Chapter 509: The One Who Strikes First, Survives

Because her best friend had been missing for many days, she randomly asked a stranger on the street for money to look for him?

That line of thinking was certainly unconventional.

Still, considering that refusing might upset the little girl, Saul reached into his pocket.

Just as Saul was about to use the motion of reaching into his pocket as cover to retrieve a silver coin from his storage device, he suddenly noticed a woman storming over angrily from not far away.

Saul raised an eyebrow and promptly pulled out his completely empty pocket, then said to the little girl, “I’m really sorry. I’d love to help, but I don’t have a single silver coin.”

Seeing that Saul took nothing out, the furious expression on the woman’s face eased.

The little girl, her hope rising and then dashed, puffed up her cheeks. “You’re already so big, how can you still not have money? Useless adult!”

The woman behind her reached out and knocked the girl on the head.

“Thud!”

The sound was extremely loud.

“Why are you asking strangers for money? What if you run off after borrowing money and go missing like Little Claude did?”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” The little girl clutched her head, not daring to argue, but she shot Saul a venomous glare.

Saul immediately bent down and gently patted her head. “How about this—you’re still young, and it’s not safe to go Out alone. I’ll help you find little Claude.”

The girl lit up instantly. “Little Claude is my best friend! You have to find him!”

Saul nodded earnestly. “But before that, I need to know more about him—what kind of person he is, and where he might be.”

The girl jumped up and said, “Little Claude is super mischievous! He loves playing hide-and-seek with me. He’ll hide anywhere just to make me look for him!”

Her mother clearly had a different opinion about Little Claude.

“He’s nothing but a liar. He said he could make the big trees obey his commands and even transform into the village chief. I bet he was just pretending to be the chief and got thrown in jail by the real one.”

As the woman spoke, her expression darkened. “Maybe he was locked up and killed.”

Saul smoothly changed the subject. “Where’s the village chief’s house?”

The woman pointed to the most beautiful white house at the end of the main road. “Right there.”

Saul immediately excused himself and walked toward the chief’s house.

“Knock knock knock!” He rapped on the door of the white house.

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling…” A series of crisp, pleasant chimes rang out.

Soon, the door opened.

But when Saul saw the person who answered, he froze.

[Herman: This guy?]

The man had messy red hair and a huge nose, which made his eyes and mouth look tiny in contrast.

But unlike Little Claude, this man looked to be in his thirties.

He was clearly not a child.

“Hello, I’d like to speak to the village chief.”

The man gave a gentle smile. “That would be me. I’m Big Claude.”

Saul knew some places used prefixes like “Big” and “Little” to distinguish between people with the same name, but these two looked a little too similar.

Saul tested the waters. “I heard Little Claude went missing, so I came to look for him. May I ask, what’s your relationship with him?”

Big Claude sighed. “I’m his older brother.”

Quite an age gap for siblings.

“Do you know how Little Claude went missing?” Saul continued.

“Come inside.” Big Claude invited Saul in. “I’m not really sure why he disappeared, but I was probably the last person to see him.”

The village chief was cleanly dressed and carried himself with a refinement uncharacteristic of someone from a small village.

“A wizard passed through today. He noticed Little Claude’s talent and wanted to take him on as an apprentice. But Little Claude refused. I was afraid the wizard would get angry, so I scolded him. Then he suddenly ran off. He hasn’t come back. I’ve searched everywhere, but found nothing.”

Just as he finished speaking, Big Claude noticed Saul staring straight at him. “What is it?”

“When exactly did Little Claude go missing?”

“This morning. If you want an exact time, it was around 10 a.m.” The man clearly didn’t catch Saul’s implication and even paused to think carefully.

[Agu: This village chief is suspicious. Everyone else says Little Claude has been missing for days, but he claims it happened today.]

[Ann: What if Big Claude is Little Claude? Maybe that’s why he doesn’t know he’s gone missing?]

[Agu: But he’s the village chief. Others still recognize the chief hasn’t disappeared.]

“It might not be that complicated,” Saul murmured.

“What was that?” Big Claude didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, a black blade appeared behind the village chief—and in a flash, sliced through his neck!

Herman and the other three: [?!]

Saul stood up, dragged the chief’s corpse to a corner out of view from the window, and then calmly walked out the door.

“The village chief’s memory of Claude’s disappearance contradicts everyone else’s. Maybe that’s because the chief died before the others did.”

Back on the street, Saul hadn’t gone far before he spotted the peasant woman who once killed him walking out cheerfully.

At the same time, a young man climbed out of a window and slipped between two houses.

Saul recognized him at once—it was the same man who had been skewered by a farmer’s pitchfork and fallen from the second floor.

Saul followed the man into the gap between the buildings. The man seemed to sense someone behind him, but before he could turn around, a black blade sliced off his head.

Moments later, Saul emerged and knocked on the neighboring door.

“You’re back?” The farmer man looked pleased to see Saul. “My wife just went out to buy soup stock. Once she returns, you’ll get to taste a delicious stew.”

Saul smiled and thanked him, entering the house.

A few minutes later, the farmer’s wife returned, only to find Saul sitting alone in the living room. She looked at the unfamiliar face with suspicion, but quickly recalled something.

“Hello there, young man. You must be the guest my husband invited? Where is he?”

Saul stood. “Yes, ma’am. Hello. Mr. John went upstairs.”

“Oh dear,” the farmer’s wife covered her face with a laugh, clearly not flustered at all. “Don’t call me ma’am. You look barely out of your teens—just call me auntie.”

She laughed and turned toward the kitchen to start preparing soup.

Saul followed. “What kind of soup are you making, Auntie?”

The farmer’s wife reached the stove and lifted the lid. “We country folk don’t have fancy ingredients. Just some discarded bones others didn’t want…”

“Thunk!”

“Splash!”

Before she could finish her sentence, her head dropped into the soup pot.

Saul stepped out of the kitchen and gently closed the door behind him.

He glanced at the stairway closet now leaking red fluid and quietly exited the farmer’s house.

When Saul first suddenly killed the village chief Big Claude, the four consciousnesses had only been shocked—now, they were utterly silent.

From then on, Saul’s black blade transformed into the scythe of death. Whenever he saw someone alone, he didn’t bother speaking—he simply killed them.

When facing two or three people together, he split his black blade into multiple parts, striking all at once. He never gave anyone the chance to raise killing intent.

And on this bloody road, Saul’s mastery of the Dark Spirit Blade became more fluid and natural. He could now split the blade into dozens of separate parts.

Harvesting lives felt completely different from simply practicing magic. He could feel the feedback as soul bodies were ripped apart.

This allowed the Dark Spirit Blade, already a dark-element spell, to progress rapidly.

By the time Saul reached the outskirts of the village, he saw two guards chatting idly under a small hut.

Two shadows silently appeared behind their necks.

The shadows flashed—and both headless bodies crumpled to the ground.

Saul slowly walked out of the village. “If I kill everyone here, no one will have the chance to form a killing intent toward me again.”

He left the final house and stood at the end of the village’s only street, looking back at the now-silent place.

“So, the rule here is—whoever strikes first, survives.”

(End of Chapter)

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