A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

"The murderer?" Upon hearing the word "murderer," Bray took a deep breath.

However, the air is really not fresh now; even after taking a deep breath, I don't feel refreshed at all.

Although Bray is more adept at severing the nodes of spells, he is not helpless against divine spells driven by conceptual remnants.

However, I still occasionally feel that the difference between the concepts of gold and silver is really huge.

The other party didn't seem to give their name when casting this spell. Perhaps, strictly speaking, it wasn't a divine spell that existed long ago, but rather the result of them using divine power at will.

Although it doesn't significantly affect the battle, it's still a little concerning.

It's just a matter of how much I care.

"Water flow interruption" or "diversion interruption"

Two swords of different sizes repelled the surrounding assassins, and then a white line appeared in everyone's sight.

This white line stretches from a point incredibly far to the left of the mine, all the way to another distant point on the right.

"Speaking of murderers, you call yourselves the Deathbringers, but how many people have you actually killed?" As countless spirits were dispersed like smoke, Bray, standing behind the undead, scanned each person before him with his right eye.

I can't sense any conviction from them, not even as much as the thirty-fifth rider they're talking about.

That madman who committed murder, at least, seemed to have a firm belief in something.

But these six killers are fundamentally different from that madman; they are not pursuing anything.

If I had to pinpoint what I was pursuing, it would probably be simply the thrill of wielding power.

Who would bother counting these numbers?

"And we're not killing people, we're reaping lives for the great Dizoka."

"It's all for the coming of the true god, for the extinction of the demigods." The tenth rider's tone was full of contempt.

"Isn't it honorable to sacrifice oneself to dispel the gloom of the apocalypse?"

The other five Deathbringers did not object and all tacitly accepted the tenth rider's statement.

"Ah...is that so?" Bray, who had been pondering something, regained his composure with his right eye.

A stagnant pool of water.

"You can't even see the path under your feet, you're already on the edge of a cliff." Bray rarely talks nonsense with the other person.

"Although I have no right to judge others, I always thought I should not shed fearless blood, but in the end I still killed one person after another who insisted on what I thought was right."

Perhaps it was because the other person's voice was so young, so young that Bray felt a little helpless, that he said a few more words.

"What are you babbling about?" the tenth rider said coldly.

"Don't worry about it, it's just that the neighbor is older and we accidentally said a few extra words," Bray said, closing his right eye.

As I approach middle age, I still can't help but nag the younger generation.

Several attacks, imbued with immense divine power and carrying an aura as if to tear the sky and the earth apart, surged straight toward Bree.

This place can be seen from the safe zone of the capital, completely shrouded in an ominous black aura.

By gazing at them, one can faintly hear the whispers of the dead from the underworld.

Then a sword swept out horizontally, and at this moment, the lifeless right eye was still tightly closed.

The connecting lines, invisible to the naked eye, were all severed by this single sword strike.

Those were less lines and more delicate crystal pillars.

It was quite difficult to cut, which is truly worthy of the power of a Gold-Seed.

As Bray slowly opened his right eye, the polluted area was instantly restored.

The air once again smelled of dust.

"You..." The tenth rider stumbled back several steps, clutching his lacerated abdomen in pain.

The remaining Deathbringers, who had been repelled, exchanged glances and made a choice in perfect unison.

Using the power of the concept of the Golden Seed, they awakened all the dead things that should have been sleeping forever from beneath this wilderness.

Rotting arms emerged from the depths of the earth, and the grotesque head of a monster peeked out of the grave, its decaying fangs crushing the rocks in its path.

The whole earth began to tremble.

"Don't do this kind of thing."

“Although the god you worship is related to the dead, it is not a good thing to blaspheme the dead.” Bray sighed and casually swung his sword in his left hand.

"Let me make this clear first, I'm not exactly a pushover..."

"At least not now."

Not a drop of blood stained the blade of the longsword, yet the trembling earth once again fell silent.

The battle continued, but the tenth rider had a strange feeling of being toyed with.

Yes, it was his misconception; Bray didn't have the malicious pleasure of playing tricks on people.

"Don't treat us like fools!" the tenth rider roared, angrily removing his helmet.

"Tenth Rider, what are you doing!" The other Deathbringers were stunned when they saw the Tenth Rider take off his helmet.

"We must avenge the thirty-fifth rider! Don't forget our purpose!" roared the tenth rider.

However, it is he who has forgotten his original purpose.

Anger surged within him, and the tenth rider trembled all over.

Why was he so angry? Why was he so angry that his whole body was trembling?

Bray didn't quite understand why.

I doubt even he could have understood why when he was young.

It was this tenth rider who led a group of people to ambush him, but after being defeated, he became enraged on his own.

Even now, Bray can still feel the divine magical mark that the thirty-fifth rider unknowingly etched onto his body before his death.

They were able to find themselves thanks to this mark.

Of course, there's also a reason why Bray didn't remove the mark.

His main goal was to understand these death hunters better and to find out what was going on with the "Wandering Tomb".

Unfortunately, what he saw was a group of executioners, people obsessed with power.

In such an apocalyptic world, it would be foolish to remain immersed in power that does not belong to oneself.

But as expected, anything, no matter how foolish, can happen.

The other party has come seeking revenge and to demonstrate their power.

Then, after being severely defeated, he became so enraged and unreasonable.

The instigator, however, felt he had every right to be furious.

“We are no match for him, we should go back and let…” one of the fellow Deathbringers said to the Tenth Rider, clutching his wound.

"Shut up! Are you still Lord Dizoka's messenger?" the tenth rider suddenly shouted.

"After I kill you, I will wipe out the safe zone behind you."

"I have this ability, and every one of us who takes lives has this ability!"

Suddenly, without hesitation, the two swords slashed at the tenth rider.

The one wielding the sword was Bray.

“I’ve said it before… I’m not a pushover, not an adventurer who won’t kill,” Bray said coldly.

"Thump!!!!!" But Bray's sword was blocked by a giant skeletal hand that appeared out of nowhere.

"..." Bray frowned, his sword unable to dissect the skeleton.

And this isn't some kind of divine magic these guys possess; it's something else entirely.

"Look carefully, I'm not someone you can just trample on!"

"No demigod can trample on me!"

"They can't! Neither can you!" A morbid madness could be seen on the face of the tenth rider who had taken off his helmet.

His madness was fueled by boundless fear; no one knew what he was afraid of, or why he was so resistant to the fact that he had been defeated.

Unfortunately, now that things have come to this, blocked by the giant skeletal hand, Bray and the other five Deathbringers can only watch as the Tenth Rider does what he does next.

The tenth rider laughed as he pierced his own chest with his hand, and the next moment, the undead on the ground coiled around him like a tower.

The tenth rider, whose face was only half visible and who was entangled by the undead, roared in an almost frenzied voice.

Just as he was feeling incredibly angry, he heard a voice.

That was an incredibly familiar voice; it was the voice that had saved everyone back then.

"Yes, that's it."

"Take the life of the person before you, take all the lives behind him, and then you will win my favor."

It was this voice, it was this god, who made me a strong person, instead of an ant under the feet of a demigod.

He never wants to experience that crawling, worm-like life again, not even for a second.

"What is this...is this a divine spell of self-sacrifice?" Countless groaning corpses appeared beneath the feet of the other Deathbringers.

"We didn't use any divine magic! Why did we climb up here on our own!"

A killer who habitually takes other people's lives trembles when he himself is about to die.

No matter how much they cried out, they could only be devoured like the tenth rider.

The only difference is the expression.

"Chosen one of my great mother, fight well against my kin..."

"Ha, it can only last for a few seconds after all... What a pity."

As that ethereal voice faded, the giant skeletal hand that had been blocking the way instantly turned into bone dust.

"Use your remaining eye to see clearly!" a deep voice suddenly rang out.

A tall figure rose from the ground, and the bodies of the six death hunters were completely swallowed up and disappeared.

The voice belonged to a giant wearing skeletal armor.

He held a scythe as large as a watchtower in his hand, and beneath his helmet were scarlet eyes.

Although the giant's voice was muffled coming from under his helmet, it was not difficult to tell that it was the voice of the tenth rider.

Despite its magnificent body being covered in armor made of bones, it still fails to evoke any impression of "ugliness" or "horror."

"In accordance with Lord Dizoka's divine decree, you may simply die here."

But Bray didn't hear the madman's ramblings of the mighty skeleton knight; he was more concerned about the Golden Seed who had intervened.

Although he knew that the Golden Seeds could intervene in this world, Bray did not expect that if the Golden Seeds acted recklessly, they could intervene to such a severe extent.

Ummkandar, the demigod ruler, once said that he would not allow the Golden Race to descend.

Two years later, the gold mine started to show signs of activity. Was it about to give out?

"You can still be distracted in the face of the great me? You have quite the nerve!" The tenth rider, now a skeleton knight, noticed Bray's expression and roared in fury.

The sickle was swung, and the world changed.

Each strike from this skeletal knight carries a powerful force capable of altering its surroundings.

Even after finally dispelling the corrupt domain, He brought it back here once again.

"So what are you after?" Bray sighed deeply.

In truth, Bray didn't really want his two swords stained with meaningless blood.

But often, one has no choice but to get stained with such blood.

No matter how helpless you feel, you have no choice but to cut it off.

"Whoosh!" The tenth rider didn't say anything more and went straight for the wrath.

Wherever the scythe passed, wronged souls howled and the winds of death swept through.