I am the Demon King of the Dungeon!

Arthas said nothing, but slowly walked into the hall, his boots making a dull sound on the stone slabs.

The people on the benches on both sides looked at the stranger, and a few of them shifted their positions to the side, trying to make room.

Arthas walked to the center of the hall, stopped, and looked around. There was the ouroboros mural on the dome, the wooden benches on both sides, dozens of pious faces, the faceless human-shaped statue on the high platform, and the middle-aged man in a golden robe.

Do you know what's happening outside?

"The Lord's servants are carrying out the Lord's will; whatever happens is the Lord's arrangement."

"You have come here because you have been called by the Lord. Please sit down."

The man in the golden robe's smile remained unchanged.

"More than a dozen people died outside."

"These sacrifices were necessary for the Lord's great cause. Although their bodies perished, their souls have returned to the Lord's embrace and received eternal life."

"Do you know where those people came from?"

"Like you, I am guided by the Lord."

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"I was captured by you."

The surrounding believers showed no emotional change.

Upon seeing this, Arthas revealed a disdainful sneer.

The man in the golden robe's smile changed slightly; it didn't disappear, but rather became more compassionate and tolerant.

"Young man, you do not yet understand the Lord's great deeds. If you are willing to stay and listen to my sermon today, you will understand a little."

"No."

Arthas raised his hand, and hellfire shot out from his palm, shooting straight towards the dome. The black flames collided with the Ouroboros mural, and the mural instantly burst into flames. The golden paint turned into black smoke in the high temperature, and the Ouroboros's body broke off, twisted, and fell off piece by piece.

The fragments fell, hitting the wooden benches, the dark blue robes, and the devout faces.

But strangely, no one reacted.

There was no panic, nor any disturbance.

Everyone remained seated obediently on the bench.

Arthas couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to run?"

The believers looked at each other and smiled blankly.

Why did you run away?

"To die is to return to the Lord's embrace."

"Very well." Arthas glanced around; all the cultists wore the same expression. He sighed softly. "Then I'll send you on your way."

Hellfire began to erupt from all directions.

"You..." The golden-robed man's smile finally vanished, his lips trembling. "Who exactly are you?"

Arthas chuckled. "Your lord is so remarkable, why don't you go down and ask him?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the fires of hell had already reached the podium.

The man in the golden robe scrambled off the stage and tried to run towards the door, but Arthas grabbed his collar with one hand.

"Why are you running away? Don't you want to return to the Lord's embrace? It seems your faith is insufficient."

After saying that, Arthas threw the man in the golden robes into the flames.

In an instant, the fires of hell engulfed his screams and also consumed all the brainwashed followers.

There were no living creatures left in the hall, only ashes covering the entire floor, like a black snowfall.

Arthas stood in the center of the ashes, his boots crunching softly on the black dust. He looked around to make sure no one was left in the hall.

He walked deeper into the hall, past the high platform, past the faceless statue that was half melted away, and stood before the wall at the very back of the hall.

A huge tapestry hung on the wall, with a dark red background, gold thread, and an embroidered ouroboros pattern.

Arthas tore off the tapestry, revealing a stone door.

The stone gate was very small, only half a person's height, and was hidden behind the tapestry. If the hellfire hadn't burned half of the tapestry, no one would have been able to find it.

Arthas raised his foot and kicked open the stone door.

The stone door suddenly cracked open with a loud bang.

Behind the door was a narrow passage, only wide enough for one person to pass through. Oil lamps were embedded in the walls on both sides of the passage, and the lamp oil still emitted a nauseatingly sweet smell.

The passage wasn't long; after walking about twenty steps, it came to an end. At the end was a wooden door, without a lock or an ouroboros pattern, only a bronze plaque with two words engraved on it: "Warehouse".

Alsace pushed open the door.

Wooden shelves were nailed to the walls of the room, filled with bottles and jars. Some jars contained liquids that gleamed a dark reddish light under the oil lamp; others contained powders—white, gray, and black—it was impossible to tell what they were.

In the corner of the room, there were several burlap sacks piled up, bulging as if they contained something.

Arthas walked over and kicked one of the burlap sacks. The sack fell over, the opening came undone, and several dark red things rolled out.

heart.

The human heart.

Arthas crouched down and looked at the hearts. Some were shriveled, as if they had been stored away for a long time; others were still fresh, with a thin film of blood on the surface, glistening slightly under the oil lamp.

Each heart was pierced with a fine black needle, the end of which was connected to a silver thread, which converged to the stone pillar in the center of the room.

Arthas followed the silver line to the stone pillar.

The stone pillar is covered with densely packed runes. The lines of the runes glow with a dark red light under the oil lamp, as if they are breathing, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

The silver threads converge at the top of the stone pillar, where they wrap around a fist-sized black gemstone.

The surface of the gemstone has cracks, from which a dark red light seeps out, and you can see something moving inside.

Arthas stood up, walked to the pillar, and reached out to grasp the black gem. The gem was very cold, as if he were holding a block of ice.

He pulled hard, and the silver threads snapped one by one, causing the gemstone to fall from the top of the stone pillar and land in his palm.

Suddenly, Arthas felt a gust of wind behind him. He turned to the side, and a short sword grazed his ribs and embedded itself in the stone pillar in front of him, its hilt still trembling.

The blade was very thin, gleaming with a bluish-purple light—

Poisoning.

Arthas turned around.

A woman stood three steps behind him.

She wore a close-fitting black leather armor, her long hair was tied in a high ponytail, she held a short knife in her hand, and had a strange smile on her face, her eyes as empty as a stagnant pool.

"You're faster than I expected."

"Are you part of a religious sect?"

"I am the Lord's sword."

"Did you do those three adventurers?"

"That's right, I chopped off the big guy's leg. The round-faced one... he was quite noisy, so I cut off his tongue. And I gouged out the little girl's eyes too, she was so funny, she kept begging me..."

The woman tilted her head, a slight smile playing on her lips, and excitement gleaming in her eyes.

"Do you know what the little girl with the bow said at the end?" The woman's voice was soft, with a morbid pleasure in it. "She said, 'Please, please let me go. I need to go back to see my brother.'"

"And that tall guy, his legs were really hard to cut. My hands were tired from chopping before I finally managed to cut one off."

"The funniest one was that round-faced kid, he kept talking non-stop about the Adventurers' Guild and the law, so I had to cut his tongue out..."

The woman looked at Arthas, hoping to see anger, pain, or any expression she recognized on his face.

However, Arthas simply watched her silently.

"Are you done talking?"