CHAPTER 121: AN ALLEYWAY FIGHT

As Wang Yu agreed to Sieg's request, a fierce chase was taking place in the underground city of the capital's shadow. Several orcs and a dark elf were fleeing in panic. Leading the orcs through the labyrinthine buildings of the underground city was a young dark elf—Holo's eldest son, Homien.

Hot on their heels was a gang of black-uniformed fighters, each with the emblem of a crimson spider on their chests.

These spider-clad figures were hunters from the notorious "Spiderweb." In fact, they were the ones who had originally been hunting Holo.

Non-human trade and slavery was strictly prohibited in the capital. However, in the capital's shadow—a lawless, underground zone deliberately overlooked by the royal family—it was a highly lucrative and common business.

Most non-human species were smuggled into the capital's shadow through hidden passages outside the city. There, they were sold in an unregulated market.

After changing hands multiple times, their prices would often double before being funneled into the hands of well-connected merchants and even nobles in the strictly regulated capital on the surface.

"Spiderweb" was one of the most infamous players in the slave trade, renowned for its intricate intelligence network and vast network of informants.

Once they homed in on a target, even if the target managed to escape, any misstep—any accidental brush against their invisible web—would trigger a relentless hunt, ultimately leading to pursuit and capture.

The other non-humans might not have spent enough time in the capital's shadow to understand the true horror of "Spiderweb," but Homien had been marked by them ever since they started hunting his father, Holo.

He had been leading a group of orcs—one of the most populous species in their church—on a mission to procure supplies for the church. However, the moment they stepped out of their territory on Black Street, they were immediately spotted by Spiderweb's informants.

If not for the presence of a seasoned orc warrior among them, one who had served as a frontline soldier and detected the ambush in time, they might have been surrounded and captured before even realizing they were being hunted.

Now, Homien and the orcs were desperately sprinting through the city's alleyways, trying to shake off their pursuers via the chaos of the crowded streets.

But the moment the underground city's residents noticed the Spiderweb pursuers, they quickly cleared out. None of them dared risk getting caught in the crossfire. Spiderweb was well known to have ruthless killers.

Without the chaotic crowd to obstruct the hunters, Homien's group found themselves at an increasing disadvantage. Initially, their superior physical abilities had allowed them to maintain some distance from their pursuers.

However, as time wore on, the orcs—who lacked agility and endurance compared to Homien—began to show signs of exhaustion. Soon, only the swift and nimble dark elf could maintain his top speed.

That wasn't the only problem. Spiderweb's knowledge of the underground city far surpassed Homien's. Multiple times, their pursuers had somehow managed to cut them off, appearing ahead of them as if anticipating their every move.

If not for the sheer chaos of the city's layout—its haphazard, overlapping structures, the precarious platforms and walkways, and the countless pipes leading who-knows-where—their pursuers would have already captured them.

The underground city was a three-dimensional labyrinth, allowing Spiderweb to take shortcuts, but also giving Homien and the orcs opportunities to escape without running into dead ends.

"Homien, you run on ahead! Let the church know that we've been exposed! Lady Darkness and Mr. Holo need to be prepared!" shouted the one-eyed orc with a massive scar across his chest desperately.

"What?! No! Wait, what do you mean our church has been exposed?" Homien refused, frowning. He had assumed that Spiderweb was simply targeting them because they were non-humans—after all, these hunters attacked any non-human they saw.

"Haven't you noticed? Those bastards haven't used a single lethal weapon on us. They've just been herding us, with more hunters joining in the pursuit as they go. They want us alive!"

The orc's voice was filled with fury, but his reasoning was crystal-clear. For a species known for their explosive temper, his composure was a testament to his incredible willpower.

"This... But Archbishop Wang Yu said that, on the surface, we're legally registered as a human faith! Did they notice the declining numbers of non-humans in other areas?"

Homien's head whirled. The intent behind this hunt was obvious—they wanted to capture living members of the Church of Nightfall to locate the stronghold of their non-human congregation.

"It's unlikely. The underground city still has plenty of non-humans. Those who have joined the Lady of the Night are a minority. There wouldn't have been a noticeable shift in the non-human population. These hunters must have received information from somewhere else."

"What? No way! Someone from our church leaked information? But how? The only ones who know our secrets wouldn't betray us! Damn it, I can't think of anyone... Could it be the human members who joined us?"

"Calm down, Homien. They're just believers of the Lady of the Night, like us. You're projecting your suspicion onto the entire human race. How is that any different from the way others discriminate against us?"

Homien found himself struggling to remain rational. His ragged breathing was no longer just from running—it was from the growing anger and suspicion gnawing at him.

Unconsciously, his doubts began to extend toward the few human believers in the Church of Nightfall.

"Sorry... I lost my cool. But we can't let them capture us and extract information." Homien sighed. Thankfully, the battle-hardened orc had pulled him back from the edge of paranoia.

"Homien, no one can stop an orc from dying when he chooses to die. We won't let them get anything out of us—so run! You're fast, aren't you? Take this message back to Lady Darkness and Mr. Holo. They'll know what to do. We'll buy you time."

The orc grinned as he shoved Homien forward. The sudden push sent Homien stumbling mid-run, forcing him to focus on regaining his balance rather than arguing.

By the time he steadied himself and looked back, his orc companions were no longer running with him. Instead, furious, primal roars echoed behind him.

One by one, the orcs' green skin turned crimson. Their muscles bulged; their bodies swelled.

"Damn it!" Homien cursed through gritted teeth. He didn't look back again. The orcs had gone berserk—their racial ability. In that state, they lost all rationality and attacked anything that wasn't their kin.

This was precisely why some slave traders used orcs as war slaves. Berserk orcs felt no pain and feared no death. They were the perfect weapon.

Now that his comrades had gone berserk, Homien knew he had only one choice left: to run. They had chosen to sacrifice themselves to buy him time. No one could stop berserk orcs from charging to their death.

Homien pushed himself to the limit. The world blurred around him as he moved too fast for his eyes to properly process his surroundings.

He pushed his druidic powers to the limit. The keen senses of an eagle and the swiftness of a black panther enhanced his body. Unfortunately, he had yet to reach his father's mastery, so he couldn't take on an animal form; otherwise, he could have moved even faster.

He knew the orcs couldn't buy him much time. The fatal flaw of their berserk state was their loss of rationality. The berserk orcs might be powerful, but the cunning hunters could easily take advantage of the complex urban terrain to toy with them. He didn't have much time.

Struggling to breathe, Homien approached the district under the Lady of the Night's protection. Within a certain range of this street, the followers of the Church of Nightfall would be granted sanctuary and be able to conceal themselves instantly through prayer. Though both his stamina and magical reserves were nearly depleted, as long as he could reach the street...

Out of the corner of his eye, and simultaneously with his keen hearing, detected a shadow darting between the intricate buildings nearby. A grayish-black cloak trailed behind, leaving a visible trace in the air.

"A ranger?" Homien was startled. That figure's speed was already on par with his own—perhaps even faster. Only advanced knights or those specializing in agility-based professions could achieve such speeds.

Agility-specialized rangers sacrificed defense and offensive power in exchange for speed and reflexes beyond compare. That grayish-black silhouette must have been a ranger.

In the capital's shadow, there were few truly powerful factions. Even in long-established gangs like the Spiderweb, there was surely no more than one grand knight and twenty ordinary knights. High-ranking knights were even scarcer. The ranger pursuing Homien was likely at the level of an ordinary knight.

A spinning metallic object suddenly shot out from an alley just as Homien dashed past it. A wire connected two weighted iron balls, which whirled through the air as the entire contraption hurtled toward the fleeing Homien.

Bending his knees, Homien leapt up and kicked off a nearby wall to avoid the sudden projectile.

He then grabbed a pipe that trailed along the street, using it to swing himself onto a rooftop built upon protruding stone blocks, dodging a second attack from below. The agility and dexterity of dark elves—akin to their elven kin—were on full display in that moment.

Without hesitation, he rolled forward and resumed his sprint. Homien was certain the enemy would continue pursuing him. The moment the iron ball struck the brick wall, it instantly shattered the sturdy bricks. Homien couldn't afford to be hit by such a weapon.

His pursuer was undoubtedly stronger than he was. Even with the natural advantages of his dark elf lineage, he could hardly maintain the lead forever. He had to reach his destination as quickly as possible!

Maintaining his speed, he dodged multiple similar attacks coming from all directions. He had no idea where the ranger was, forcing him to react purely defensively while sprinting and evading the ranger's attacks.

Fortunately, since all these attacks came from a distance, dodging—though difficult—was still within his capability. As he ran and avoided the strikes, he began to find a rhythm to it all.

Leaping down from a rooftop, he dashed into a narrow alley. Even the interwoven pipes all around him did nothing to hinder his nimble movements. As expected, an attack came from above—the pursuer was on the rooftops. Homien sidestepped slightly, barely dodging the strike.

"That was close." Just as he exhaled in relief, a sudden sound erupted near his feet, setting off alarms in his mind.

He had fallen into a trap. His habit of mechanically dodging had led him into a mental rut—he had overlooked his surroundings. The falling iron ball had struck a pipe at his feet. Inside was scalding steam.

The ruptured pipe spewed burning vapor onto Homien, followed by boiling water condensing from the steam—second-degree burns at the very least. The damage was limited, but in this high-speed chase, it was fatal.

A thud rang out behind him. The ranger had descended, intending to take advantage of the situation to capture Homien.

Despite the growing pain, Homien continued to run. However, he had barely been keeping ahead of the ranger in the first place.

Now that he was wounded, the distance between them narrowed rapidly. The pursuer was closing in. Flames of despair and fury flared within Homien's heart.

"Duck at the next corner." Suddenly, a voice resonated in his mind, instantly quelling his turbulent emotions. It was the Archbishop.

Instinctively obeying the familiar voice, Homien pushed himself to his limits, keeping his pace steady despite the fact that the enemy was closing in.

Then, at the next corner, he abruptly crouched. The immense momentum sent him tumbling forward, rolling uncontrollably until he crashed into a wall.

Behind him, the charging ranger hesitated for a fraction of a second but did not slow down. That brief hesitation cost him his life.

A hand suddenly swept out from the corner, striking precisely where Homien's head had been a moment ago. Because both individuals were moving at incredible speeds, it almost looked as if the ranger had voluntarily slammed his face into the outstretched palm.

Emerging from the concealment of the Lady of the Night's stealth, the figure pressed his palm against the ranger's face.

"Fireball!" His mental energy flooded the Spellweaver's Tome. A mana crystal immediately powered the desired spell.

A scorching fireball materialized directly in his palm and exploded within the ranger's mouth. His head was instantly reduced to a pile of burning charcoal. His headless corpse collapsed slowly.

A ranger at the level of a formal knight, lacking in defense, had been instantly slain by a single attack.

As the smoke and dust settled, a figure revealed himself. His Spellweaver's Tome was cinched to his waist, and a magical barrier shielded him completely from the fireball's explosion. The Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall, Wang Yu, had arrived.