Chapter One

Church-Direct Demon Hunter—Charles Carter (Part 1)

Rumble...

The clouds in the sky hung oppressively low, streaks of violet-blue lightning flickering within them, bringing even deeper, suffocating thunder. Yet this stifling atmosphere did nothing to disturb the air of revelry emanating from the church below.

Atop the towering church roof, a young man in a black trench coat crouched on the curved glass, peering through the Gothic stained glass, watching—together with the painted Heavenly Father—the mass of bodies tangled together below, writhing like maggots.

At his waist, a one-handed knight’s sword emitted a faint silver glow.

“Mission target—the fallen priest has appeared.”

A mechanical whisper sounded in his ear. Charles Carter’s gaze remained utterly steady; he had already spent ten years in this world of legends.

A paladin of the Church? An engineering student?

His hands were already stained with blood.

Scanning the scene below through the glass, Charles Carter’s right hand slowly rested on the hilt of his sword.

Inside the church.

Lust, intense malice, and a filthy aura rose ceaselessly in this place that should have been sacred—enough to make an ordinary person dizzy. Yet within, an elderly man in priestly robes spread his arms in utter ecstasy, as if embracing the Lord’s radiance, his withered, orange-peel-like face full of intoxication.

“Ah... yes, just like that, just like that...”

“Filth, evil, ah, I praise you! I praise you, more, give me more...”

His tone was chaotic and illogical.

Standing atop the pulpit, watching the magic circle on the wooden platform ahead gradually fill with darkness, the priest’s face flushed with a sickly red.

“Yes, just like that...”

Crack...

At that moment, a crisp sound came from the dome above. The old priest paused, but instinctively looked up. Above him, the stained glass of the church had already shattered, shards of all sizes fluttering like butterflies. The Heavenly Father’s benevolent smile, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning outside the window, now seemed obscure and sinister.

Boom!

Before the priest could truly react, a black shadow plummeted from the sky at even greater speed—head down, feet up, wielding a longsword glowing faintly, the blade spinning, carrying a sharp gust and shards of glass, stabbing toward the priest with a chilling momentum.

Bang!

The sword struck directly against a layer of black-red light that flared from the priest’s body. In the next instant, the filthy black-red shield shattered under the blade. The broken black-red magical elements flickered before Charles Carter’s eyes. Landing smoothly atop the pulpit, he flicked his wrist, and the knight’s sword, like a viper, struck precisely into the priest’s throat, a thick silver glow radiating from the blade.

The runes on the sword slowly lit up.

‘Remove Evil’

A shrill scream burst from the priest’s mouth. Charles Carter’s left foot suddenly kicked off with force, the wooden pulpit collapsing backward, pinning the priest beneath it. The man’s body also fell toward the “maggots” below, his right hand releasing the sword, while his left hand gently tossed a grenade.

Bang!

A crisp gunshot—a bullet struck the grenade with precision. The dangerous “toy” spun twice in the air before exploding with a roar. In the sweeping shockwave, silvery liquid scattered like raindrops, triggering a chorus of endless screams and wails.

A specialty of the Church: Silver No. 17 Holy Water Bomb.

Amid the wailing, riding the rolling shockwave, Charles Carter easily adjusted his posture in midair. His fingers curled, and a chilling blade snapped out from his left wrist guard, wisps of battle aura rising from the blade.

His body paused, then dove straight down like a hawk.

Squelch~

The battle-aura-ignited blade, aided by gravity and momentum, easily pierced the forehead of a woman who had just looked up, then erupted in an even brighter light, turning her dim crimson eyes a shade of bright silver. In the dazzling radiance, the young demon hunter’s left hand spread wide, suddenly seizing the beautiful head in his palm.

His legs sank into a horse stance, muscles bulging, waist twisting with force. Like wielding a mace, he swept fiercely to the side. The burst of battle aura cleared a large space on the ground, while farther away, more than twenty “maggots” were already struggling to rise. Each had a handsome face, but their pupils glowed with a strange, bloody light.

“High-ranking blood slaves?”