Chapter Thirteen: Slaughter

Sometimes, doors, windows, and even walls meant little to Neo, for he had a keen sense of smell that allowed him to easily distinguish the unique scents of different people from over ten meters away. He also had a sharp sense of hearing; after specialized training, he could determine what was going on in a room just across the wall by detecting subtle sounds such as breathing or even heartbeats.

So, while Neo appeared to casually push open the door of the Malfoy Inn and step inside, he had actually already gathered enough information about what lay within and was well-prepared.

Most inns in villages combined drinking, dining, and lodging—this was true of the Malfoy Inn as well. In a hall of over 60 square meters, there were more than a dozen tables of various sizes. They should have been clean and shiny, with bright potted flowers on them. Malfoy’s wife, Liz, loved flowers, and Malfoy loved his wife, so the inn was always filled with blooming flowers throughout the year.

But now, stains and overturned wine bottles dominated the scene, setting the backdrop for several drunken Dark Cultists whose stinky feet, bare of boots, rested on the tables as they snored loudly.

The advantage of being a villain was the ability to indulge oneself without caring about others’ lives. For those frustrated and down-and-out individuals, the temptation to indulge was sometimes greater than the desire for immortality—after all, immortality didn’t equal happiness. Otherwise, there would be no such thing as the infamous Kyles Death Clan vampires, who, every year during the hottest days of summer, would gather in well-lit places to die from sun exposure.

Neo took out a small vial he had prepared in advance. It contained an anesthetic made mainly from the leaves and branches of the drugging herb, originally used to capture wild animals, but now suitable for dealing with these human beasts.

He opened the vial and held it near the nostrils of the target, letting them sniff a few times. The substance was highly volatile, and after Neo’s modification, its effect was strong—though not lasting long. The effects would begin to fade after a few minutes, but that was enough time for Neo.

One, two—before long, all five Dark Cultists downstairs had inhaled the anesthetic. Their symptoms weren’t obvious; they just seemed to be sleeping deeper.

“Who are you? What are you doing?” Neo was about to administer the anesthetic to the sixth Dark Cultist when the man spoke up. Startled, Neo rushed to get close to his neck when the man continued, “Hey, come have a drink! Cheers!” It turned out he was talking in his sleep.

After this brief interruption, Neo began searching them. As expected, all six of them carried pills on them—Perversion Pills. Clearly, these were the kind of potions used by low-level magic cultists. In times of life-threatening danger, they would swallow the pills and transform into monsters, saving their lives but losing their humanity and becoming complete beasts.

He lightly stepped up to the second floor. The once regular guest room had now become a den of debauchery—wine, lust, and indulgence, eternal themes. The unfortunate ones were the young girls and wives in the town, though there were also those with darker tastes. As one cursed these beasts with gritted teeth, they couldn’t help but reflect on whether such a beast lurked within themselves as well. Especially given the overall atmosphere here, anyone in it could clearly sense the chaos and darkness brought about by the breakdown of order and the disregard for rules.

Thoughts of burning, killing, looting, and doing whatever one wanted brought shocking sensory stimuli that made breathing heavy and eyes red. It wasn’t just the beast roaring in one’s heart—it was also the flame of revenge burning fiercely, as someone had cruelly trampled upon the beauty one had painstakingly built. And one believed this debt could only be repaid with blood!

That flame burned in Neo’s heart now, yet his eyes were colder than the bitter cold outside. A door opened, and the pungent smell of intercourse irritated Neo’s nerves. The mess and filth proved that violence and humiliation had occurred in this room, and not just once.

Neo suppressed his anger time and again before tremblingly administering an anesthetic to the man on the bed. He had the urge to tear this dark cultist apart alive, but he knew the conditions weren’t right to do so. Even killing might make noise and wake the people in the next room.

“This won’t be a fair fight. It’s a slaughter, like killing an animal!” Neo repeated in his mind, and his hands finally stopped trembling.

Next room, then the third floor…

The toughest one was in the innermost room on the third floor—a high-ranking dark cultist. Neo guessed he was the kind who could freely transform and revert, as some of his subtle vital signs were no longer human, such as breathing and heartbeat. Despite Neo’s extreme caution, the guy still woke up thanks to his beast-like instinctual awareness as Neo approached the bed.

Neo’s first move was to shatter the vial of anesthetic on the man’s face. Perhaps still disoriented from waking up suddenly, the guy didn’t immediately flee or scream. Instead, he transformed into a half-beast state and then collapsed unconscious. This took Neo, who had been holding his breath and rushed forward with a dagger, by surprise.

Clearly, ordinary free transformation and reversal weren’t perfect—at least they didn’t grant immunity to strong drugs when in human form. From another perspective, those who could freely transform and revert were still alive, not immortal, as immortality meant complete immunity to ordinary toxins and drugs.

“I should have figured it out sooner. Otherwise, how could I play with women! But you won’t get the chance anymore!” Neo thrust his fingers like a knife and plunged them deep into the heart core of the dark cultist’s right chest.

“Ah!” The high-ranking dark cultist let out a pained sound from his throat, his limbs convulsing, but he couldn’t wake up, as if trapped in some nightmare, followed by eternal silence.

One drained, two drained…

Nio originally planned to feed these scumbers the corruption potion to turn them into monsters and create chaos, making it easier for him to act. But the corruption inflicted by the high-ranking Dark Cultist reminded him of his time in Solis City. Nio realized that this was also a dark creature—by absorbing his life energy, could it further enhance its own combat power?
The answer was yes, but it was unclear whether repeated absorption would reduce the rate of growth or if the Dark Cultist hadn’t completed its corruption process. In any case, this improvement was far less than the first time. Nio only felt a slight enhancement, but his physical strength and mental energy improved significantly, and even his hunger was largely gone.
So, Nio changed his mind. He decided to turn all these Dark Cultists into dried corpses and make them disappear collectively, creating a mysterious disappearance case. As for what kind of wild guesses their dark minions would make, that depended on their tolerance and imagination.
There were 16 Dark Cultists in total. If Nio had stayed a little longer near the path in the North Sageleaf Forest yesterday, he would have recognized that the high-ranking Dark Cultist he killed was one of the three leaders from yesterday. With his keen insight, he might even have figured out from certain personal traits and clues that these Dark Cultists were the same corrupted soldiers from the previous day.
There wasn’t just one way to corrupt these dark minions. Moreover, they weren’t so extravagant as to use most of their cultists as disposable pawns. When prepared, Dark Cultists underwent corruption through ritual arrays, turning them into beasts that could understand special commands. Those who transformed by taking the potion became monsters acting purely on instinct.
The slaughter went smoothly, taking just over 20 minutes in total. However, Nio still couldn’t fully control the scale of his “life absorption” skill. The effect was like gobbling up beef jerky—only when the jerky met water in his stomach and swelled did he start to feel stuffed. But this energy wasn’t like food; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t vomit it out.
His face burned, his eyes burned, and it felt like fire was flowing through his nostrils with each breath. Every muscle in his body seemed to be swelling, as if about to explode… Nio felt as if he had consumed over a hundred pounds of tonic, with a strange, exhilarating energy suppressed inside him. He vaguely realized that if this continued, his body would collapse.
“Damn it…” This was a perfect example of how plans can fall apart due to unexpected changes and the disastrous effects of sudden ideas. Nio finally understood.
It was time to test his emergency response skills. While cleaning up the dried corpses, Nio thought of a plan. Eventually, the 16 cultists turned into two large bundles made of bed sheets. Nio carried them outside, took a few detours, and entered the backyard of Macken’s blacksmith shop.
Old Macken was both a teacher and friend to Nio. Nio knew that there was something peculiar about the vegetable cellar in Macken’s backyard—a hidden small storage area used to keep prohibited iron weapons. Things like crossbows and swords—if ordinary blacksmiths wanted to forge and sell them, they needed relevant permits and paid heavy taxes. It was normal for Macken to earn some gray income to support his family.

Nio really hoped to see the Mackens when opening the secret door of the small chamber, even if it meant facing an attack. Yet reality was cruel—the Mackens clearly hadn’t had time to hide in that secret room. Nio threw two large bundles of corpses into the chamber and grabbed a ready-made yew bow blank from inside. His hunting bow was made of elm wood, suitable for hunting birds or small beasts but too weak for combat. Now that his strength had grown and he had the Whetstone Rune Fal, he could craft stronger bows, and the strings from elm wood were excellent—perfect for use now. He also added lead weights to his cyan steel crosssword. With greater strength, his previously comfortable sword felt a bit light; the hilt and guard of his crosssword had screws that could be tightened, allowing him to replace the internal stone weights with lead ones, increasing the sword’s weight. Of course, this disrupted the weight balance between the blade and hilt, shifting the center of gravity backward—a feature usually favored by cavalry for slashing and thrusting, though its effectiveness for those purposes was diminished. Nio, of course, knew all these practical details well. After leaving the Mackens’ house, Nio had put on slightly loose Dark Cultist clothing. He was feeling extremely restless due to pent-up energy; he had only had time for a quick fix before setting off in haste. He needed to vent his anger, and the best way to do that was through battle. Nio felt an urge to directly challenge the leader of the local Dark Claws, but fortunately, he retained some clarity of mind and understood that the restlessness had nothing to do with his strength. He guessed the leader of the Dark Claws must be at least level 7 or higher—challenging him would be tantamount to seeking death. Day was already breaking, with the morning sun driving away the last remnants of darkness. Nio strode quickly, heading toward the cemetery west of the town. The cemetery in Tulip Town was located behind the church, half on flat ground and half on a mound. Half of that mound had been cut away, creating a cliff over ten meters high, so there was no need to build town walls. Nio figured that since it was a place for undead, they would surely be active there, and since the Graves of Revenants were not far away, those grave sites were likely also in this area. Revenants and necromancers were the things Nio feared the most. Taking advantage of his excess energy, he planned to risk his life to try and kill a necromancer, ideally destroying the grave sites as well. If successful, it would undoubtedly make the rescue operation much easier.