Chapter 32: Where Is the Princess

The Holy Light is indeed the path to salvation; the young man is firmly convinced of this.

This is because the two people he has "saved" have already ascended to the Kingdom of Heaven. One became a renowned saint, and the other a heroic paladin.

Yet, he truly never expected that, under these circumstances, someone would proactively seek him out to discuss the salvation of the Holy Light and how to perform good deeds.

This brings Ron a great sense of comfort.

At a moment when his inner conviction was wavering due to the dark side of the Royal Capital, the one offering him solace is, surprisingly, a cultist.

Prejudice in the human heart is indeed a towering mountain.

What if he is a cultist? Can a cultist not change for the better?

Although Mr. Snake has fallen into the abyss of darkness and accidentally pledged his faith to an evil god, it seems he still harbors a patch of purity within. He still possesses an instinctive pursuit of goodness!

'It seems my cultivation of the Holy Light is still lacking...'

The young man feels a pang of guilt, yet he secretly makes a firm resolution.

Rest assured, Mr. Snake, I will definitely help you become a better person!

Never give up, never abandon! The elements of the Holy Light echo in Ron’s heart, silently cheering him on.

"Mr. Snake, how can we attain salvation?" The young man asks with a clean, bright smile, posing the most fundamental question.

Seeing Ron’s eager expression, Snake nods repeatedly.

He is truly a talent worthy of his interest.

Generally speaking, normal people would be deeply wary of a cultist like him. Even when trapped in a desperate situation with no way out, they would usually hesitate before abandoning their principles to become a degenerate.

Yet this fellow before him didn't even hesitate; he seemed almost impatient to receive the Matriarch’s salvation.

How miserable must his life have been...

Snake resolves in his heart to cultivate this fellow into a true talent.

"Before we speak of salvation, shouldn't we introduce ourselves?" The cultist looks at Ron, his raspy voice laced with faint kindness.

This makes the blonde youth even more excited, believing that Mr. Snake has recognized his path of the Holy Light.

So, like a man who has finally met a soulmate, he pats his chest and introduces himself:

"I am a formal mage, Mr. Snake. You can just call me Gandalf!"

Doing good deeds without leaving a name is Ron’s personal creed.

A mage, no less! This is truly striking gold!

Snake’s gray eyes brighten, and his expression turns slightly agitated. He cannot even imagine what kind of reward he will receive for bringing this natural-born villain before the Matriarch. Perhaps he himself will be the Compassionate Chosen One foretold by the cult's prophecies!

Thinking of this, Snake takes a deep breath, barely suppressing the burning fire in his heart, and looks at Ron.

"Very well, Gandalf. If there is a share of salvation for me, there will certainly be one for you!"

The cultist makes this excited promise, then picks up his heavy *Bible of Radiance* and walks to the iron bars of the cell, tapping them with a rhythmic beat.

Ron stands where he is, his blonde head bobbing along to the rhythm of the knocks.

Three long knocks and two short, repeating over and over—it seems to be a code.

Sure enough, as Snake repeats the tapping for the seventh time, footsteps echo from the depths of the dim, damp, and musty prison.

"Here is what you wanted. As a reward for running this errand, it’s not too much to take one person with me, right?"

As he speaks, a thin, withered arm passes the heavy *Bible of Radiance* outside the bars.

At the same time, by the dim firelight, Ron catches a clear look at the person on the other side of the bars.

It is a middle-aged man dressed in a priest's vestments with gold patterns on a white background.

A priest of the Church?

Why does he seem so familiar with the cultist, Mr. Snake? And they appear to be engaged in an unspeakable, secret transaction.

This leaves the young man bewildered, as he faintly catches a scent of something unusual.

However, in the next second, his clever mind has a flash of realization.

Ron understands!

Mr. Snake must be an undercover agent, and the intelligence is hidden within the *Bible of Radiance*. No wonder Mr. Snake said the path to salvation lies within this book! Yes, only an undercover agent would dare to meet for a drop-off in a prison.

The middle-aged man takes the *Bible of Radiance*, weighs it in his hand, and nods with satisfaction.

"As you wish. Although these are all our people, I advise you not to be too conspicuous."

"Otherwise, you know the consequences!"

*Pah*, putting on an act!

Snake curses inwardly as he watches the priest walk away. The cult’s mission is complete; it is time to return.

However, as he turns back, he finds the blonde youth looking at him with eager, expectant eyes.

"Mr. Snake, please, you must let me join you!" Ron’s young face is full of sincerity, brimming with impatience.

So proactive?

The cultist is shocked beyond measure, finding it impossible to comprehend. He even feels a strange sense of defeat.

That is the Cult of Pain, known throughout the world for its bloodshed and cruelty. Even the most vicious murderers appear as innocent as children before the Cult of Pain.

He remembers that when he was at the end of his rope and about to be executed, he had spent a full thirty seconds contemplating before accepting the cult's invitation.

Do not underestimate those thirty seconds; on the cult’s "leaderboard," that is a feat good enough to rank in the top fifty.

Because of this, he gained the special favor of the "Compassionate Matriarch."

And now, someone is even more courageous than he was.

He looks at Ron, and Ron looks back at him.

Finally, they share a smile, both suddenly understanding the other's intent.

Everything is understood without a word.

—

Within the Cult of Pain’s stronghold hidden in the canyon, several squads of "Compassionate Matriarch" zealots patrol the surroundings, setting up magical surveillance eyes, vigilant against any potential enemies.

Deep within a cave carved into the canyon, an inhumane interrogation is underway.

"Confess! Where is the eldest daughter of Cayden III!?"

*Slap!*

A palm like a fan strikes the woman’s face, causing her cheek to swell high with purple-red bruises, and she spits out a mouthful of blood.

"I am her!"

Facing the cultist’s interrogation, the woman bites her lip, still refusing to reveal the princess’s whereabouts.

Very well!

Hearing this answer, the man dressed in iron-blooded military uniform, with a scar running from his temple to his lip, reveals a cruel, savage grin.

He grabs a portrait meticulously drawn by the court painter, glances at the beautiful girl with golden hair and blue eyes who looks as if she stepped out of a mythological epic, and delivers another slap.

*SLAP!!!*

The woman’s head tilts sharply to the left from the sheer force, and her loosened teeth fly out along with the blood. Her plain, freckled face looks so wretched and miserable that it is unbearable to behold.

"You think you’re worthy!?"

The "Throat of Pain" Aleka’s cold tone reveals a hint of exhaustion.

Having been a cultist for so many years and having studied countless ways to torture people, this is the first time he has encountered someone with such a stiff upper lip.

They have been at it from day until night, his hand is numb, yet the answer remains the same...

*I am her.*

Wanting to suffer in place of your master?

How could it be that easy!?

If not for the fear of killing her and losing the lead on Cayden III's eldest daughter, he would have long since unleashed various cruel tortures to make this stubborn woman pay.

Now, the leader of this Cult of Pain stronghold is extremely frustrated; he desperately needs a specialist in a specific field to pry this maid’s mouth open.