Immediately, one dirty slave after another was brought out by the executors.
“Radiant Church, radiant? As radiant as dogshit!” A slave roared furiously from amidst the others in the ground, but immediately following his shout was a crack of a whip.
“If you have the ability to do so, then kill me. I was blind for having believed that this was a pilgrimage.” The slave roared loudly in a hoarse voice. “My wife, my daughter? Did you bring them all here as well? And you claim this is a pilgrimage? I really am blind…uh…uh…uh…”
A blade had flashed, and a large hole had appeared in the slave’s mouth as a piece of his tongue came falling off.
“What’s this all about?” The Special Executor barked to the whip-wielding low-level Executor.
“Milord, I don’t know either.” The low-level Executor was terrified. “While shipping them over, this stubborn ones were disciplined long ago. I didn’t expect that this fellow had been biding his time.”
The slave whose tongue had been cut off stared hatefully at these Executors.
Most of the other slaves had felt resigned to their fate long ago. They walked forward numbly.
Within a wide tunnel.
Heidens, dressed in a white robe, was standing in front of a beautiful female priestess, dressed in white. At this time, a large number of washed slaves, now dressed in clean clothes, were being escorted through this dark tunnel to the other end.
“Uh….” That slave whose tongue had been chopped off had also been washed and given a fresh change of clothes.
He stared at Heidens, and instantly, his terrified eyes turned round.
In the Holy Union, Heidens had presided over large-scale masses before, and in the past, this slave had personally seen Heidens and knew that Heidens was the Holy Emperor of the Radiant Church.
Instantly, he began to make furious ‘uh’ sounds towards Heidens.
“Hurry up.” Instantly, one of the escorts behind him gave him a vicious lash of the whip, causing the slave’s body to spasm from the blow.
“Such utter fools. They should feel proud to be able to offer their lives to the mighty Lord Chiquita [Qi’ji’ta].” The female priestess behind Heidens said with a cold snort.
Heidens laughed calmly.
“How many souls does Lord Chiquita still need before he will have completely recovered?” Heidens asked the white-robed priestess.
The priestess said respectfully, “Your Holiness, in the past year, we have already delivered several tens of thousands of people. Lord Chiquita has already recovered most of his strength, but according to what Lord Chiquita says, to completely recover, he will most likely need ten thousand more common souls.”
“Ten thousand more common souls? That will still take a long time.” Heidens frowned.
“But of course, ten Saint-level souls would be sufficient.” The white-robed priestess said.
Heidens frowned, casting a glance at the white-robed priestess. “Saint-level souls? Hmph. Remember, all you need to do is take good care of Lord Chiquita. Don’t get involved in anything else.”
“Yes.” The white-robed priestess said respectfully.
Heidens glanced towards the other end of the tunnel, then at the freshly washed slaves who were still being escorted in an unbroken stream through it. He sighed secretly, “Before draining their souls, he wants the slaves to be washed and changed into clean clothes? This Chiquita…ugh…”
Heidens actually felt some aversion towards this Chiquita.
But Heidens knew exactly how terrifyingly powerful Chiquita was.
Ever since the event which happened in the Anarchic Lands, where he had torn up the agreement with Linley and had their final falling out, Heidens had begun to carefully plan for what he would have to do in the event that Linley led a group of Saints to slaughter a path to the Sacred Isle.
“Fortunately, the Radiant Sovereign is munificent. At this moment of crisis, he permitted Lord Chiquita to descend.” Heidens murmured to himself.
But what Heidens didn’t know was that right now, Linley was currently leading a group of twenty five experts who were traversing through the ocean, flying at high speed to the Sacred Isle.