245 The Millennial Verdic (2/2)
A few rocks stuck out from the snow-covered ground outside one of the tents. All of a sudden, the rocks moved, and they were actually three men dressed in black. The material of their attire was extremely thick and tough, and their faces were covered by their hoods, making them look just like rocks as they appeared out of nowhere without making any noise.
They were deacons from the Divine Hall Judicial Department, or perhaps it was more appropriate to call them executors, as they were the ultimate nightmare of all remnants of Devil's Doctrine and Haotian renegades.
Just as the Central Plains nations were still planning their attack for next spring, Divine Hall Judicial Department had already deployed armies of terribly powerful deacons to infiltrate the depths of the Wilderness.
The attitude of the Divine Hall towards the Desolate was very simple, just like Ning Que's attitude towards his enemy: only a dead Desolate was a good one. All Desolate Men must die. However, these deacons carried important missions, and they were not powerful enough, nor were they willing to enrage the countless powerful warriors of the Desolate tribe.
And yet, as they came face to face with these lone Desolate Men tonight, they found it impossible to suppress their disgust and abhorrence of darkness, as if they could sniff the most repugnant odor of the world, just like a lynx coming across hole-digging rats at night. Despite their lack of facial expressions, they were hardly able to contain the utter excitement they felt inside.
The way they were brought up, and decades of influence from the environment they lived in made their reactions always instinctive, and the cruel chase and extermination of heresy became the greatest source of joy and excitement in their lives.
Thus as the three deacons walked into the isolated tent, it never crossed their mind the repercussions of infuriating the Desolate tribe, and whether it would jeopardize the mission of the Divine Hall. All they could think about was to eliminate the source of the repugnant odor and exterminate these rats, consoled by the thought that, considering the few numbers of Desolate Men left, killing off one would greatly contribute to the cause of Light.
After a few brief sounds, they took the Desolate warrior by surprise and were successful in subduing him and constraining his wife and son.
One of the deacons slowly removed his black hood and looked at the Desolate warrior expressionless as he reached out and put his hand on top of the man's head, and with the voice of a truly devout, uttered the following words, ”In the name of Haotian, execute.”
A shred of extremely pure ray of light shone from the palm of the deacon, and it was as if this light could pierce through solid matter, revealing the bones of his palm so clearly, while also brightening the dark face of the Desolate Man, as well as the rage, angst, and bitterness in his eyes.
The wife and son of the Desolate Man were already dead on the floor, blood tears running down from their faces.
The next moment, the Desolate Man suffered a painful death under the Divine Light of Haotian.
The three deacons slowly covered their faces again with their hood, and walked out of the tent in silence.
The black clouds above the Wilderness concealed the starlight, and the snow and wind kept blowing and beating on their black deacon robes, making flapping sounds.
In the shadows of their black hood, the pale face of the three deacons blushed in a strange way. It took them a long while to readjust their heavy breathing out of excitement back to normal, before walking away at last.
Once again after so many years, the deacons of the Haotian Divine Hall were able to come face to face with their ultimate nemesis and thrust the blow of the millennium.
What took place on that night of heavy wind and snow was certainly worth a place in the creed of Haotian or historical records of the many Central Plains nations. Nevertheless, all traces were buried by snow, leaving no clue whatsoever for the latecomer.
...
...
Ning Que and Mo Shanshan woke up almost at the same time.
They were sleeping in the corner of the tent, and it felt rather humid and cold. However, that wasn't what woke them up. In fact, it was because they detected people approaching, very powerful people.
Mo Shanshan looked at him and said, ”I sensed a feeling of the Haotian Divine Light. They must come from the Divine Hall.”
Ning Que glanced at the mother and son of the Desolate Tribe who were soundly asleep, frowned and said, ”What do we do now?”
Mo Shanshan seemed puzzled as she looked back and asked, ”What do you mean?”
Ning Que shrugged and replied, ”Whose side do we pick if they start to fight?”
Mo Shanshan also frowned. She never considered this question since being a believer of Haotian. She took it for granted that she always stood by the Divine Hall. Was there any necessity to consider anyway?
Ning Que smiled and reminded her, ”Don't forget that we are now living with the Desolate tribe, and if it were the ice-cold deacons from the Judicial Department of the Divine Hall who are coming, they would certainly consider us as traitors.”
Mo Shanshan calmly replied, ”We can explain it, we are here to collect information.”
Ning Que smiled and said, ”I don't think they'll buy that explanation.”
The freezing wind and snow funneled in as the tent drapes lifted, and three rock-like black shadows appeared, looking quiet, solemn and powerful in the light of the tiny bonfire inside the tent.