At this hour, the two guards stationed at the basement stairwell finally sensed something was wrong. A faint metallic scent of blood hung in the air.

The drunken pair sobered slightly. They exchanged a glance and stepped inside.

As they neared the secret chamber, the stench grew stronger. The lanky guard swallowed hard and shoved his short, stout partner.

"You go check what happened. Why’s it so quiet? Those bastards never shut up when torturing slaves."

"Why me? Damn it, I always get the dirty jobs. If I see something I shouldn’t, I’m dead. Let’s go together."

He grabbed the lanky one’s wrist, tense as they peered into the open chamber door. Below, the sight made them shudder instantly.

"Dead… all dead??"

The stout guard stared in disbelief at the scattered corpses below. Even dismembered, he could barely recognize them by their features.

"The head overseer’s dead too. We’re finished. That tyrant from Southern Sect City will sell us all into slavery. We gotta run!"

The lanky one yanked his arm to flee, but the stout guard held firm. His eyes gleamed as he pointed at the bodies.

"We’ll run, sure. But these guys carry good loot. Grab it, change our names, become adventurers—doesn’t that sound better? Follow me down!"

While the two descended, Zhang Luan had already reached a watchtower. The bandit sentry at his feet lay easily defeated. The entire bandit stronghold was plunged into darkness after Wind Flower Snow Moon drained the mana device’s energy. Only a few psychics and mages lit their own paths.

Some spots, like this watchtower’s mana lamps, still glowed—they used pre-charged energy, not direct links to the device. Now, they were the only light.

Zhang Luan seized the tower. From the sentry’s gear, he found a map of the stronghold. His target: the slave pens in the west wing.

There, bandits kept slaves captured from the wild. The ugly ones were sold off; the pretty women were sent as tribute to Yin Ke Duo in Southern Sect City.

Yin Ke Duo was the region’s biggest slaver. Most trades ran through him, making up three-quarters of his profits.

Wiping out this stronghold would be like slicing a few cuts into Yin Ke Duo’s face.

Locating the slave pens, Zhang Luan leaped onto his shattered Azure Righteous Sword. He landed on the watchtower above the pens. Before the sentry reacted, Zhang Luan shoved a pulse of Force of Creation into him. The man collapsed after a brief convulsion.

Zhang Luan aimed the lamp at the slave pens. Through narrow iron bars, he saw hollow-eyed people trapped inside.

Other bandits noticed the light. Watchtower beams swiveled toward him, but Zhang Luan didn’t flinch. He pulled out Akamana’s Doctrine, striking a holy pose with a gentle smile.

"Don’t fear. I’ve come to save you."

[B-Rank Quest Triggered: [Liberator] Objective: Free the slaves before you. Reward scales with freed count and survivors. Accept?]

Hearing the system prompt, his smile turned even kinder. To the prisoners, Zhang Luan bathed in light seemed like a god descended. Their dull eyes sparked with hope. Who’d choose slavery? Who wouldn’t dream of a hero lifting them from darkness?

Accepting the quest, Zhang Luan entered the pens. No wasted words—he unleashed Stellar Flame to burn all guards, then melted the chains binding the slaves.

They poured out, showering him with tearful thanks. Some devout believers even called him a divine messenger.

Zhang Luan scoffed inwardly. Gods wouldn’t waste time on worthless people like them. Faith was nonsense—only a rare few got divine help. The rest?

Hah.

Outside, bandits swarmed the building. They charged in, weapons raised. These slaves were Yin Ke Duo’s property; failing to guard them meant death.

But when the first bandit ran out screaming, engulfed in flames, they realized the threat inside wasn’t ordinary.

"Damn it! Could be a mage or psychic. Where are our mages? Attack already—what are you waiting for?"

A few mages waved crude wands, summoning mud golems armed with clubs. Before they charged, Zhang Luan emerged with over thirty freed slaves. He clapped his hands. A massive ball of Stellar Flame, fueled by Force of Creation, teleported above the mages. Fire rained down, engulfing the weaklings instantly.

"Follow me. Don’t stop!"

He wasn’t worried about his safety—even all the bandits combined couldn’t trap him. But the quest reward depended on how many survived. He wouldn’t risk freeing them only to gain nothing.

He ringed the group with Stellar Flame, then carved through the bandits like a demon. Most were low-level; they gave pitiful XP and dropped worthless junk.

Though he had a bandit-culling quest, wiping them all out was messy. Humans could flee. Zhang Luan only killed those who crossed his path. Runners? He let them go.

As Zhang Luan led the group to the main gate, a small boy tugged his sleeve. His voice was sweet and pleading.

"Pretty big brother… there’s still a sister in that room over there. Can you save her?"