Chapter 82: The Two-Legged Bald Rattlesnake

Entering through Shampoo City’s main gate, visitors were greeted by a main road wide enough for six horse-drawn carriages to travel side by side. The citizens affectionately called it the [Golden Path].

The road was entirely paved with yellow stone. Over the years, fine cracks between the stones had sprouted patches of green moss. From afar, it looked as if pure gold had been inlaid with beautiful veins of jade.

The street stretched across the entire city, extending all the way to the plaza before the Royal Palace.

From the sky, the [Golden Path] resembled a golden sword wrapped in waves of green magic, placed steadily within Shampoo City by an unknown deity.

At dusk, golden sunset spilled across the wide street.

This was the most beautiful time of day on the [Golden Path]. The people of Shampoo City loved to stroll leisurely, chatting with neighbors, laughing about the day’s news and amusing events.

Sunset usually meant calm and warmth.

Even King Sun Fei had slipped on a cloak multiple times to blend into the crowds, soaking in the atmosphere of kinship. Amid this warmth, his restless heart settled into tranquility, letting him forget his heavy burdens. For a fleeting moment, he felt like a untamed wanderer roaming the jianghu of ancient China.

But today, the peace of the [Golden Path] was shattered by intruders.

Just as the citizens leisurely strolled, smiling and greeting friends, rapid hoofbeats shook the earth from afar. Six knights in bright armor and crimson cloaks appeared on the horizon. Like a whirlwind, they stormed through the city gate and raced down the street, whipping their horses mercilessly.

The knights charged fearlessly into the busy crowd.

Their leather whips cracked and snapped as they smashed people aside, deliberately targeting children, the elderly, and women who couldn’t dodge in time. An old man with white hair was knocked down, his head bleeding. A mother shielding her child was lashed across the back, her clothes torn open, leaving a bloody gash…

In an instant, the tranquility of the [Golden Path] vanished. It was like tossing a rock into a sunlit, mirror-like pond—ripples shattered, water sprayed, and chaos erupted. The knights’ mocking laughter mixed with children’s wails, parents’ cries, the groans of the injured… The street filled with ugly, grinding noise.

The picturesque peace exploded into bedlam.

“Lowly peasants! Move aside!” roared the leader of the knights, barking out a chain of pretentious titles. “His Holiness Pope Platini, Supreme Pontiff of the Holy Church, has sent the envoy of the thirty-fourth pontiff of the Zenit Empire—Divine Master Mazzola! Shampoo City soldiers—order your King Alexander to present himself! All other civilians must leave this street! Anyone who dares disturb the Divine Master’s procession will be executed!”

The knight was over two meters tall, clad in gleaming silver armor engraved with the sun crest of the Holy Church on its chest plate. His red cape whipped behind him like flame. Scarlet cloth peeked beneath his armor, giving him the appearance of living fire. A thick beard covered his face, overlaid by an expression of arrogant contempt. His whip hung near his iron boots, dripping blood onto the stones—the blood of a woman he’d struck for shielding her child.

“Seal the street! Secure the vantage points! Protect Divine Master Mazzola!”

“Speed up! Inspect any suspects!”

“Grab anyone suspicious! Kill resisters!”

The knights galloped about, shouting orders. Over a hundred intimidating attendants soon flooded in from Shampoo City’s main gate. They wore chainmail and rounded steel helmets. Some brandished spears or swords; others bore shields for knights or carried baggage. Like wolves savaging sheep, they shoved bystanders away, swiftly forming a harsh guard line along the street.

Then, in Shampoo City’s colossal city gate archway, a long procession slowly ambled in.

At its head, a carriage covered entirely in glimmering gold etchings of divine suns easily drew all eyes. Its stunning luxury aside, the most shocking thing was its lack of wheels. Instead of axles, two roaring whirlwinds held the heavy body aloft with feather-like lightness. It floated smoothly without jostling as the horses moved.

This was a unique Holy Church Magic Carriage. Master magicians had carved wind magic symbols into its base, powered by Magic Stones. Such a carriage symbolized status; only honored Divine Masters could ride one.

Flanking the lavish Magic Carriage marched over forty robed apprentices. Their black prayer gowns shimmered with red collars, sleeves, and hoods. They followed with bowed heads—humble servants.

Divine Master’s apprentices were called ‘the devout.’ Each wore a thick chain around their neck: shackles of the gods’ humblest servants. As they walked, chains clinked softly, creating an oppressive rhythm that made people shiver and shrink back.

Divine Masters and Knights were the twin pillars of the Holy Church on the Azeroth Continent.

Their teamwork mirrored warriors and Mages—Knights excelled in raw Might and melee, while Divine Masters wielded strange Magic and spellcraft. Each compensated for the other’s weaknesses. So whenever the Holy Church opened a new branch, they appointed both a Knight and a Divine Master.

The street emptied rapidly. Shampoo City’s citizens were forced to stand stiffly beside the road. Any movement might provoke the attendants into seeing ‘disrespect’ towards Divine Master Mazzola—punishable by death without mercy.

The gilded Magic Carriage drifted slowly down the [Golden Path], seeming to inspect the people.

Along the street, eyes watching the procession held solemn awe.

Some held traces of smoldering hate and disgust.

When the Black Armored Army laid seige to Shampoo City—days when lives hung by a thread—these pampered Holy Church Knights and Divine Masters put up no resistance. Like whipped dogs they’d fled. Then, the very moment the crisis passed, these greedy locusts, these vicious jackals had rushed back to show off their importance… Did the Holy Church feel any shame?

Perhaps sensing the hostility, the Magic Carriage halted. Its door swung open; black curtains drew back. A slightly bald man stepped out, pausing on the carriage platform.

This was Divine Master Mazzola.

A greedy, shrewd, malicious man—venom incarnate. Around 165 centimeters tall, thin and wiry. Sharp, unnerving glints flashed in his eyes. “That little man concocts a thousand venomous schemes in the time it takes to twitch an eyebrow.” The people of Shampoo City called him the Two-Legged Bald Rattlesnake.

Mazzola and the bearded Knight leader Luciano—who’d earlier used his whip till that woman fainted—were the Holy Church’s ‘governors’ in Shampoo City. Together, they controlled all the region’s matters of the faith. The Holy Church held supreme prestige across the Azeroth Continent. Its Judgement Knight Order had crushed countless rebellious kingdoms under steel boots. Though minor figures inside the Church itself, Mazzola and Luciano became lofty Nobles here—men who saw Kings as equals.

Mazzola softly stroked the divine staff he cherished, coldness radiating from his eyes.

His icy stare swept over the crowd. People broke into unstoppable murmurs. No one dared look back at this poisonous rattlesnake.

Suddenly, Mazzola casually pointed into the crowd.

The chosen victims seemed to feel Death’s touch. Their faces drained white. They broke into sobs or thrashed wildly… It did no good. The devout beside the carriage watched Mazzola’s finger intently, then lunged like hyena packs. With pitiless force, they looped chains around the targets’ necks and dragged those unfortunates out like plucked hens.

Amid the weeping, any struggler was instantly kicked and beaten by the furious attendant Knights. Many were snatched: a mother holding an infant; young girls primarily; sturdy young men wearing clean outfits as well…

The street plunged back into wails and shrieks. Hell had come to earth.