The grey-robed man’s words were only half-spoken when one of the leaders, a burly man in yellow, cut him off sharply. “Eber, are you trying to die? Have you forgotten the instructions from above? You know the consequences if any secrets leak out.”

Hearing the yellow-clad man, Eber’s face paled slightly, though he still protested stubbornly, “Boss, why are you so jumpy? Anyway, this fellow is dead for sure today. Even if he learns anything, it won't get out.”

Although Eber spoke that way, he dared not reveal any more secrets, clearly showing deference to the power backing them.

Seeing this, Mo Han knew the force behind these men must be the mastermind behind the recent attack on the Church of Light. Clearly, the adversary’s strength was now comparable to the Church’s own; otherwise, how would these shrewd mercenary groups dare antagonize the Church? That would be like an egg striking a rock. However, these men were evidently just outer elements, possessing little real knowledge. Moreover, they seemed extremely cautious, meaning that pressing them further would likely yield no more secrets.

With that realization, Mo Han stopped concealing his power. Changing his tone entirely, he spoke coldly, “While I’m in a relatively good mood, if you tell me everything you know, I might consider letting you go. Otherwise, when we start fighting, don’t blame me for being discourteous.”

Startled by Mo Han’s abrupt shift in tone, the men were momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend how the Mo Han who had seemed so terrified moments before could suddenly speak to them with such authority. Then, they burst into booming laughter, as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

The grey-robed man pointed at Mo Han and jeered, “Kid, have you gone mad from fear? With your current state, do you think you stand any chance of defeating us? Has your brain overheated?” But just as the grey-robed warrior finished speaking, a flash of white light streaked past his eyes.

The grey-robed warrior found himself inexplicably floating, watching his own body still standing where it was, only now the head was missing. This was the final sensation registered by the grey-robed warrior before death.

At that very moment, the grey-robed warrior’s blood erupted in a violent spray from his neck, and his body began to slowly topple over.

Witnessing this scene, every single mercenary’s expression transformed, their faces turning utterly ashen.

As seasoned mercenaries, they instantly recognized the technique Mo Han had just displayed: it was a feat only achievable by warriors who had attained the rank of Sword Saint.

The rank of Sword Saint was an unattainable dream for these mercenaries, yet the young man before them had already reached this coveted pinnacle that countless warriors envied. On the continent, the only known Sword Saint was the Sky-Feather Sword Saint, ‘Modri.’ How could such a young Sword Saint have suddenly appeared? Were it not for the corpse of their comrade lying right there, they would never have believed Mo Han had reached the mastery level of a Sword Saint.

This realization hammered home that if Mo Han chose to kill them, they would have absolutely no chance of escape.

The thought caused a pale dread to wash over every mercenary present.

At this juncture, the leading yellow-clad warrior finally broke the silence, trembling with fear. “Who are you, really? You are not from the Church of Light. Why are you impersonating them to attack us?” Indeed, in the eyes of these mercenaries, the Sword Saint was synonymous with death. Typically, due to their status, Sword Saints never involved themselves in the mundane affairs of the continent, let alone deigning to fight common mercenaries. This is why the yellow-clad warrior couldn't help but question him.

Mo Han heard him, a faint smile still gracing his lips, and replied, “What? When did I ever tell you I wasn't with the Church of Light?” Strictly speaking, Mo Han was still technically associated with the Church, as the envoy token given to him by Shui Ling’er had never been revoked.

“I repeat: if you willingly tell me everything you know, I will consider letting you leave. Otherwise…”

Mo Han left the threat unspoken, but these mercenaries understood the implication perfectly.

As Mo Han’s words trailed off, a powerful aura erupted from him. The mercenaries suddenly felt an invisible pressure bearing down on them, making it difficult to breathe, robbing them of even the courage to resist. What Mo Han unleashed was the innate Battle Qi Domain unique to a Sword Saint. After his battle with the Underworld General, Mo Han’s martial skill had become substantially more refined and potent, lending far greater majesty to its current display. Within the Battle Qi Domain Mo Han had conjured, the mercenaries were pale-faced, drenched in cold sweat.

Hearing Mo Han’s response, the yellow-clad warrior hurriedly spoke up, “Is what you say true? If we tell you everything we know, you will truly let us go?” The yellow-clad man clearly feared Mo Han might execute them to silence witnesses.

Indeed, if Mo Han wished them dead, they had no means of escape.

Mo Han let out a cold sneer, replying dismissively, “Hmph, you must be quite accustomed to silencing people yourself, aren’t you? Do not mistake me for someone like you. However, let me be clear: this is your final opportunity. If I discover any of you have lied, I believe you know the consequences.”

After speaking, Mo Han pointed coldly at a small, thin warrior standing beside the yellow-clad man. “You, come with me. Tell me what you know. I will compare your accounts one by one. If I find anyone has been dishonest, none of you will see tomorrow’s sun.”

The warrior, upon hearing Mo Han’s command, nodded his head frantically like a rattle drum, repeatedly assuring him, “Please do not worry, hero. I will tell you absolutely everything I know, without daring to hide even a fraction.”

With that, he walked toward Mo Han.

Mo Han swept his cold gaze over the remaining mercenaries, making them inwardly shudder. His stare felt like knives, causing cold sweat to stream down their faces. At that moment, Mo Han spoke chillingly, “Don’t think I won't warn you: do not try to flee when I leave. You know that would be a futile effort that would only cost you your lives.”

After delivering this warning, Mo Han led the slender warrior aside to begin his interrogation. Remarkably, the remaining mercenaries stood obediently in place, not daring a single rebellious action.

Evidently, they understood that any attempt to flee would be useless against Mo Han. Furthermore, Mo Han’s raw, naked threats had deterred even those few who might have considered escape; they stayed put, awaiting Mo Han’s cross-examination.

Moreover, since Mo Han had promised to let them go, someone of his stature was unlikely to go back on his word. Since they were no longer facing death, there was no need to risk their lives by running.

Once Mo Han had finished interrogating all of them and confirmed they held no further intelligence of value, he coldly told them to scram. Upon hearing this, the mercenaries, who had been waiting solely for this command, reacted as if they had heard the most beautiful words imaginable. They hurriedly thanked Mo Han, then quickly turned and fled.

Mo Han was left alone, standing there to sort through the meager intelligence he had gathered, hoping to find a valuable thread. But he was disappointed. Just as he had suspected, these mercenaries were only the outermost layer of that mysterious force; they knew very little. They only knew that after several individuals demonstrated superhuman power to them—power that convinced them their strength was in no way inferior to the Church of Light—they were given a large sum of money and ordered to strike the Church. Otherwise, these mercenaries would have faced certain death.

Furthermore, those mysterious figures had put a high bounty on the lives of the Church of Light’s high-ranking clergy. A mere ordinary priest of the Church was valued at five thousand gold coins per head. One could imagine the worth of the senior priests and bishops. A bishop’s head alone was valued at one hundred thousand gold coins, indicating that those behind this operation must possess incredibly deep financial reserves—sums ordinary people could never muster. This only solidified Mo Han’s suspicion that these mysterious individuals were connected to the Proud Moon Empire and the Water Blue Empire.

The frustrating part was that whenever these mysterious figures contacted the mercenaries, they never revealed their true faces, always wearing black kerchiefs over their faces, making identification impossible. The only detail gleaned from the mercenaries was that these masked figures all possessed skill levels of at least High Sword Master, with many even being Grand Sword Master experts.

Leaping to...

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