Chapter 652 - 60: I Want You to Die

Chapter 652: Chapter 60: I Want You to Die

But Murphy held his ground.

Deep within his consciousness, the Mind Furnace operated at full power. The Energy carrying Leonardo’s will, which surged into his body, was being dismantled layer by layer under the Mind Furnace’s analysis.

It was just like how he dismantled the chaotic Spiritual Qi in the Nightmare World.

After achieving Breathing and Guiding ’Entering the Hall’, he had long since learned how to deal with such Exotic Energy.

No!

Or more accurately, Law.

The personal Law of those from other planes!

Leonard failed to notice the subtle change on the sword, his face a mask of smugness and ridicule.

"These creatures from the Otherworld just don’t know what’s good for them. Look, Young Master. You give him a chance, and he doesn’t take it. You offer him a way to live, and he won’t even kneel. He insists on acting tough. But who is he putting on a show for?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "He tried acting tough back home, couldn’t pull it off, and ran to the Imperial. Still trying to act tough here? Who’s he trying to impress? Us? We Imperial People have seen it all. We’ve seen plenty of creatures from the Otherworld like you. They all have the same attitude when they first arrive. Every single one thinks they’re hot shit, that they were a big shot back home and can still call the shots here in the Imperial."

He spat. "And what happens in the end? Don’t they all just end up hauling cargo at the docks, waiting tables in restaurants, or becoming servants in noble manors? Tough? Can being tough put food on the table? Can it pay your debts? Can it make you one of the Imperial People?"

His voice grew louder, more brazen. "The Young Master gave him a chance! Told him to kneel and admit he was wrong, and this whole thing would be over. How simple is that? What an easy way out he was offered! But no, he won’t take it. He just has to keep up this tough-guy act. And for what? Who do you think you are? Do you think you’re still some ’genius’ from back home? Here, you’re nothing."

"A creature from the Otherworld, a refugee without even an Imperial identity, thinks he has the right to act tough in front of Young Master Douglas? Thinks he has the right to run wild in the Society of Truth’s headquarters? Thinks he has the right to—"

"Leonard." Leonardo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it cut Leonard’s tirade short.

Leonardo didn’t look at him, his gaze still fixed on the Crimson Longsword.

The light on the sword flickered uncertainly, as if in a final struggle.

He watched the light, the corners of his mouth curling into a gentle, pleasant smile that radiated condescending composure.

"He’s not entirely wrong. Creatures from the Otherworld, once they arrive in the Imperial, ought to have a certain self-awareness. They should know when to bow their heads and bend their backs. It’s not humiliation; it’s pragmatism. Only those who understand the times can survive, live well, and establish a foothold in the Imperial."

He paused, his gaze toward the sword tinged with a hint of pity. "But you are precisely the type who doesn’t understand the times. Cheris took you as her student—that was a chance. I offered you the chance to kneel—that was also a chance. But since you refuse the opportunity I’ve given you, tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

He sighed, his fingers tightening slightly. "Must you push things this far? Must you force my hand—"

He never finished his sentence.

Because the sword—

—moved.

It was like a meteor streaking across the night sky, a bolt of lightning tearing through dark clouds, a ray of light surging upward from the abyss.

In that instant, the Crimson light of the sword erupted, so blindingly bright, so searing to the eyes, that it bathed the entire room in red.

The formless power coiled around the sword, the Pain Domain Leonardo had so meticulously woven, the Dimensional Energy that carried his will—all of it was torn asunder in that instant by the blade’s light.

Leonardo’s pupils constricted violently.

His fingers were still poised to clench, and the look of condescending composure still lingered on his face.

But the sword’s light had already pierced through his meticulously woven domain, through the pain that was his pride, through all his confidence and arrogance.

It pierced through his forehead and out the back of his skull.

Blood sprayed into the air.

The blood looked stark against the Crimson light, spattering across Leonardo’s face, which still held its placid expression. It sprayed onto his deep purple Magic Robe and onto the open window behind him.

Leonard’s mouth hung wide open, his eyes bulging. The smug look on his face had not yet faded before it was utterly replaced by terror.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the threshold. He pointed a trembling finger at the sword light that had pierced Leonardo’s skull, his lips quivering, unable to utter a single word.

Sebastian’s head snapped up.

He watched the blade’s light exit the back of Leonardo’s head, watched the droplets of blood arc through the air, and his pupils contracted violently.

His hand rose, then fell. In the end, he just stood there, motionless.

The Crimson sword light did not linger.

After piercing Leonardo’s skull, it flew out into the morning sunlight of Zlesko City.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Yes, nothing had happened.

Because Leonardo’s wound had closed.

Like a drop of water returning to a lake, like a ripple fading into stillness.

The wound that had pierced his skull healed silently in the sunlight, not even leaving a scar.

"You—deserve—to—die!"

But Leonardo’s voice was hoarse, his face contorted.

The face that always wore a gentle smile was now twisted into a knot, veins bulging from his temples like worms squirming beneath his skin.

Once an Extraordinary Being converts into unobservable matter, their physical body becomes imperceptible to ordinary people in the real world.

They are like ghosts or specters, moving through another dimension, separated from the mortal world by an invisible yet insurmountable veil.

A mortal’s gaze passes through them as if through air; a mortal’s touch passes through them as if through light and shadow.

However, what separates Extraordinary Beings from pure ghosts and specters is their ability to manifest their bodies at will.

They can shift from an unobservable material state to an observable one—a state that can be seen, touched, and can interact with the mortal world.

And due to the existence of cognitive anchors, they choose to live in this observable state most of the time.

Naturally, a body made of observable matter isn’t particularly durable, but at the same time, it contains no vital points.

Of course, "not durable" is a relative term. A typical Second-Level Wizard could not harm Leonardo; only an attack that surpassed the limits of Level 2 power could injure him.

In other words, an attack exceeding 20 degrees.

But reaching a power level beyond 20 degrees is no easy feat.

Forget about creatures from Alternate Planes, with their incomplete systems for their Path.

Even Imperial Second-level Wizards, with their vast knowledge and myriad techniques, could not reach it easily.

Once they reach 20 degrees, they are on the cusp of advancing to become a Third-Level Wizard.

It is nearly impossible for them to enter the domain beyond 20 degrees.

That was why Leonardo had been so careless, and why he was now so furious.

Because this wasn’t just an injury!

It was a humiliation!

The humiliation of being wounded by a creature from the Otherworld—one he viewed as an ant—right in front of his own subordinates!

Leonard stared at Leonardo’s contorted face, at his already-healed forehead.

"Young Master... Young Master, he..."

Sebastian remained at the door, saying nothing, doing nothing.

Leonardo no longer paid them any mind.

His entire focus was now outside the window, fixed on the distant glint of sword light that had shrunk to a tiny red dot.

His fingers trembled spasmodically. The Pain Domain he had woven—that formless Dimensional Energy imbued with his will—was now contracting, condensing, and collapsing with violent intensity.

’You think you can escape?’

His voice was low, as if he were muttering to himself.

But the Energy surging from his body reached its apex.

He raised his hand.

The movement was no longer slow and elegant, but filled with a savage, almost frenzied, brutality.

His fingers spread wide, palm aimed at the distant sword light, and then snapped shut.

Then, a beam of light shot out from his palm.

It was a beam of grayish-white light.

It erupted from Leonardo’s palm, and everything in its path, even the air itself, was stained a sickly, deathly gray.

"I—WANT—YOU—DEAD!"