Chapter 551: Missing One Person!

Chapter 551: A Man Missing!

The woman had indeed blinked. It was impossible to have mistaken it, for Kallen and Neo were acutely attuned to each other's spiritual presence; the probability of both of them misseeing simultaneously, or being dragged together into an illusion, was simply too low.

Immediately following this, the two male clerics behind the woman—one bearing a greatsword upon his back, the other a long spear—felt their respective weapons tremble lightly in near unison.

Kallen and Neo began a synchronized retreat, seeking to open up some distance. *Veen! Veen!*

The spear and the greatsword soared into the air, caught firmly in the grasp of their respective masters. Then, the two silhouettes vanished from their spots, materializing directly in front of Kallen and Neo.

The greatsword, carrying an immensely oppressive weight, clove straight down toward Kallen’s face. The blade’s edge dragged with it a tremendous suction, leaving the wings transformed from the Succubus unable to pull Kallen out of range in time; he could only throw the wings forward, wrapping himself in their protection. *Bang!*

Kallen was smashed into the sand-pit, thrown violently like a massive lead ball.

Yet Kallen quickly beat his wings and flew out from the sand. He did not rush to resume the engagement with the swordsman above, but instead slipped behind the spearman who had gone after Neo.

Extending his right hand, the wings behind him surged forward, condensing into a scimitar within his grip. Meanwhile, a starlight crest rapidly manifested in the palm of Kallen's left hand; he had begun preparing the spell the moment he was hammered into the sand, and now it was fully formed. Then, Kallen lunged, unleashing a scimitar slash at the spearman’s rear, while the starlight from his left palm shot forth, instantly petrifying the ground beneath the spearman's feet. Massive jagged spikes erupted swiftly from all sides, their tips converging upon the spearman—this was the Death Obeisance.

Two against two; there was no need to fight rigidly or insist on individual duels.

Sometimes, seizing an opportunity to help a comrade secure an advantage was the easiest way to break open the entire situation.

The spearman struck the ground with his long spear, gripping the shaft and twisting his wrist with force. In an instant, a powerful wave of air—no, a gale of true energy—erupted, centered upon his weapon.

The terrifying spikes paying obeisance toward him were utterly crushed the moment they entered his perimeter. He then forcibly raised his spear, sweeping it behind him, where a barrier manifested.

Kallen’s scimitar struck the barrier, shattering it, but the efficacy of Kallen’s ambush ended there.

Neo, who had been engaging him previously, required no prompt from Kallen. The moment Kallen was driven into the sea of sand, Neo had been gathering momentum to coordinate; when Kallen struck, Neo lagged his timing slightly, and now, he finally lunged forward.

Aware of Neo’s movement, the spearman responded by thrusting the backward-sweeping spear forward once more. Three daunting beams of black light shot toward Neo in a triangular formation.

Ultimately, the spearman had still been constrained by Kallen's ambush from behind. In an engagement of this caliber, even a momentary distraction was impermissible, let alone being directly hindered.

Far from being forced back, Neo further accelerated his pace mid-charge. Choosing not to evade, his chest was directly impaled by one of the beams of light.

Yet at the very instant of impalement, Neo accelerated yet again. It was this precise burst of speed that made the spearman realize the gravity of the situation. Neo closed the distance, thrusting both arms forward. The spearman began to retreat, but Neo’s onslaught was too swift, denying him the chance; ten fingernails plunged directly into the spearman's chest.

However, just as Neo intended to capitalize on the momentum and disembowel him, his nails became lodged, unable to tear through.

Damn it, armor beneath the divine robes!

For a moment, Neo did not even know whether to be pleased or enraged. Pleased, because the opponent truly possessed an abundance of fine gear, meaning this trip was not in vain; enraged, because if he could not seize the chance to eliminate one quickly and open the field, the confrontation would stall—and there were still so many others unmoved over there, Heaven knew if they would all rise shortly. Thus, if this single strike failed, it might well result in him giving his life for nothing. Fortunately, Neo, with his vast experience of standing on the precipice, possessed an enduring and profound understanding of "quitting while ahead" and "cutting losses." He might not manage it in the stock market, but in reality, his mind was lucid. *Crack, crack.* His ten fingernails snapped cleanly off by his own volition.

Neo’s silhouette pivoted past the spearman’s flank, using himself as the pivot of a compass to drag, shift, and wheel away.

The ten fingernails embedded in the spearman's chest detonated in an instant, blasting the man backward. There was no gory scene of mangled flesh, only a dense, black mist.

Having bypassed the spearman, Neo's form did not slacken in the slightest; drawing a semi-arc, he pounced toward Kallen’s direction. Kallen thrust both hands downward, conjuring chains of Order from beneath the sandy surface.

The swordsman, whom Kallen had momentarily abandoned, materialized behind him. As his greatsword clove down once more, Neo intercepted it; his ten newly regrown, tender fingernails jammed against the greatsword. A shower of sparks erupted, and Neo’s fingers began to twist and deform rapidly. Kallen raised both hands, and thick chains of Order erupted from beneath the sand, twisting toward the swordsman to crush him.

The swordsman chose to retreat voluntarily. Kallen did not pursue, opting instead to have the chains of Order construct a defensive perimeter around himself and Neo.

Neo began using his teeth to bite his fingers one by one, twisting them back into place like tightening screws. Kallen remarked, "We could have killed him."

For Kallen knew that Neo's greatest strength lay in the power of the Light faction; the bloodline of the bloodthirsty demon served more as an auxiliary. As for the power of Order, Neo had to convert it through his Light power to utilize it, meaning he could likely only exert about thirty percent of his true capability.

If, during that previous ambush opportunity, Neo had chosen to strike with a Light faction spell instead of the bloodthirsty demon's power, he would very likely have successfully harvested a life.

Neo replied indifferently, "Kill one, and nine remain. They are all senior predecessors of the same system; if I used Light power, it would make things awkward to discuss afterward."

Hearing this response, Kallen felt a slight jolt in his heart.

Indeed, his own attention had been entirely consumed by the combat earlier, focused on resolving the immediate crisis as quickly as possible, and he had overlooked this aspect.

Yet Neo, faced with the temptation of a successful assault, had managed to maintain restraint.

However, Kallen felt no sense of disappointment, for Neo had always been a figure he learned from.

Furthermore, although Purr had given Neo the moniker of "the fun-seeker," to play so joyfully without playing oneself to death truly required a profound degree of wisdom.

The spearman’s form settled back down. The divine robe upon his chest had shattered, revealing the silver armor beneath—a species of soft mail that appeared exceptionally lightweight, yet could withstand the nail penetration of a bloodthirsty demon of Neo's caliber, which spoke volumes of its staggering defensive power. Even now, only ten black dots could be discerned upon the soft armor; even the prior explosion had failed to breach it. The swordsman’s gaze locked onto the chains of Order surrounding Kallen, and the spearman beside him wore an identical expression. "So, displaying such high-intensity chains of Order is also your way of indicating your identity to them?" Kallen whispered back, "No."

"I'm giving you a stepping stone so we can praise each other's foresight. Why refuse it?" "It's pointless."

"Oh, I see. Life suddenly became dull after leaving the Allen Manor. As someone who has been through it, I understand." Kallen could not be bothered to pay him any further heed; a man like Neo would probably comment on the executioner's wife's figure even if he were bound to the guillotine.

Nevertheless, the situation had indeed shifted. First and foremost, neither the spearman nor the swordsman resumed their attack.

Yet Kallen felt that the personal luster within their eyes was not particularly rich, conveying a sense of being controlled like puppets; however, to view them purely as puppets felt inaccurate, for they possessed a touch more agility. Neo remarked, "Suppressed cognition." "Suppressed cognition?"

"Yes, they are in this state right now. Once cognition is suppressed, thought becomes exceedingly simple. It is a highly cost-effective method of control.

But the prerequisite is that hatred and affection become very distinct and extreme; therefore, the person wishing to issue commands to them must be someone they truly revere.

Much like how a child blindly believes what their parents say, because they do not yet possess the capacity to discern right from wrong." "It seems you have experienced this."

"Nonsense. For a long duration, my cognition was suppressed by Philias. When he said something and I subconsciously obeyed, though I was still myself, I was no longer myself. I am all too familiar with that sensation." At this moment, the eight individuals who had still been "marching" ceased their advance and stood frozen in place. Kallen whispered, "The worst-case scenario: all ten strike together."

If all ten struck together, even factoring in Philomena and the others responsible for support at the rear, their side would possess absolutely no chance of victory. Because the strength of this predecessor squad of the Whip of Order before them was truly formidable; in a singular confrontation, Kallen and Neo would not hold the disadvantage, but when a team engaged together, the resulting effect was often a case where one plus one was greater than three.

"Why can't you have a bit more anticipation for life?" Neo licked his somewhat chapped lips. The rapid healing of his wounds left his vital energy inevitably depleted, yet he continued to add stubbornly, "One must learn to be optimistic." The ten individuals remained entirely motionless.

Following this, upon the sandy ground of the central area they had previously encircled, a sand platform slowly materialized. Atop the platform lay a woman; her chest was shattered, yet it remained discernable that she was beautiful—a beauty woven of gentleness and wildness. Beside the woman lay another corpse, though this one was devoid of a head.

The woman slowly sat up, while the headless corpse beside her remained entirely devoid of motion, evidently as dead as could be.

The luster within the woman's eyes was slightly richer than that of the others. She raised her head, scrutinizing the chains of Order encircling Kallen and Neo, and a smile gradually dawned upon her face.

As she began to smile, smiles emerged upon the faces of the other ten individuals as well.

This collective manifestation of smiles did not strike Kallen or Neo as sinister or bizarre, for they could perceive the sincerity emanating from within those expressions.

They were truly, genuinely happy to behold the colors of Order. "Has the Holy See finally found us?"

Kallen remained silent, leaving the opportunity to speak to Neo, for he knew Neo excelled most at this manner of contingency.

Yet Neo also remained silent, because he felt Kallen possessed a better image; in formal settings, Kallen was more suited to step forward and communicate. Two individuals possessed of a great tacit understanding. At this moment, they possessed none. For a time, neither spoke. Seeing this, the woman spoke again: "We are the Torisa Squad, directly subordinate to the Bread of Order of the Dingle District. We were ordered to pursue and capture the renegade Compasini. We routed the Desert Holy See force that came to receive him; we fulfilled our mission. Yet we suffered the sand-sea curse invoked by Compasini before his death. We were ambushed by the Sand Wraith, and all of us were trapped and sealed here.

We are no longer living, yet we are not entirely dead. We can only remain within this sand-pit, unable to depart. To punish us, the Sand Wraith turned us into mere dolls within the sand, forcing us to endure the endless torment of the yellow sands."

Kallen spoke, "You have suffered. I am Kallen Silva, Captain of the Enforcement Department's Discipline Inspection Office Action Brigade under the York City District's Whip of Order. This is my Director. We traced certain clues and came here to investigate, discovering this place, and discovering you."

"My name is Luna Res Manfur. It feels wonderful to see family again. I hope you can notify the Holy See to dispatch personnel here to help us terminate the curse of this place, granting us true liberation." "Where is the Sand Wraith?" Kallen inquired.

"It left. It departed after leaving its curse upon us. I imagine it returned to the Desert Holy See." Kallen frowned, and Neo frowned as well.

For this defied logic. If that Sand Wraith had truly departed, why had the Desert Holy See sent no one to handle this place? How could they allow that welcoming corpse to stand there for so long? Furthermore, should they not also have recovered Compasini’s skeleton and the remains of the others?

This clearly contradicted the prior shared hypothesis of Kallen and Neo. The reality ought to be that neither the Holy See of Order nor the Desert Holy See had been able to receive tidings from the personnel they had dispatched.

Kallen reflected swiftly, asking in return, "How can we help you break the curse here?"

"If you have a formation master among your ranks, you can arrange three five-fold defensive arrays at the exact center of the sand-pit—the core position of Compasini’s skeleton. So long as the arrays can impede the movement of the sand-sea here for a brief duration, the inertia of the curse will collapse, and we shall obtain our release.

Regrettably, our original dream was to enter the First Knights after death; now, we are no longer qualified to enjoy such glory."

Once the curse was broken, it would mean their true demise, and their physical state clearly no longer conformed to the requirements for entry into the First Knights, as their corpses would highly likely retain not an ounce of spiritual energy. "We can arrange the arrays. We are willing to help you." "Thank you."

"You need not say thank you. This is what we ought to do; our gratitude to you for your sacrifices in those years!" By all rights and reason, facing this group of predecessors from the same system from three hundred years ago, Kallen ought to accord them sufficient respect. Kallen struck his fist against his chest, pronouncing solemnly, "The Whip of Order." All the individuals, including Neo—whose chest wound was still healing and who could still be utilized as a tree-hollow at present—performed the identical gesture, intoning in unison, "For Order."

Kallen addressed Neo, "Director, go to the rear and make the arrangements."

"How about you go and I stay? After all, my rank is higher than yours."

"But I am better looking than you." Neo.

Neo still chose to walk back alone first.

Cullen remained behind, continuing to face them. He addressed the swordsman, saying, "I, too, am accustomed to the sword." The swordsman raised his hand with a swift flick, tossing the weapon from his grip toward Cullen.

Cullen reached out and caught it. The blade was stark and ancient, etched with seven layers of runes. In both its properties and its sheer strength, it surpassed the Sword of Arius he once wielded by several distinct degrees. "A gift for you," the swordsman spoke. "Clang, clang, clang, clang." The weapons held by the others, including sacred artifacts, tumbled to the ground one after another as they echoed in unison, "A gift for you."

Speech came with great difficulty for them; as Neo would have put it, their intellects had been suppressed to the level of infants. Yet, when faced with a request from Cullen, a junior of their own system, they proved boundlessly generous.

In truth, selfishness is the natural instinct of the living. But for them, who were already among the dead, bestowing their possessions upon a comrade who could find use for them was a matter requiring no hesitation at all.

Gazing at the weapons and magical implements scattered in the sand before him, Cullen realized that if he could bring this entire collection back, it would immediately transform his whole squad's equipment from primitive tools to advanced weaponry.

Luna turned her head to look at the headless corpse lying beside her, and spoke.

"My husband, Torisa, was also a swordsman. I suggest that once you have broken the curse of this place, you search thoroughly within the depths of the sea of sand. His Sword of Diamans was once the sidearm of Diamans, a hero of the Whip of Order, and it is far superior to Kuzan's blade. It would be best if you could find it; for such a sword to lie in silence is a desecration." Hearing these words, the swordsman spoke up, "Indeed." Clearly, he agreed wholeheartedly with Luna, believing his captain's swordsmanship and blade to be far superior to his own. Cullen looked toward the headless corpse and asked, "Is he Senior Torisa?"

"Yes, he is my husband. As the captain, his head was severed by the sand wraith. If possible, while you search for the Sword of Diamans, please help us look for his head. Of course, it is also possible that his head has already been carried away by the sand wraith." Cullen spoke, "I have one more question to ask you. When your squad set out, was it at full strength?"

Luna replied, "Of course. The exceptional Torisa squad was never short of elites wishing to join. Even if we suffered casualties, we could replenish our numbers immediately. A complement of twelve people was invariably complete before every departure for a mission. Look, are the twelve of us not all here?"

Cullen nodded. He did not rush to gather the equipment. Instead, gripping the greatsword the swordsman had thrown to him, he slowly assumed a defensive stance, speaking deliberately at the same time, "The complement of a Whip of Order squad is twelve, but for some unknown reason, you seem to have overlooked one detail. That is, the captain's position does not belong within those twelve slots.

Therefore, a full, official Whip of Order squad should consist of thirteen people. You are missing one person."