lost your mind?"
"It's for the sake of our Cult."
"And not for your own greed?"
"Allow? Since when did I need your permission?"
"...What do you mean?"
The First Apostle appeared calm on the surface, but his eyes were unnervingly cold as he desperately suppressed something boiling within him. He knew watching the Demonic Strategist torture Number Four would bring back unpleasant childhood memories for all of them, but it was necessary.
"I've already given Number Four several chances," he added. "He's the one who refused them."
"It would be better to kill him than watch the Demonic Strategist break him like this..."
"Stop talking nonsense."
"What?"
The First Apostle glared fiercely at the Third Apostle, radiating an equally formidable aura. "What exactly would be better? Number Three, judge the situation calmly. We must uncover the Azure Dragon Hero's true identity. Our mission is to eliminate all factors hindering the Supreme One's return..."
Sagon's heart should have resonated with his sorcery by now, yet he sensed nothing. He stirred the heaven-defying energy again, intensifying it.
"Who the fuck cares about some stupid orthodox hero?!"
BAM!
The Third Apostle slammed his scabbard onto the floor, unleashing a ferocious killing intent. Energy rippled through his body as if he were about to draw his blade. "Fine. I'll go out right now and bring back the Azure Dragon Hero's head. Will you stop this crazy bullshit then?"
"...I won't allow it."
"Allow? Since when did I need your permission?"
A red mist spread from his body, suffusing the prison with a suffocating tension.
The Third Apostle seethed. There had never been an official hierarchy among the four of them. Since they were young, the First Apostle had always taken the lead, and they had followed him without objection, but that didn't mean he was their superior.
"...Number Three. Don't do something you'll regret."
"Kekeke! Be still. It won't be as painful as you think," the Demonic Strategist crooned, stroking Sagon's body as though he were a precious specimen.
"Don't lecture me. There's a limit to how much of your arrogance I can tolerate."
"...I was thinking the same thing."
The First Apostle stared coolly at the Third Apostle, who met his gaze with a ferocity that threatened to devour him. Their martial arts uniforms billowed as they gathered their inner qi, neither of them yielding an inch.
"Who was it?! Who tampered with the heaven-defying sorcery engraved on your heart...!" he roared, but he could not continue.
"Stop!" the Second Apostle cried out. A stream of ice qi spilled out from her body and pierced the space between the two men. Positioning herself squarely between them, she warned, "Whoever starts fighting first had better be prepared to make an enemy of me as well."
For a moment, they felt as if they had gone back in time.
""......""
After glaring at each other for a moment, the two men retracted their auras.
The Third Apostle was the first to whip his head away. "If the Demonic Strategist crosses the line, I'll tear him apart with my own hands."
"...I was thinking the same thing."
While the apostles maintained their tense standoff, the Demonic Strategist continued his spellcasting, seemingly unconcerned. "Kekeke! You've finally calmed down a bit."
"Ugh..." Sagon moved his mouth, but only a cracked, unintelligible sound came from his ruined vocal cords.
The Demonic Strategist frowned. "I forgot for a moment that you were mute. I'll take care of that first."
"......" Sagon observed the First Apostle carefully, noting the brief moment of confusion.
Such a miraculous feat was impossible with ordinary sorcery, but heaven-defying energy made it possible. The energy entered Sagon's neck from the Demonic Strategist's hand, stopping the bleeding.
"Try speaking again. You should be able to speak properly for a while."
"Ah..."
Sagon's voice had changed. This was not the sound coming from a ruined throat, but rather the voice of an ordinary person.
The Apostles' eyes widened in surprise. For the first time in decades, Number Four could speak.
"Kekeke! You should be grateful for this grace bestowed by the Supreme Lord."
Soon, Sagon's fierce resistance faded, and his eyes grew hazy.
Looking at Sagon's dazed expression, the Demonic Strategist felt certain. The giant was under his control.
He was the only one who knew that the sorcery the Blood Demon had personally engraved remained in all the Apostles' bodies. Having received a portion of heaven-defying power, he too could interfere with the sorcery engraved on the Apostles' hearts.
Soon, the sorcery he had cast and the sorcery engraved on Sagon's heart would begin to resonate, and he would use this opportunity to reinforce the Fourth Apostle's loyalty to the Blood Demon and to himself.