Vol 2 Chapter 702: In the calculation

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"This is the ritual of the Red Sand Cult? This is the believer of the Red Sand Cult? Huh! It's just a group of flying headless flies. It is hard to imagine that such a pile of has raged on the Redstone Continent for thousands of years!"
Walking on the blood-stained gorge altar like a leisurely courtyard, Fisk's steps were light and straight. From beginning to end, he just glanced at the surrounding "slaughterhouse" with disdain, and then silently walked to the high platform in the center of the gorge.
As for the devout but self-reliant congregants he encountered along the way, Feske simply killed him, and almost every step he took, he would walk past a fragmented body.
The center of the altar is the location of the old priest and the "saint", and Fisk now has priority to kill these two key figures.
The killing of the old sacrificial cult was to completely collapse the chaotic Red Sand Cult followers, and the killing of the "saint" who was still a little girl was to ensure that the "Red Sand Cult" would lose the chance to make a comeback.
Fisk had heard of the reputation of the "saint of the Red Sands". According to legend, the saint named Golanya was discovered in the entire Redstone plane for thousands of years and has the most spiritual qualifications. A good creature, if she is allowed to grow up, it is tantamount to allowing the Red Sand Cult to have a leader who is destined to reach the master level in the future.
Of course, Fisk could not tolerate this kind of thing, so he wanted to strangle the "saint" in the weakest budding period, and would never give the Chisha cult a chance to reignite.
"Mad believers are a group of evil lunatics, even a little girl... From the moment she joined the cult and became a believer, she was a crazy and dangerous enemy"!
With a firm look in his eyes, he convinced himself that Fisk began to speed up his pace.
Due to the failure of the followers of the Red Sands, the few official priests were unexpectedly very bad at fighting, so now Fisk’s soldiers hardly need the help of this master-level "general" to help The enemy killed the ghost and howling wolf.
Now, Fisk only needs to kill the last two spiritual symbols of the "Red Sand Cult", this time the suppression can be successfully completed!
but…………
Will things really go so smoothly?
After all, Fisk was still a somewhat reckless fighter. He didn't know what kind of cards a cult backed by gods might have, let alone understand what kind of obsession a group of lunatics would hold.
In his opinion, the old priest and the "saint" must be trying their best to escape at this time. All he needs to guard against is that they took out some kind of magical equipment to escape.
But...the development of the situation is quite different from what this "general" imagined.
In fact, "escape" is always a non-existent word in the mind of a fanatic. The courage brought by faith allows a fanatic, even an ordinary person, to face the top strong without the slightest fear. Of course, the old priest Nor will he be afraid of Fisk's arrival because of the huge gap in strength.
Therefore, when Fisk's footsteps were nearly a kilometer away from the center of the altar, the old man wearing a crimson sacrificial robe with an extremely solemn expression was already far away from a road deliberately let out by the believers. Watching this majestic "general" far away.
"Old thing, you didn't run away like a bereaved dog? It was really beyond the general's expectation, but the moment of justice has arrived, and you will be punished for such evil!"
Watching the old priest with a victor's posture, Fisk raised the long sword carelessly.
Although the righteous general was talking to the old priest on the surface, in fact he was focusing on the Saint Golanya who was still staying on the altar with his grudge.
Even though the old priest had already "sent" in front of him, Fisk still believed that this was just a plan to gain time for the "saint" to evacuate. After all, as a confident master-level combatant, he can now be sure that he is away from himself. It was impossible for the old priest so close to escape, so the only thing he had to guard against was Saint Golanya on the high platform.
"Tune the tiger away from the mountain? It's just a small skill. I locked all my perceptions on that little madman. I want to see how this so-called "saint" can escape."
This is Fisk's thoughts and his actions.
Now his sword pointed at the old sacrificial rites as just a gesture, and he couldn't tolerate any of the followers of the Red Sand Cult, especially the Golanya who had excellent qualifications and great influence!
But... as the saying goes, "the false and the true, it is impossible to guard against", Fiske, who thought he was careful, made a wrong judgment after all.
After a second or two passed, neither the old priest nor the saint sitting on the high platform suddenly broke out any means to escape like Fisk imagined, especially the old priest with cloudy eyes-this old man who couldn't see clearly. He has been staring straight at this confident general.
"Hahahaha, General Fisk, how tired you are from a long way, why not just rest here for a while."
Without any signs, suddenly, the old priest who had remained silent gave a gloomy laugh.
At the same time, just underground where Feske is now, a small magical scroll without any energy fluctuations silently turned into fly ash and slowly dissipated in the soil.
"It's not good, it's hit"!
Even though there was no fatal sensation, Fisk burst into anger and tried to leave the place in horror, because the general who had suddenly regained his perception had felt a little threatening but rather strange aura spreading around him.
At this time, he realized that it was not the saint on the high platform that really came to lay out the means, but the old priest who seemed to want to die!
And the last resort they arranged didn't seem to be used to escape~EbookFREE.me~ but to...trap yourself!
"Trap me, and then try to escape? The beauty of thinking! Give this general death!"
After the reaction to his own plan, Fiske was utterly distraught, and the general who placed great importance on glory couldn't imagine. If the two evils of the saint and the old priest were both escaped, how faceless he and his family would be.
Therefore, at the moment when he felt the weird breath suddenly spread, Fiske made up his mind to shoot the "saint" no matter what, even for this, he even slowed down his movements by half a beat.
"This is my mistake, but I can't bear such a mistake! Even if I fight a hard attack, I have to take it! This saint with great potential must die!"
Accompanied by Fiske's roar, the violent vindictive blade flew to the center of the altar at high speed following his guidance. In front of this sharp energy blade, even the thick, hard rock was easily cut in half.
At this moment, Fisk, who had never regarded the Red Sand God Cult as an opponent, finally lost the confident posture of having everything under control.