Chapter 1473 - 1035: Matters of Life or Death (Part 2)

At this moment, Yarad discovered there was a piece of paper tucked inside the scroll.

The paper had a line of words written on it.

"Do you dare to use it?"

A simple sentence, without beginning or end.

But just this one sentence caused madness to surge completely in Yarad’s eyes.

"Why wouldn’t I dare to use it?"

"Why couldn’t I use it?"

Forbidden?

Bloodstained?

So what?

"If I cannot become a Saint, one day, the country will be disappointed in me anyway, maybe even think it invested too many resources in me for no return, considering abandoning me, using me, squeezing out my remaining value."

"At that time, either I die from being squeezed dry or fight back desperately."

"Wouldn’t that mean becoming an enemy of this country then?"

Since that’s the case, why shouldn’t I strike first?

Anyway, I’ll oppose them sooner or later; might as well use the country, squeeze it dry instead.

"As long as I can sacrifice the millions of people in Libion and host a Blood Sacrifice Ceremony, using the power of the ceremony, I could definitely break through the bottleneck and ascend to become a Saint!"

"As long as I can become a Saint, even if the world becomes my enemy, so what?"

"As long as I’m careful, even if various races unite to hunt me, it won’t be easy for them to judge a Saint."

"So, I totally have the chance to continue living, even breaking free from the shackles of this weak country, gain true freedom, escape impunity, and no one will order me again!"

The more he thought about this, the stronger Yarad’s desire grew, until his breath became heavier.

Finally, Yarad succumbed to his desires and made a decision.

"Libion, become the nourishment for my ascension to a Saint!"

Yarad, roaring with fury like this, stretched his hand toward the scroll spread out on the desk.

The next second—

"Swoosh!"

Just as Yarad’s hand was about to touch the scroll on the table, a burst of blood light flashed.

A large amount of fresh blood flowed from Yarad’s hand, soaking the desk, as well as the scroll, dyeing it completely red.

"...... Eh?"

Due to the speed and lack of any signs, until his face was sprayed with blood, Yarad had no reaction, not knowing what had happened.

Until he felt an intense pain and saw his entire arm severed at the root, falling onto the table, rolling around like a drum, he finally realized what had happened.

"Ughhhhhh...!"

Yarad clutched his bleeding stump, howling in pain.

"My hand... my hand...!"

The piercing scream activated the four alchemical puppets on standby in the room instantly, the eyes on their helmets lighting up as their bodies started moving with a creaking sound.

But as the alchemical puppets were activated, a cold, breathtaking sword light and a brilliant radiance swept over simultaneously.

In an instant, the two alchemical puppets on the left were cut apart, while the two on the right were blasted to pieces, the four alchemical puppets with combat power equivalent to gold grade were destroyed instantly, shattered irreparably.

"What?"

Yarad, clutching his severed arm while howling in pain, finally saw it.

Saw two people appearing silently in the room.

To the left, holding a luxurious sword, with dazzling blonde hair, was Her Highness the Princess.

To the right, holding a precious scepter, with soft silver hair, was His Eminence the Pope.

"Is it you...!?"

Yarad was shocked.

"How are you here...!?"

No one answered this question.

Melo and Naisa just stood there from left to right, coldly watching him like looking at a dying criminal.

And just as Yarad was about to roar in anger, the third person who suddenly appeared here spoke up.

"Stop shouting, simply chopping your hand is already merciful, if His Highness or His Eminence had done it personally, it might not have been your hand being chopped, but your head."

When this voice appeared behind Yarad and entered his ears, his pupils shrank sharply, and his whole body trembled.

Only then did Melo and Naisa move, slowly approaching Yarad, but ignoring him, walking past him from left to right and standing behind the speaker.

Yarad’s expression changed dramatically, with fear growing in his heart.

At this moment, his most wanted action was no longer questioning Melo and Naisa, but to dash for the door and escape from here at all costs.

No choice.

If the opponents were Melo and Naisa, Yarad wouldn’t be very scared.

Although their status is extremely noble, in terms of strength, Yarad, who is only a step away from being a Saint, is confident that neither of these two would be his match, even if they join hands, he has enough capacity to protect himself.

But, this speaker was different.

Although his status is also very noble, even more so than Melo and Naisa, and equally young, if what the people in the Dark Relief Center say is true, then this person has stepped into the level that he longed for incessantly, a level he can’t contend against no matter what.

So... run!

Run as far as possible!

But when such thoughts occurred and he prepared to take action, the sense of crisis cultivated over the years saved Yarad’s life, making him forcefully pull back his body that was about to dash out.

"Boom!"

Exactly at the same moment, as if an invisible slash swept across, a storm brewed in front of Yarad, shattering the air, space, and the floor there.

Beholding the shattered floor before him, a bead of sweat dripped down Yarad’s pale face.

Just now, if he hadn’t managed to pull his body back in time and had taken a step forward, what would be his fate now...?

A scene of his body being severed in half suddenly appeared in Yarad’s mind.

"Oh?"

That voice chimed in again, with a mocking smile.

"Not bad, you made the wisest choice at the critical moment, worthy of being this country’s strongest person, the rumor of being just a step away from Saint seems to be true."

"What a pity, with clearly bright prospects, why make such a choice?"

"Such a... self-destructive choice."

Upon hearing this, a tinge of blood tinted Yarad’s otherwise pale face.

He slowly turned around, clutching his severed arm, half of his body bloodstained, his eyes bloodshot, looking forward.

There, behind the exquisite armored chair of the luxurious office desk, sat a boy unknown when he had settled.

The boy wore a pure white court dress, a pure gold holy sword at his waist, legs crossed, one hand on the armrest, supporting one cheek, watching Yarad with a faint smile.

Behind him, Melo and Naisa stood respectfully, not at all like an Empire Princess and Papal Pope, more like two loyal Attendants serving the boy.

"What do you understand?"

Bloodshot eyes stared directly at the boy, Yarad spoke in a low growl.

"Promising future?"

"Which eye of yours saw any promising future for me?"

"Ahead of me lies only darkness, where is there any glimmer of light?"

Yarad fully exposed his dark side, no longer making any disguise or quibble.

Because he knows very well, none of these are useful now.

So, on his face, there was only resentment, only madness.

"You understand nothing, stop speaking nonsense there!"

Upon hearing this, before Reiger could respond, Melo and Naisa were simultaneously enraged.

Reiger raised his hand, stopping the two girls from bursting.

"Indeed, I don’t know you very well, saying that lightly was somewhat presumptuous."

Reiger nodded, while speaking lightly.

"But it doesn’t matter now either."

"Now, let’s talk about your situation."

"Whether you live, or die."