"How are the statistics coming along?"
The token supplier immediately replied: "Lord Derek, the statistics have been completed."
"The magician captured a total of fifty-four."
Upon hearing this, Derek and Gidi frowned slightly.
Derek said, "Only fifty-four? That's so few? Ironfist City is a city of tens of thousands of people, after all."
The person holding the token quickly explained, "Yes...yes, sir."
"Although Ironfist City has many commoners, its overall strength is far inferior to other forces, which is why there are so few mages."
Derek looked troubled.
He and Jidi traveled together, each with a task involving a hundred mages, otherwise they would have difficulty reporting back.
We've only caught a little over a hundred so far, looks like we'll have to find a powerful force to help us.
"Understood. Take three days to rest, then head to the next target."
"You can do as you please with the people in the city for three days, but remember, you cannot touch those mages! Understand!?"
Token: "Yes, yes, sir, I will keep a close eye on those magicians."
Derek put away the token, glanced at Gidi on the throne, and said.
"Besides the Queen, there are other women. Are you sure you don't want to give it a try?"
Jidi snorted coldly, "I prefer killing to women. You can have them all. I'm going to go into the city and kill some people for fun."
After saying that, he transformed into a streak of purple light and flew out of the palace.
Derek shook his head and walked back into the depths of the palace.
...
Deep in the desolate western lands lies a magnificent city built of sand and stone.
The city walls are decorated with terrifying masks and thorn patterns.
This is the headquarters of the Mad Church.
Although the environment in the city was extremely serious, it was still much better than Ironfist City.
Although violence and bloodshed still exist within this formidable city, they are not frequent.
But fanatical followers of the cult could be seen everywhere spreading their faith to the city's residents.
At the very center of the city stood a magnificent palace complex, the residence of the messenger of God from the Mad Cult.
Our gaze shifts to an empty palace within the palace complex.
A blood-stained stone platform sits in the center of the empty palace, covered with dried blood. Beneath the congealed blood lies an extremely ancient magic circle.
If Renn were here, he would immediately recognize that this is a magic circle used for offering sacrifices to the gods.
Beside the sacrificial stone altar, a man in black robes stood quietly.
Before long, with the sound of chains scraping against each other, a group of disheveled and emaciated mages were led in like pigs by an elder of the Mad Church.
The dozen or so mages, their feet chained and their magic sealed, slowly entered the palace.
"My lord, the person has been brought." The elder bowed to the man in black robes, his attitude extremely respectful.
The man in black robes didn't turn around; he simply waved for him to leave.
The elder nodded and left the palace, leaving the group of mages inside.
The group of mages stared in terror at the black-robed man in the distance and the blood-red stone platform in front of them; some of the more mentally unstable ones even lost control of their bladders.
With a wave of his hand, the black-robed man sent the group of mages floating into the air, flying towards the stone platform.
The magicians struggled in vain, and finally sat on the stone platform, their faces ashen.
The man in black robes muttered something softly, then opened his arms, lifted the black robe on his head, and roared with a sinister laugh.
"Great God of Curses, your most loyal servant pays you the highest tribute!"
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