Chapter 592: Apology Gift

"I finally... caught you."

Fine strands of rain, mixed with runoff, streamed down and soaked his robe.

The tiny little girl lay quietly on the ground, like a discarded rag doll.

Muen looked at that pale little face. The madness at the corner of his mouth faded, returning to calm.

But in this deathlike silence, accompanied by the crushing turn of the majestic sun wheel, pitch-black flames had already risen soundlessly.

From Muen’s eyes.

And also from the pale eyes of the little girl staring back at him.

"Mm..."

Only then did the little girl seem to register her situation. She began struggling violently, the stitched seams on her body tearing open again and again, as if she wanted to break apart and escape like last time.

But this time, Muen naturally wouldn’t let her have her way. The black flames spread around them like a net. For a move this hard to understand, as long as you’re prepared, it isn’t difficult to break.

Of course, the most important thing was that this time, Muen had a death grip on the little girl’s head.

Tss. Tss.

A faint flicker-sound of flames rang out, but it wasn’t in this rainy night. It was... on that fragile, tender soul.

"Mm... ah..."

The crying grew sharper, and more painful. The little girl cried one moment, then bared her teeth at Muen like an abandoned puppy the next, or let out terrified whimpers.

Pathetic enough to make anyone pity her.

But the hand strangling her throat didn’t loosen in the slightest. While letting her endure the pain of her soul being scorched, he also forcibly overdraw her mind, controlling several more strands of black flame as they slipped, bit by bit... into her flesh through the torn seams in her stitched body.

As if he meant to burn her completely, from the inside out.

"Ah... gurgle... gu... ah..."

The little girl struggled even more violently, even convulsing. Her limbs flailed like a marionette with its strings cut, and bloody tears flowed from the corners of her eyes.

"Stop!!!"

At last, lightning wrapped in terrifying killing intent arrived with a boom—swooping over from the other end of the city in the blink of an eye.

The Indra King, rushing over at the sound of crying, saw the little girl being gradually swallowed by the black flames. The corners of his eyes split as he flew into a rage, and he threw a punch from a distance.

A mountain-collapsing force crashed down from the sky. The earth split open toward Muen inch by inch like a magnitude-ten quake. Before it even reached him, several streets’ worth of blocks had already been ground flat.

Luckily, this was the Upper City. The population wasn’t as dense as the Lower City—otherwise that blow would have killed or injured hundreds, if not thousands.

"Hey, hey. In the middle of a fight, suddenly running off—real men don’t do that."

Another Adolf stepped out beside Muen and raised a hand, pinching a strange hand seal.

Countless points of starlight rose up, linking to each other and forming an exquisitely beautiful star chart.

The star chart blazed—endless, ghostly light.

That earth-splitting force plunged into the star chart, and only stirred a few ripples in that brilliant river of stars. Adolf pressed down on the star chart and shot forward, taking the initiative to meet the Indra King.

"Get... out of my way!"

When one punch wasn’t enough, the Indra King raised his hand and threw another.

Nine layers of rings spun around his crown. Countless eerie runes flashed, winding around his fist. The Indra King descended like a demonic god. At this moment, he didn’t care about form or technique at all—he simply drove a fist straight into the star chart.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The sound of countless bubbles bursting echoed. It was as if endless stars were being crushed into dust within the chart. Adolf’s face went nearly paper-white in an instant.

The star chart was on the verge of shattering. Adolf was in agony over it, but he didn’t even have time to curse—because the Indra King closed in and threw yet another punch.

Dark clouds churned. The rain poured.

Lightning that lit up the entire world fell from the heavens, and the Indra King seized it in his fist and smashed it at Adolf.

"God says: the insincere shall not worship."

In the crisis, holy radiance suddenly descended, neutralizing the lightning. An invisible boundary forced the Indra King and Adolf apart. The Archbishop of Canterbury arrived at high speed, chanting a divine decree that made that punch strike empty air.

Even so, one of Adolf’s arms still had its sleeve shredded to pieces, trembling uncontrollably.

"You saved my life..."

Adolf rubbed his arm, baring his teeth. "Damn it—same as Crowned, so why is he this much stronger?"

"Because he’s endured bitter cultivation for a hundred years. The straw sandals he’s worn through could be piled into a mountain. And you’ve spent most of your life’s ‘training time’ grinding your junk on women."

"...That’s exactly why I hate these thick-skulled meatheads!" Adolf’s expression stiffened, and he forced out the words.

"Don’t relax. It’s not over yet."

The Archbishop of Canterbury floated at Adolf’s side. The two stood shoulder to shoulder against the enemy. And in another direction, Professor Plang—no one knew where he’d pulled it from—produced an alchemical doll with colorful strawberries printed on it. With the doll and his own magic, he actually managed to hold the other two back for the time being.

So the situation became one-on-two, and two-on-one.

"You..."

The Indra King paused his assault and stood still.

He looked at the two blocking his path, yet those murky eyes did not reflect their figures at all.

The world was dim. Cold ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) rain drifted.

Only the whimpering, agonized crying circled in his ears, hooking at the soul. Only that tiny figure pinned to the ground and being steadily devoured could enter his vision—enough to shake the heart of this man who had cultivated all his life.

"I told you... you... get... out of my way!!!"

The Indra King’s face twisted. He brought both hands together.

The nine layers of rings abruptly contracted, merging into the brilliant crown. The strange patterns on his steel-cast muscles writhed and flowed like they had come alive, making him truly look like a terrifying demon.

With the Archbishop of Canterbury and Adolf braced and waiting, his momentum climbed again and again—reaching a peak he had never reached before!

"Die!"

The Indra King swung his fist again.

"God says: this place shall be pure land!"

A holy voice boomed, and the phantom of a sacred domain descended once more.

But the goddess’s majesty hadn’t even had time to manifest before that immaculate holy land was ripped apart in an instant by the red gale of fist intent!

"What?"

Canterbury’s expression changed as well. He hadn’t expected the Indra King to be this terrifying. He only had time to detonate radiance from his authority ring, protecting himself.

On the other side, Adolf’s face grew solemn in a way that was rare for him. He took out a card from his chest and slowly presented it toward the Indra King.

That card was... blank.

No number. No suit. The moment that blank face turned toward the Indra King, the world fell silent. Above and below turned white. The Indra King floated blankly, as if trapped inside a mirror.

"Ugh. I actually have to use this. This time I’m really taking a loss that’ll haunt me forever."

Adolf pinched the card between both hands, drawing it into his palm.

And the card was no longer blank. Now it was sketched with the vivid image of an angry old man.

"By the calculations, it should be able to trap him for five minutes. During that time, dealing with those two guys should be enou—"

Crack.

Adolf’s expression froze.

Crack crack.

He stiffly lowered his head, staring at the trembling card face.

As the fractures multiplied, the old man grew angrier and angrier, until that rage almost seemed to turn tangible—like it was about to ignite.

"No way..."

By all logic, a five-minute shackle... couldn’t even hold for five seconds?

As the thought formed, the card face shattered completely. A blazing, annihilating divine might erupted from the void, shredding that bizarre playing card—along with Adolf himself.

Another Adolf appeared in the distance, coughing as he spat blood, a complete mess.

But the Indra King—now drenched in blood himself—didn’t press the advantage. In his eyes, there was only that place...

The rain was still falling.

Muen was still pinning the little girl down, forcing that eerie black fire that devoured everything into her soul and flesh, utterly ignoring what was happening around him.

The little girl’s crying was gradually weakening.

Seeing this, a surging fury instantly swallowed the Indra King’s heart, and at this moment, between heaven and earth, not even a single thread of rain dared to stand in front of this old man.

So the daylight abruptly dimmed.

Only the sound of heaven collapsing roared.

The ground tore open in an instant. Cracks split through the clouds overhead. The Indra King dashed out as an ink-black afterimage, aimed at Muen, swinging that fist no one could stop—

Suddenly.

On the ground.

In a pool of blood.

At this very moment.

That tiny, pale, powerless little hand... twitched softly.

Like a gravely ill person who had been unconscious for a long time finally waking up. Five slender fingers slowly curled and stretched, until they could move fully.

Then, just like that, the hand trembled as it lifted with difficulty through weakness, spread its five fingers, and pointed at the Indra King.

【Do not.】

The Indra King’s motion stopped dead.

The heavy rain fell, soaking the Indra King’s hunched body.

That unstoppable punch—before it could even swing—had already halted.

He stared down blankly, looking at the little girl.

No words sounded out, yet at this moment, the meaning expressed by that raised little hand was unmistakably clear.

The Indra King snapped awake as if jolted. Only then did he realize that what had been flowing from the corners of the little girl’s eyes was no longer bloody tears... but clear, warm tears.

"Heh heh... so what if it’s ** of source blood?"

Muen’s expression was not much better than the Indra King’s just now. Veins pulsed across his forehead. Blood ran from the tip of his nose. His face was paper-white.

He stared into the little girl’s eyes and smiled.

"You think you know who you’re facing?"

Black flames flickered, weaving across the little girl’s soul and flesh.

And within Muen’s mental space, that black sun wheel was slowly turning as well, like a gigantic eye, coldly looking down at the roiling ** inside the little girl.

** came from source blood, carrying a terrifying power that could drive countless people into beastification and madness.

But what turned within the Holy-Crowned Black Sun came from the fusion of several evil gods. Though it had not fully grown yet, it was the real thing... divinity.

Under divinity, so-called ** was nothing more than slightly bitter... food.

...

The Indra King fell silent for a moment, then suddenly turned and shot away.

"Indra King, you came at the perfect time!"

Ghostblood Princess and Herman—still locked in battle with Professor Plang—both lit up when they saw the Indra King charge in, thinking he had fought one-against-two and beaten those two.

"Quick, this old bastard’s almost out of strength too. You—"

And yet...

Pff.

Red light flickered in Ghostblood Princess’s eyes. She lowered her head with difficulty, staring in disbelief at the arm that had pierced through her abdomen.

"Wh... why? This isn’t what we agreed..."

Fetid blood sprayed. Ghostblood Princess didn’t even have time to retaliate before the Indra King tore her apart with one hand.

On the other side, seeing the Indra King suddenly turn on their own side, Herman’s face changed drastically. He no longer dared to tangle with Professor Plang. He turned and fled.

And yet...

Herman, already living on borrowed time, was no match for the Indra King.

So, under the utterly stunned gazes of Adolf, Professor Plang, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Indra King arrived at Muen’s side, carrying the heads of Ghostblood Princess and Herman.

"This is an apology gift."

The Indra King lowered his head, his gaze blazing as he stared at Muen.

"I’m begging you... heal her."