Chapter 56 : Chapter 56

Chapter 056: Blood Devil, Blood Mage (3)

A torrent of blood sprayed from Bihen’s body in an instant.

Splat—!

Drip, drip, drip.

Bihen’s limp form collapsed powerlessly beneath the Blood Devil’s grasp.

Thud.

The sound echoed loudly in the ears of all who witnessed the fight.

Few could bear the weight of the silence it birthed.

Most were on the verge of losing their minds, their eyes and legs giving way, or trembling uncontrollably as their minds screamed to flee while their bodies refused to move.

Some had already fainted.

“Bihen—!”

The cry shattered the seemingly eternal silence.

Adeline and Jayden shouted in unison, rushing toward Bihen.

“A rare display of valor.”

The Blood Devil’s words were directed at the two, though he paid them little heed.

With his back to them, he gazed down at Eugene with an air of aloofness.

Eugene leaned on the Blood Lion as a crutch, barely able to stand upright.

“Old man, didn’t I warn you? You should’ve tempered your recklessness.”

The Blood Devil drew his face close to Eugene, who was coughing up blood, his tone mocking.

But the mockery quickly faded, as if he grew bored.

He approached the headless corpse of a Gunbel Trading Company member.

Extending his palm toward the sprawled body, the remaining blood seemed to evaporate, rising as thick crimson vapor.

The vapor was entirely absorbed into the Blood Devil’s hand.

After finishing, he sniffed once and turned back toward the group.

“Struck down by a stray blade, was it? Absurd. But no matter. I’ll take the spirit of your descendant as recompense.”

Muttering cryptic words, he surveyed the area, his gaze instilling terror in all who met it.

The Blood Devil grinned.

“Shall we indulge in some amusement?”

As he mused, a scene reflected in his red pupils irritated him faintly.

It was Joel and Roland, each supporting Eugene from one side.

“Hey, snap out of it. If you die here, I’ll kill you myself, got it? You hear me, friend?”

Eugene, eyes closed and breathing raggedly, struggled to speak.

“Bihen… what happened to Bihen?”

Roland and Joel glanced toward Bihen.

Adeline, half-embracing the fallen Bihen, nodded at them.

He was still alive.

Roland let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“He’s alive. Stop worrying about him and focus on yourself. Let’s get out of here. This was my mistake. To make up for it, I’ll treat you to a grand feast when we’re back…”

Eugene’s blood-choked chuckle cut Roland off, leaving his words to trail away.

Eugene cracked open his bleary eyes.

The Blood Devil was staring directly at them.

Tilting his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curled upward.

Eugene closed his eyes again.

Death was approaching.

Death brought with it the traces of the life I had lived, trailing behind in neat rows.

Born the son of a noble family, I spent a privileged childhood.

I grew up constantly hearing that I was born with an upright and just nature.

While my peers went through their stormy adolescents, I alone pondered the purpose bestowed upon me.

Even when my spouse couldn’t bear an heir for our esteemed house, I harbored no resentment.

There was only one time I felt a piercing hatred: the day she broke our vow to grow old together and left this world alone.

After that, I lived a life of loyalty to those above and care for those below.

One day, overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness, I stood before her portrait, mulling over the words she left behind.

“Will you think of yourself, who loved me, before you think of me?”

That’s when I realized.

It was the final gift she had given me.

My purpose, the meaning of my life.

“Friend, I lived earnestly. Please tell me I did well.”

I have no regrets.

It was an honorable life.

Eugene shook off Roland and Joel’s support and approached Adeline.

His steps were unsteady, yet he did not fall.

It felt as though someone was warmly guiding him.

“Your Grace.”

Eugene knelt on one knee before Adeline.

The Blood Lion, plunged into the ground, stood in place of his rigid posture.

“It was an honor to serve you.”

“E-Eugene…!”

“Please forgive my disloyalty… for failing to serve you to the end.”

The glint in the old knight’s eyes shone as the only light in his lord’s tear-soaked vision.

Eugene staggered to his feet.

“Shameless as it is, I entrust the rest to you, Roland.”

I’m sorry. That’s all I can say to my friend, who’s too stunned to respond.

Next, the boy caught my eye.

I told him not to, yet he’s already swallowing his tears messily, his shoulders shaking.

Come to think of it…

Sixteen years have passed already.

It was an unprecedented incident during a long reign.

There was a bureaucrat who dared to plot and execute an unspeakable conspiracy.

Claiming it was a task someone had to undertake, he even extended a hand to me, his friend, to join him.

The enraged Duke of Conwell entrusted me with the sword of judgment.

It was I who pleaded for the family to be spared from total annihilation, out of respect for their past loyalty.

Thus, only one survivor remained from the traitor’s household.

A mere infant, not yet weaned.

That child, who lost all blood ties and even their family name overnight, weighed heavily on my heart.

“You’ve grown well.”

I gently placed my hand on Joel’s head.

The only trait he inherited from my friend was that golden hair, shimmering like sunlight on water.

Believing my departed spouse might feel slighted by a single gift, I named him myself, thinking she’d sent another.

When I learned that brash boy had a talent for swordsmanship, I was delighted to find another joy in my later years.

Though my lord forbade bringing a traitor’s blood into our noble house—despite overlooking the crime of treason—I never imagined that failing to formally take him in would leave such a lingering regret.

I wanted to see him grown.

As his teacher.

…And as his father.

“Serve Her Grace well.”

“Please, please don’t do this. I beg you.”

“Meeting you was a blessing.”

“Teacher…!”

“This is your final lesson, Joel.”

At last, I fully turned away.

If there’s one regret, it’s that the time granted to me is so short.

If there’s one wish, it’s for just a little more mercy.

“Until the very end.”

To fulfill my purpose.

“I want you to engrave it in your eyes.”

As if resonating with its master’s will, the Blood Lion erupted in fierce white light.

“Hahahahaha! Truly admirable! Come! I’ll gladly claim your life!”

I drew my left foot back.

Standing diagonally, I raised the blazing Blood Lion before my face, then extended it forward.

My other hand rested on my back.

The ultimate Destreza.

A radiant, colorless wave of energy swept through the area, as if bidding farewell to the great knight’s final stand.

My form vanished, blending into the wind.

“Haha, you’re like a lost beast. Even after all that, you tread the same path, suffer the same wounds, and meet an obvious end…”

Then it happened.

The Blood Devil’s pupils widened rapidly, as if a pool of blood were spreading.

Combat in the transcendent realm isn’t about crude movements.

Every step, every breath, every glance is meticulously calculated, layered into intricate techniques that define the transcendent domain.

In a single exchange, two refined techniques intertwine.

When does a clash break?

There’s only one moment when a perfectly woven flow cracks.

When someone casts aside their life and defies that order.

An uncalculated strike.

A primal resolve stripped of finesse or formality.

A blade honed by instinct.

In that moment, refined techniques twist, and intricately woven clashes shatter with a burst.

“You’d perish together…!”

The Blood Lion plunged repeatedly into the Blood Devil’s body.

Amid a storm of thorns, the afterimage of Aura flashed like lightning.

“Stop—! No…! Aaaargh!”

The piercing sword strikes relentlessly skewered the Blood Devil.

An unstoppable force.

With death assumed, there was no retreat.

The intervals were far shorter than before, with no regard for conserving strength.

Each strike burned with my entire being.

Every thrust was a demon-slaying blow.

To the Blood Devil, it was a calamity.

“The Blood Wheel…!”

The Blood Wheel.

The pinnacle of Blood Arts transcends immortality, dominating even the cycle of life and death. It defies the laws of heaven.

Thus, the Blood Devil named it the Heaven-Breaking Cycle.

The Blood Wheel is the core of that cycle, the source of the Heaven-Breaking Cycle.

Eight hearts, forged from countless blood and endless karma.

“I’m… done for!”

The Blood Devil, who had reached the state of rapidly rotating and repositioning the Blood

Wheel within his body, now saw his eons-old system crumbling under my Destreza.

“I can’t keep up with the speed…”

Finally, only one Blood Wheel remained.

Instinctively, the Blood Devil placed the final Blood Wheel at the crown of his head, the Baihui acupoint.

Then it happened.

The onslaught ceased, as if by a lie.

His pupils, trembling violently with extreme fear, moved stiffly.

“…!”

The Blood Lion’s tip was poised toward the sky.

It was frozen there, as if immortalized as the final stand of a mythical hero.

Just before delivering the final blow.

In the end, the old knight burned out.

“Ha, haha, ha…”

“….”

“Hahahahahahahahaha!”

As the Blood Devil’s maniacal laughter rang out, the fading light in my eyes scattered like futile smoke.

“So this… was the will of heaven! Truly, I’ve attained great enlightenment!”

In truth, it wasn’t the time to be swept up in emotion.

The final Blood Wheel was damaged and precarious.

Fortunately, enough strength remained to wring out one last Heaven-Breaking Cycle.

The Blood Devil reached toward the fallen Bihen.

“Descendant, come to me…”

Crunch—!

“Arghhhh—!”

My arm, which had been raised toward the sky, swung down, and the Blood Lion fell like the blade of a guillotine.

The Blood Devil, trembling at the eyes, looked at his severed arm and laughed in disbelief.

“Even in death, you won’t let me open the path of life, you monstrous old man!”

With this, the Heaven-Breaking Cycle was unusable for now.

Still, there was a chance to survive.

“I must return to the main base.”

Perhaps because of the rare struggle, his excitement had plummeted.

He lacked the energy to crush insignificant beings for sport.

“Since I can’t absorb them anyway.”

As he listlessly raised his head, it happened.

“I’ll kill you—!”

Joel charged forward.

His desperate cry sounded like a cute tantrum to the Blood Devil.

“Joel! Calm down!”

Janson lunged, wrapping his arms around Joel’s waist.

Even Ramba joined in to restrain him.

“You Blood Mage…! Come here! Get over here now!”

“Khuh, fine. I’ll come.”

The Blood Devil looked down at Joel, sobbing on the ground.

As killing intent flickered, it happened.

“Please…!”

It was Ramba.

Kneeling before the Blood Devil, shielding Joel and Janson, his hands clasped in plea, his eyes bloodshot.

“P-Please show mercy. If you wish, take my body instead…”

His lips trembled so much he could barely speak.

Facing the Blood Devil up close, it wasn’t mere fear. It was closer to vague awe before a natural disaster.

Tap.

The Blood Devil caressed Ramba’s head and face with a blood-soaked hand.

A languid smile played on his lips.

“Fear not. Your sincerity has quelled my killing intent.”

“T-Thank you…!”

“Indeed. You’ve saved them all. But I, too, must claim my due. Healing such wounds requires considerable effort. The offering must be of suitable quality.”

He scanned the area.

His indifferent gaze suddenly sharpened with vivid red.

Tossing aside Ramba’s head, he walked toward it.

Step, step.

As the Blood Devil approached, the huddled Gunbel Trading Company members knelt one by one, like Ramba.

Most trembled in fear, many wetting themselves.

Only two remained standing: Jewelina, and Maserin, who stood protectively before her.

“At least you possess a decent spiritual core among this lot. Not bad at all.”

The Blood Devil licked his lips.

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