Han stood on the edge of the altar and watched as two of his men pushed the warlock over.

The warlock was a young man, with unusually long hair, waist-length hair. His head and face were covered in blood, making his distorted expression look particularly fierce. The army uniform on his body, which had once been neat and straight, was now stained with all kinds of stains and mud, and crumpled. And the big bag on his head, which almost deformed his entire head, explains why he became a captive.

I guess I was unconscious after getting a blow to the head.

Han's gaze met those angry and unwilling eyes. The big bag on his head means that he has at least a concussion. This may explain why his eyes are clearly full of anger, but he needs two people to carry him so that he does not fall. The eyes of both sides only met for a moment, and Han turned his attention away. Now he has slowly become accustomed to it, and the captured warlocks are basically this virtue - anger and hatred. If they were given the chance, they would pounce, even with their nails and teeth, and tear to shreds these traitors who dared to resist and, worse, who had the audacity to resist, and what was worse yet, that they had won.

Maybe the change was so sudden that they didn't even have time to turn the corner in their heads. They are furious and full of hatred, unable to accept that being warlocks can be easily defeated by ordinary people. So much so that he ignores that at this moment he is a prisoner, and that everything, including his own life, is in the hands of the victor.

On the side, many of his subordinates were already lined up. However, most of them were not trained soldiers, so even at this time, there was an atmosphere of chaos and disorder.

The news of victory, like a spring breeze blowing on the earth, instantly summoned countless young sprouts from the dead ground. Even Han himself didn't expect it to be so simple.

He had been here for only ten days - only one car, a dozen people, disguised as a small caravan. However, he was soon warmly welcomed by members of the local Dark Alliance Brotherhood. "There's already a way to fight the sorcerers' vicious magic!" the news spread with an unstoppable fire, as one mouth spoke to the other. The expectation of victory led many sympathizers and supporters to join him, and in a short time he was able to assemble a team of hundreds of men capable of fighting.

There's a reason for that - the area is a frontier of the Radiant Moon faction, insignificant, with the only feature being a medium-sized foundry. The foundry was capable of producing a wide range of vehicles – as long as the required quota was handed in, the higher-ups, including the local governor, did not care about how it was performing. This gives foundry management a rare opportunity. They have profited handsomely by raising production hours and lowering wages almost endlessly. They and their families live in a beautiful town nearby, living a carefree life as a soil emperor.

As for the low-level workers who are being squeezed - no one cares at all. Anyway, they can't rebel, and they can't cause chaos. So, the idea of the Dark Alliance Brotherhood has a broad base here, with too many supporters and potential supporters.

When it all happened, the management of this small foundry was in the dark. They didn't even notice that such a dangerous snake had come to their feet. It's no wonder that a team of thousands of people may be alarming, but a dozen or so is a different story entirely. In particular, there was not even a single warlock in the group.

What followed was completely unsurprising – first with a surprise attack. The defenses of the entire foundry were already weak, and some of them fell to the enemy. It's hard to lose in this situation. The top levels were all taken down, and then there was a battle with little suspense. The true rulers of the foundry, the warlocks, never imagined that their magic would one day fail.

A video was shown in front of everyone in the form of an air projection.

The young captive turned his head and looked at the contents of the video. It was a familiar memory, and it wasn't that long ago.

They had previously worn helmets majestically and walked in gravity-defying vehicles. The engines of the brand-new vehicles made a faint but slightly dull noise, as if they wanted to fly away but were artificially limited in their power. They carried their own carved weapons, which jingled in the car and glittered in the sun. Everyone was dressed in neat military uniforms, swaying in the car, and on the belts were all kinds of beautiful ornaments, eye-catching and dazzling.

They were warmly welcomed as they passed through the town. Many residents brought them all kinds of supplies. And a few old men brought more drinks and fruits and vegetables, as well as wine.

"Even if it's just one, bring the leaders of the Brotherhood and show us what the new bandits are like when they come out of the mountains. ”

"They will surely be driven here, so prepare the instruments of torture. Someone replied.

He didn't know who had recorded the video — it was weird, but when he thought about it, he didn't find it difficult. Anyone can do it. Because they never thought of using any special tactical techniques or anything like that, and they didn't care about the secrecy of their actions at all. And, what's the use of this video?

Obviously, it doesn't make any sense to play it at this point. Because the battle is over - playing it before the battle can also be said to boost morale and make the soldiers firm in their will to fight. After the battle, why is that?

He suddenly figured it out, and his face, which was already pale from pain, instantly turned pale.

As everyone can imagine, this video succeeded in stirring up the hatred of the rebels. Another captive, a warlock with a wounded leg, was pulled aside by several angry rebels. It looked like an altar, with a shoddy stone sculpture – but despite the crudeness, you could see that the sculpture symbolized the sun.

"Great Kecha Goat," he heard the man called Han—who was undoubtedly the leader of this group of rebels, and undoubtedly the initiator of this rebellion—go up to the altar and salute with reverence.

Foolish faith!, he laughed inwardly. Weak people who are unable to face the truth often seek solace in something illusory. So this kind of inexplicable belief often arises, and warlocks have long been accustomed to it. But whatever this belief is, when they are finally defeated by the Warlocks, it will be abandoned, vanished, and ceases to exist.

However, Han's movements were a little quicker than expected. His hand pulled a long, sharp dagger from his belt like lightning and walked towards the wounded man. The two rebels who had been holding him right and left immediately pushed away. The wounded knew that it was bad, but the injury to his leg made it impossible for him to avoid the fatal blow.

The dagger was crisp and sharp, and without hesitation, it cut a hole directly in his throat. The wounded man covered his neck with his hands, but blood gushed from between his fingers. He wanted to say something, but there was only a bleeding sound in his throat. He staggered, and then his injured leg could not support his body, and he fell on his back. Moreover, there is no longer a chance to stand up.

“…… I dedicate this enemy to you!" Han shouted loudly. There seemed to be some power in the dark that was giving back to him, making him look extraordinarily tall and his body seemed to glow.

"Chief?" asked the rebel on the side, hesitantly.

"More," Han said without hesitation. "Our god needs more sacrifices!"

Two more people were pushed up. The young warlock noticed that these were not soldiers, but civilians. One of them was a little familiar, and he immediately remembered that it was a resident of the town. Then he realized that the rebels did not immediately end everything after the victory, but attacked the town immediately, and presumably all the people in it were captured.

This guess was correct, for he saw a whole procession of men, women, and children, all tied behind their backs. These were the townspeople, the warlocks, or the relatives of the nobles. Each of them was terrified, not knowing what their fate would be, and some of the younger ones were crying.

Without hesitation, Han slit the throats of the two men, leaving them to lie in a pool of blood in their dying struggles. It is important to note that although cutting the throat is a method of killing since ancient times, in practice, there is a gap between the cutting of the throat and death. Those who are lucky can even struggle for more than ten minutes after having their throats cut.

The bloody scene frightened the young warlock. But before it was his turn to think about it, someone had already dragged him in front of Han. He struggled, protested, hurled, tried to use his magic. But it was useless, the heavy blow to the head made him weak and weak at the moment, even if it was magic power, it couldn't be effectively released, not to mention that the other party still had equipment that weakened the effect of magic power.

The sharp blade slashed through his neck, and he could clearly feel his life flowing with the blood. Moreover, there was an inexplicable sense in the darkness that he knew that his passing life force was being absorbed by an unknown way, teleported to some distant place away from the endless void. He struggled to reveal it to the others, but all he could say was a slight "hehe" sound coming out of his mouth.

"Chief...... Do you want them all?", someone next to him asked a little surprised.

"All of them. Han's face was like a layer of frost. "This is God's command! Our God needs blood as a sacrifice! ”

"But ......"

"No, but. Han said. "Did you see the video just now? What would have happened if we had lost?" he said without hesitation. "Do you expect these warlocks to be merciful and spare our lives?"

The subordinate did not answer. This answer obviously does not need to be argued, that video already answers everything.

"In that case, it's just a waste now!" replied Han.

A new sacrifice was brought up, and he handed the dagger in his hand to another man. Not everyone hesitates, and some people are full of hatred for warlocks, such as this one. Without hesitation, he slit the throat of his victim.

Han himself stood aside...... He didn't know if it was an order he had received alone, or if everyone had received it. But after they were evacuated from the institute, they split into many teams, and almost every team had a priest, someone who could hear God's voice directly. If all the squads had received the order (and if they were able to carry out the order), there was no telling how many people would have been sacrificed today. Although he did not hesitate to die these warlocks and their lackeys. But he never imagined that his god would be so hungry and thirsty.

In the dark, he seemed to hear the relentless and terrifying cries of Kecha Goat. "More...... More...... I want more!!"