When John Wick rolled his eyes upon hearing the name "Knights of the Holy Light," William gave him a displeased glare, then acted like he hadn't seen anything. Since it was a European force, of course it needed a name that fit European conventions.
As for the five members of the Strauss team, they had no objections to William's words—nor would they dare to. Any concern in their hearts about whether the Knights of the Holy Light might one day become an organization like the Knights Templar was quickly discarded after a few seconds of thought.
Even if they had thoughts about it, they'd have to wait until the Knights of the Holy Light actually developed. Right now, it was just a name with no structure whatsoever—worrying too much about it was a waste of energy.
Better to think about how to stop Mammon, the embodiment of Greed among the Seven Deadly Sins, who was trying to enter Earth using the Spear of Longinus.
"Your Eminence, I will immediately instruct ascetics and believers around the world to begin secretly searching for Mammon's followers and the Spear of Longinus."
"Mm," William nodded, "If you encounter demons you can't handle, go directly to Sunday—I'll go and resolve it myself. If you want to find those rats hiding in the shadows, sometimes you need a lot of manpower. And without bloodshed, how can we show the greatness of the extraordinary?"
After giving his instructions, William nodded to Strauss, John Wick, and the others, then teleported back to New York.
He was going to investigate the skeletal demon that Sunday had heard about from Wong at Kamar-Taj, hoping to find the Spear of Longinus and eliminate Mammon's chance to enter Earth at its root.
But less than half a day after he left Rome, while drinking tea and gathering information with the Ancient One, William heard Sunday report in his ear that the Pope of the Church of Light had passed away at his vacation villa.
Strauss had no choice but to hand over the task of mentoring John Wick and tracking Mammon to his four assistants and rush to the villa to handle secular affairs.
For something like this to happen at this time—it was impossible for William not to be suspicious.
But then Sunday continued reporting that Strauss hadn't found anything unusual, which made William frown. With no evidence or leads, he could only respond as events unfolded.
Finding that skeletal demon, however, was not a problem. After parting ways with the Ancient One, his Sentinel armor instantly encased his body and shot into the sky.
In just a few seconds, he caught up with Wong and his team, who were investigating the skeletal demon.
"Master Devonshire," upon seeing William floating in the air, Wong and the others immediately nodded and said, "We're glad you've come personally to handle this matter."
William returned the greeting politely, then asked, "Any leads?"
"None," Wong shook his head. "Skeletal demons are one of the most unique types of demons. They have no obvious sulfur smell, so unless they make a move, it's very hard for us to detect them. When I saw this skeletal demon earlier, I deliberately pretended not to notice, trying to bait it into attacking. But just like the records say, once it realized we'd spotted it, it fled without hesitation."
"So what's your plan now?" William was momentarily at a loss—tracking people wasn't his specialty.
"Well," Wong was taken aback, "If even you have no ideas, I'll have to go back and consult the Sorcerer Supreme."
Consult the Ancient One? William's face darkened instantly. He was sure Wong had said that on purpose.
But since he couldn't find it himself, why not summon a demon to find it? Might as well scare these chuckling sorcerers a bit—lest they really think they're superior just because the Ancient One has their back.
He closed his eyes, and in a moment, sensed the demon Fisher.
But as soon as he did, his mind was flooded with Fisher's ecstatic cries for help.
To enhance the effect, William opened his eyes to reveal pupils filled with blue spatial energy. As the sorcerers shuddered, a heavy sulfur smell suddenly filled the air.
"A demon's true body?"
"Prepare for battle!"
The four sorcerers immediately began chanting. Four spells instantly formed and shot toward Fisher, who was lying on the ground gasping for breath.
But before the spells got halfway, they were blocked by a spatial barrier.
Since William had pulled Fisher's true form into Earth, he had to account for the Material Plane's rejection of demons, and thus released a spatial barrier over Fisher.
"Lord Devonshire? You…"
Ignoring the now-wary Wong and the others, William frowned at Fisher, who was pretending to be dead, lying in a pool of blood-like magma.
He raised a hand, conjuring a bolt of lightning at his fingertip and striking one of Fisher's wounds.
Fisher screamed in pain, his wound cauterized by the electric surge.
"If you're not dead, then shut up and tell me who's chasing you."
After the bleeding stopped, Fisher weakly said, "M-Master, it's… it's the subordinates of Cyttorak from the Crimson Hell. They've been chasing me for nearly a thousand kilometers."
"Cyttorak? The Crimson Lord?"
Wong gasped as William tossed a soul coin into Fisher's mouth.
Frowning, William asked, "Didn't I send you to inform on Cyttorak? Why is he sending people to kill you?"
"Of course he wants to keep it quiet," now replenished by the soul coin, the battered Fisher quickly recovered.
He flattered in a low voice, "I followed your orders and went to the Crimson Hell. But barely two days after spreading word that Mephisto had stolen Cyttorak's glory, Cyttorak not only issued a challenge to Mephisto but also sent ten thousand demon vanguards toward Mephisto's territory. That berserker demon commander hadn't even fully deployed before ordering his minions to cleanse all non-Crimson Hell demons from the region. I had already left in advance, but wanting firsthand news, I took one look at the army from afar and ended up being chased by over a dozen berserker demons."
"So that means Hell is about to fall into chaos?" William's expression brightened—but then he remembered the bet he had with Mephisto involving ten thousand mid-tier demons.
"Yes, yes, Master. Hell will definitely descend into chaos."
Fisher cackled, "Cyttorak is infamous for his indifference, but if someone provokes him, he absolutely retaliates viciously. And the fact that you helped Mephisto gain fame is very easy to trace. There's no way Cyttorak will let it go without restoring his honor."
Boom.
Just as Fisher was gloating, William suddenly stomped him into the dirt. He hadn't expected the situation to spiral out of control in just two days.
In a few more hours, the three-day period from his bet with Mephisto would be up, and the ten thousand mid-tier demons would be his.
But the problem was that their bet had only been a verbal agreement—there was no contract. William wouldn't dare sign one with a demon anyway, and expecting Mephisto to honor it now was wishful thinking.
Still, if Mephisto wouldn't honor the bet voluntarily, then he'd have to be forced to.
Looks like that antimatter core bomb really should be moved up in the plan.
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