The battle immediately became fierce, with the defenders using crossbows and small burning bottles to stave off the opponent's offensive. However, having lost the advantage of the first move, this hastily thrown-together defense couldn't effectively impede them. Watching the intense clash below, Lynch took the opportunity to find the leader.

In an overly ornate room, Lynch found the guy. At least judging from the way he kept ordering his subordinates to advance to their deaths, he seemed to be the leader here. This middle-aged man was somewhat too thin, and even the regular-sized leather armor he wore looked like it was designed for a giant, hanging awkwardly on his shoulders. His pale complexion and unkempt stubble indicated he rarely left the place, seriously lacking sunlight. It might have been this lack of sunlight that led to his chaotic aesthetic taste.

The room was filled with exquisite silk cloths, and the already dazzling array of colors made the place resemble a dye spill. Any decoration that could reflect beautiful light was placed in this room. One ruby is beautiful, so naturally, a pile of rubies would be even more so.

Lynch didn't want to comment on this guy's taste. After all, mages had seen scenes far stranger than this. The issue now was, after shoving his last subordinate into the corridor to help with the defense, the thin man immediately locked the front door, jumped over the chaotic decorations on the floor, and leaped towards the other side of the wall.

He confidently rotated a picture frame on the wall, expecting to hear the awaited creaking of a stone door opening. However, the escape passage did not appear, and a man dressed like a coachman was standing by the oil lamp in the corner. Lynch's shadow perfectly enveloped the thief, casting a large dark silhouette in the direction he intended to flee.

"If you want to escape from here, you need to make a deal with me first." Lynch stepped forward to draw the other's attention. However, the oil lamp behind him provided no real illumination, so his face remained hidden in shadow.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The man, clearly startled, immediately watched the sudden shadow warily. "If you want money, just take it, there's no need to take my life!"

"I am not…" Lynch hadn't finished his sentence when two throwing knives flew out of the opponent's sleeves, one aiming for his throat, the other targeting his heart. The man's words were merely a delay tactic to make Lynch lower his guard and start an attack. The refined gold left hand automatically sprang into defense, instantly shifting Lynch's body out of the weapons' trajectory.

The throwing knives embedded themselves in the wall with a hiss, and the oil lamp's light directly illuminated the middle-aged man's face. Even a well-trained thief would blink at this instant. The mage stepped forward nimbly, clamping his left hand firmly around the man's throat.

Finally, the thief leader saw his opponent's face clearly. If there was anything noteworthy about it, it was its sheer normalcy and plainness, like the face of a simple, honest farmer, with every shadow and contour exuding an air of rustic innocence. If calm, the face might even carry a faint sadness.

But when the thief leader looked closer, he felt fear welling from the depths of his heart. Behind that harmless expression lay thoughts filled with ferocity and cruelty, like a brood of venomous water snakes lurking beneath a scenic lake, ready to devour at any moment.

It was then that Lynch became terrifying, horrifying images filled the leader's mind: "He" ruthlessly kicked him, crushed every bone in his body, then smashed his children's skulls, grinding their eyes into dust with his heel…

As "He" walked down the street, only ruins remained, a scorched earth left in his wake.

"He" stepped on the faces of the dead, leaving his mark with hard shoes. Not a single survivor was left.

When the thief leader snapped back to reality, he saw Lynch's calm and serene face, with a childlike curiosity staring at him. This made him even more terrified. 'Is this a magical effect?' the leader wondered. 'No, I didn't see him uttering any spell or making any gestures.' No matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, the previous vision lingered hauntingly in his mind.

Lynch didn't want to waste too much time here, so he couldn't use memory-reading spells that required long preparation. A bribe wouldn't work in this situation, and fear was the fastest way to make the opponent speak.

He smiled at the thief, and once again became frightening. Though his expression didn't change, his smile radiated a murderous aura, like a butcher who could slaughter everyone around him without mercy, whether friend or lover. A face of friendliness filled with the world's cruelty.

The thief leader fainted immediately.

Lynch felt he might have overdone it, realizing that what he'd shown was something quite intolerable for an ordinary human. He shook the man forcefully, bringing him back to consciousness quickly.

The thief leader now lacked even the courage to struggle, his lips pale, sweat dripping from his hair. If it weren't for the continuous icy feeling from his neck keeping him alert, he would have rolled his eyes and fainted again.

"Answer my question without leaving out any details!" Lynch's loud demand gave the man a bit of spirit. "Tell me everything you know about the inside of the Pate Temple!"

"Yes…" The thief leader barely squeezed out the first syllable from his throat. Being forced to summon up concentration at this moment was indeed overwhelming—after all, his pants were completely soaked, and a foul-smelling liquid dripped onto the luxurious silk.

The sound of a door opening and a dull thud came from outside. It seemed the battle was over, and now the invaders' only target left was the guy in Lynch's grasp.

Instead of intimidating the thief leader, the noise gave him the courage he needed, making him think dying at the hands of his peers would be better than falling into this butcher's hands. He immediately shouted with all his might, "Come in quickly! I'm here!"

Lynch was caught between laughter and tears, not expecting to meet such a coward. He squeezed the man's throat tighter, pushing his cries back into his lungs. A wisp of burning smoke rose from the contact between Lynch's fingers and the man's skin, sizzling.

The door burst open, and two crossbow arrows shot towards Lynch and the thief respectively. It seemed the attackers didn't want to leave any witnesses, as the arrowheads had grooves with reflective liquid, likely poison.

With just a wave of his hand, Lynch deflected the arrows to the floor with a gust of wind. Releasing his refined gold left hand, the thief leader slumped to the ground like a sack of flour, exhausted and unable to resist. Lynch hadn't killed him; instead, he left a spell on the thief's neck, preventing him from uttering a single word temporarily.

Turning to the newly arrived "invaders," Lynch slowly said, "Actually, I am on your side."

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