Chapter 250: Hansel and Gretel

In the town of Witherwood, chaos reigned. Cries of panic echoed through the streets as vicious enforcers wielding torches set fire to the homes of those who couldn't pay their protection fees.

"Take a good look! This is what happens when you can't cough up the cash! Hahaha!" one thug cackled.

Suddenly, the flames atop the roofs halted. As if swept away by a powerful wind, the fire detached and floated skyward.

All the flames throughout the town were pulled together, converging in a single location before descending gently into the palm of a single figure.

A lone rider clad in black armor sat atop a powerful white steed, chains wrapped around his body.

"It's the Ghost Knight!" a townsperson gasped. Though many feared him more than they admired him, at least they knew he wasn't here to loot or kill indiscriminately.

The gang of thugs glared at the man.

"Take a good look, freak! There's a dozen of us, and only one of you!" one of them sneered.

Clearly, this man didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Did he truly believe that someone who single-handedly toppled a kingdom would be intimidated by mere neighborhood scum?

Jon said nothing. A clatter rang out as he uncoiled the chain from his body, now engulfed in Hellfire. The burning chain grew massive, launching toward one of the men like a serpent. It slammed into the ground, carving a deep crater.

When Jon retrieved the chain, the target lay charred and unconscious at the bottom of the pit.

Jon's control over Hellfire had become precise. In the past, his attacks would've reduced the man to ash. But now, he left him barely clinging to life, his body intact.

The remaining thugs fled in a frenzy, stumbling over one another to escape.

Jon didn't pursue. He already knew who was pulling the strings behind these thugs.

Hansel and Gretel.

Yes, the very pair the old witch had told him about. The infamous siblings from the Candy House tale. They had grown up and turned into the ruling bullies of the town.

Twenty years ago, they'd acquired a fortune from the old witch, money they hadn't earned. Their fame had grown after scarring her with fire. Getting something for nothing had given them a taste for it. Once the money ran out, they turned to thuggery and extortion to maintain their lavish lifestyle.

They hired goons to oppress the townsfolk, grew stronger, and amassed more wealth. Now, they were the most feared pair of criminals in the region.

Jon muttered to himself, "The old witch told me not to harm them. But now? There's no way I could show mercy. The corruption in their souls is beyond redemption. If I don't judge them, I'm not worthy of the title Spirit of Vengeance."

That night, under a torrential downpour, Jon rode his white horse to a tavern.

In fantasy stories, taverns were where adventurers gathered, seeking companions or quests. But this one operated only at night, catering to a different clientele, mercenaries, thugs, and criminals.

This was where Hansel and Gretel recruited their muscle.

Jon dismounted, walked to the door, and kicked it open.

A chill swept through the room, followed by a thunderclap. Every head turned toward the door.

These were hardened criminals, men who'd killed without remorse. No one ever dared make a scene in this place.

But when they saw Jon's figure framed in the doorway, armored and draped in chains, even the boldest of them looked away in dread.

The Ghost Knight.

Jon stepped inside, his gaze cutting across the room. Everyone looked down into their drinks, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm looking for Hansel and Gretel," Jon announced.

No one responded.

"Tell me where they are," he said, "and you live."

Fear swept through the tavern. But betrayal meant death from the siblings. A dilemma.

Jon shrugged. "Fine. I'll just start killing until someone talks. I could use the exercise."

A massive battle axe suddenly flew toward him. Jon leaned back, dodging it with ease.

The axe returned to its owner's hand, a hulking brute with two massive axes.

"That's Flying Axe Leck! He's the top brawler in the tavern! He once killed a wild bull with a single punch!" someone exclaimed.

In the blink of an eye, Jon raised a hand and released a pulse of gravitational force. The wave slammed into Leck's body, detonating internally. Blood and muscle burst apart like a bomb had gone off inside him.

Everyone froze in horror. Leck had been killed instantly.

Jon turned to the room, his voice cold. "Now, who's ready to talk?"

The tavern exploded into chaos. Everyone scrambled to provide intel.

"They're in a manor to the northeast!" someone shouted.

Jon nodded. "Good. Then I'll spare you all. Consider this your second chance."

He turned to leave, and a wave of relief washed over the room.

Then he paused.

Turning back, a smirk formed on his face. "On second thought… maybe it's best to kill you all now. Cleanse the rot before it spreads."

"Wait—what?!" the crowd stammered in panic.