A deathly silence hung over the courtyard.
"Target neutralized. Farewell."
A-Ling adjusted her slightly ruffled collar, her tone as indifferent as if she had just stepped on an ant.
Without waiting for the Second Young Master to reply, she flicked her wrist, and her figure blurred, intending to vanish into the night.
"Stop... Stop right there!!"
Ovind finally snapped out of his shock. Looking at the head at his feet, its eyes still wide with lingering disbelief, he let out a hysterical roar.
"Who told you to kill him?! This isn't what we agreed on!!"
He rushed down the steps in a rage, pointing at A-Ling's retreating back. "I said to subdue him! To cripple him! Not to kill him!!"
Though the two brothers had fought tooth and nail for the inheritance, it was ultimately their subordinates who were putting their lives on the line. In Ovind’s plan, this was merely a personal show to demonstrate his "finesse" and "capability" to his father.
In their childhood, their relationship had actually been quite good.
Moreover, he knew his father's bottom line all too well—internal strife was permitted, but fratricide was absolutely forbidden!
Killing the First Young Master would do nothing but utterly enrage that terrifying father of theirs!
"You're trying to ruin me! You damned Imperial!"
Ovind realized he had been played. The Empire never intended to help him stabilize his position; they only wanted to push the Hawthorne family into the abyss!
However, A-Ling’s figure had already long disappeared. She couldn't be bothered with this ignorant fool, nor did she care for wasted words. After all, Section 9 of the Fel Special Service—under the Imperial Military Intelligence Section 7—never needed to explain their actions!
Though she was a contractor, she still wore the Empire's skin!
At this moment, she represented the face of the Empire!
"Cough... cough..."
Just then, the old mage Ethan, who had been lying in the corner playing dead, "opportunely" returned to life. He clutched his chest, standing up shakily. Looking at the corpse on the ground, a complex light flashed in his eyes before he let out a sigh.
"Sigh... Master Ovind, things have come to this; talk is useless now."
"Hurry and clean this up. Since the First Young Master is already... we can only grit our teeth and see this through. As for the rest... wait for the Master to return before handling it."
Ovind’s face was pale, his gaze hollow as he stared at his elder brother's corpse. He looked as if his soul had been sucked out of him.
It was over.
Everything was over.
...
However.
What no one noticed was that the fingers of the headless corpse suddenly twitched imperceptibly.
If time could rewind ten seconds...
Deep within Leon Hawthorne's seemingly "unbelievable" gaze, what lay hidden was not fear of death, but... a hysterical madness.
'Damn it... this woman is too strong...'
'Even after drawing upon that power... I was still suppressed completely.'
'This level of pressure... she's at least a 【Crowned】 rank powerhouse!'
'I didn't expect my dear brother to have such a hidden trump card! To think he dared to collude with the Empire!'
Leon's gaze moved past the blade's flash to the sky.
At some point, tonight's moon had been stained with an eerie crimson.
The blood moon was about to align...
The perfect time to communicate with that Great One was almost here...
While Ovind was still breaking down, Ethan was still offering platitudes, and the Lord's Manor was in utter chaos...
'Heh heh heh heh...'
'This was originally a surprise saved for that old dog, to catch him off guard...'
'But now, since you insist on seeking death, I have no choice!'
'Regardless, this town... the "hope" of that piece of trash who killed my mother, this cage that has tormented me for twenty years!'
'Now, let it all be destroyed!'
'This place is destined to burn in my fury!'
'Great Deceiver! Commander of the Burning Legion! Lord Kil'jaeden! Your servant offers this sacrifice!'
Leon's mind roared as a dark green energy, thick with the scent of destruction, gathered frantically at his severed neck.
Boom—!!!!
The headless corpse that was supposed to be dead suddenly sprang up from the ground!
A pillar of dark green Fel energy, reeking of sulfur, erupted from the severed neck like a volcanic explosion!
In an instant, it illuminated the night sky of Kent Town!
Roar—!!!!
That was no human scream; it was a roar from the Abyss.
In a single second, the headless corpse was seemingly taken over by some unspeakable, horrific power.
Squelch... squelch...
Amidst the tooth-gritting sound of squirming flesh, the dark green Fel flames forcibly "sucked" the rolled-away head back into place.
Immediately after, Leon's body began to swell and tear frantically.
His expensive noble attire instantly shredded. His pale skin turned into a deep green carapace flowing with magma-like patterns, and bone spikes pierced through his flesh, erupting from his spine and elbows.
The once greedy but somewhat handsome First Young Master had vanished completely. In his place stood an abyssal demon over three meters tall, radiating sulfur and destruction!
Roar—!!!!
With a roar, the soundwaves physically overturned the surrounding floor tiles.
"M-monster!!"
"Protect the Master! Protect him quickly!"
Second Young Master Ovind and the surrounding soldiers had never seen such a sight. Their legs gave out on the spot, and they soiled themselves in terror.
"For the glory of the Hawthorne family!"
At the critical moment, it was the old mage Ethan, who had been playing dead, who proved reliable. Seeing the situation spiral out of control, the old man stopped holding back.
He leapt up from the ground, his staff erupting with a dazzling blue light. The expensive mana shard at the tip of the staff began to crackle and fracture.
"【Ice Storm】!"
This was his ultimate trump card—a 【Crowned】 rank spell!
In an instant, a terrifying current of absolute zero swept through the courtyard. Countless razor-sharp ice shards, carried by a gale, formed a white meat grinder capable of freezing the soul, howling toward the demon!
However.
"Child's play."
The demonized Leon merely waved his massive, Fel-burning hand with contempt.
Crack—
He simply raised a massive claw wreathed in dark green Fel fire and swiped at the howling ice storm as casually as if shooing an annoying fly.
Crack—shatter!
Fel clashed with ice.
The seemingly indestructible polar storm, cold enough to freeze steel, shattered like fragile glass the moment it touched the abyssal Fel energy, instantly vaporizing!
Immediately after, the massive claw continued its momentum, carrying peerless kinetic energy as it slammed hard into Ethan's fragile magical shield.
"Pfft—!"
The old mage flew backward like a broken kite, slamming hard into the wall. He spat out a spray of blood three meters high before his head lolled to the side.
This time, he was truly unconscious from a heavy injury; there wasn't a hint of acting involved.
"Run! Run quickly!"
Seeing his strongest support swatted aside like a fly, Second Young Master Ovind was scared out of his wits. He scrambled on all fours toward the back gate.
"Ovind... my dear brother... where are you going?"
Leon took heavy strides, covering several meters in a single step. His green-flamed claws reached out with a cruel, mocking grin, thrusting straight for Ovind's back!
"Die!"
Just as the claws were about to touch Ovind's trembling back, at the absolute last second—
Clang—!!!!
A deafening sound of metal clashing erupted!
A greatsword as wide as a door panel descended from the sky, standing like a heavenly barrier between the two brothers, forcibly blocking the demonic claw!
The resulting shockwave overturned the surrounding sod.
As the dust settled, a tall figure held the sword with one hand, standing as unshakable as a god of war.
It was Gareth, Baron Hawthorne, who had supposedly just "warmed some milk and was preparing to head home."
Rate on N.U.
