Chapter 49
The Second Lord stared at me mockingly, his lips twisted into a sneer.
Even with one arm severed, his demeanor remained unshaken.
His eyes gleamed with a deep euphoria, as if he had meticulously prepared for this very situation.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
The Second Lord let out a hollow laugh, as if in disbelief.
He picked up his severed right arm and aligned it with the stump.
In an instant, a jet-black energy enveloped the wound, and the flesh intertwined like sewn threads, seamlessly reconnecting.
As if nothing had happened, he lightly moved his regenerated right hand.
Siron, who had been attempting to mediate, gulped and looked back and forth between the two of us.
The Second Lord, his eyes flickering with uncontainable excitement, stared at me and opened his mouth.
“Are you challenging me, Sixth Lord?”
“You’re just realizing that now?”
Crackle—!
The moment he finished speaking, an immense pressure crushed the atmosphere.
The sheer force of the mana wave caused cracks to appear on the ground beneath our feet, but naturally, the energy couldn’t penetrate my body, blocked by the shield and dissipating.
Honestly, considering the gains and losses, confronting a fellow Lord like this was a disadvantage.
A half-hearted skirmish would leave a bitter aftertaste for both sides, and a full-blown battle would not only be a mess to clean up but, given the nature of a Lord’s combat, neither of us would emerge unscathed.
…That is, if this were a typical confrontation.
‘It’s too late to turn back now.’
I had made my decision, and I didn’t regret it.
Technically, he had the justification, but I decided not to care.
After all, wasn’t this a world where might made right, where everything followed the logic of power?
The fact that a necrophiliac villain like him became a Lord, the fact that he massacred villagers without any real justification—all of it was possible because he had power.
Then wouldn’t the fact that he was weaker than me and about to die be justification enough?
The Second Lord narrowed his eyes and glared at me.
A chilling silence enveloped the space.
He stared at my face for a moment, then slowly tilted his head.
“I could have overlooked the first time as ignorance, since it was amusing, however pathetic. I was going to consider it the arrogance of a fledgling who just ascended to Lordship and let you off with a light beating. But now you’ve crossed the line of my patience.”
Every word dripped with mockery.
I watched him quietly for a moment, then smirked.
“Did you already forget what I just said?”
“What?”
“I said you talk too much. For someone about to die.”
“…”
The moment a crack appeared in his consistently playful expression.
Groooooowl!
Dozens of black mana strands, like threads, erupted from the Second Lord’s pale fingertips, undulating like waves.
At that moment, massive bone spears shot up from behind me.
With a sharp roar that threatened to tear flesh, they spread out like an umbrella and surged forward.
There was no time to react. Each spearhead buzzed with dark mana.
Crash!
A deafening explosion erupted with a sound that threatened to tear my eardrums.
“Ugh!”
Of course, the attack itself wouldn’t affect me, but the resulting shockwave was so intense that Siron’s body, unable to withstand the immense wave, was pushed back a considerable distance.
If I hadn’t set up a defense system in advance, it would have been no surprise if his frail human body had been torn to shreds.
“Tsk.”
The Second Lord clicked his tongue and raised his hand.
The air rippled, and hundreds of red eyes appeared in the darkened sky, as if piercing through the void.
Reality itself seemed to tear.
An overwhelming torrent of mana, surging from the fissures of the eyes, compressed as if about to explode.
At the same time, a dark haze rose behind the Second Lord.
It intertwined as if with a will of its own, sketching something, then gradually taking shape.
I stood my ground, staring at the grotesque being emerging behind him.
Screech!
Exuding compressed Death Energy, it had massive armor and glowing crimson eyes, its form so grotesque that it was difficult to look directly at.
The heavy armor emanated a pulsating violet darkness, as if it had swallowed souls, and the black haze seeping from its crevices created the illusion of decaying flesh.
The surface of the armor was covered with faces, as if thousands of souls were engraved upon it, and they writhed in agony, endlessly screaming.
The thorny bones protruding through the armor squirmed as if they were living beings, and drops of dark red energy dripped from their tips. T
he flames blazing from its eye sockets were like hellfire, the ground beneath its feet was scorched black, and even the air itself distorted and tore.
The Summoning of Calamir, the Slaughter.
It was the familiar that could be considered the symbol of the Second Lord.
“…”
Since I had been killing my enemies without giving them a chance to counterattack, I hadn't fully grasped it, but now that I was facing a Lord, their power was beyond imagination.
There was a reason he had reigned as the Second Lord for hundreds of years.
Although, due to his twisted nature, he was destined to be a detrimental influence on the world and eventually be defeated by the protagonist’s group, his power was undeniable.
“I’ll give you one last chance. Formally apologize to me and bring that sword you’re holding, Sixth Lord. Then I’ll let you off with just tearing out your damned tongue and limbs.”
Before he could even finish speaking, a sword appeared in Calamir’s grasp.
Appearing as if slicing through the air, it resembled a massive black spear dredged up from the underworld rather than a sword.
Dark energy swirled and flowed down the blade, and ancient inscriptions carved along the length of the sword flickered in violet light.
With an earsplitting screech, the blade began to ripple.
It wriggled as if alive, changing shape, and the surface of the blade became covered with thousands of tiny teeth.
They snapped at the air like starving beasts, and the sharpened edges of the blade flickered and seethed.
Crack— Clank—
A chilling scraping sound pierced my ears as Calamir took his stance.
Every time it adjusted its posture to swing the sword, everything around it seemed to sink into the ground, and the surrounding space distorted and crumpled.
“Huff… Ugh…”
Overwhelmed by the swirling Death Energy, Siron clutched his chest and collapsed, trembling. Rudine watched the situation with sparkling eyes, and Adina gestured to me to finish it quickly.
Siron’s eyes wavered.
His judgment clouded by the unbelievable sight before him, and distrust towards me began to blossom.
At that very moment.
"!!!"
Thwack—!!
It happened before my retort could even leave my mouth.
The Second Lord touched his face, unable to hide his surprise.
It seemed he belatedly realized the sharp something that had grazed the center of his face.
Ignoring him, I approached Siron, who had collapsed on the ground.
As I reached out to help him up, Siron, supported by my hand, looked at me with a bewildered expression.
“…What are you doing?”
“Helping you up, obviously.”
“No, now is not the time for this. We need to quickly persuade the Second Lord…!”
I cut him off in a calm tone.
“There’s no need for that. He’s already dead.”
“…Pardon?”
Siron quickly turned his head to look at the Second Lord.
“…He’s still alive, though.”
I chuckled and approached the Second Lord.
Myung-gak, seeing me approach, desperately darted his eyes around as if to express his refusal, but he couldn’t make any other move.
I paid him no mind and approached him, lightly flicking his forehead with my fingertip.
Then.
Crack.
A single, invisible line was drawn vertically from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, right down the center.
Splat!
Blood began to seep and bubble from the crack along the invisible line.
And then.
"!!!"
Rip!
A bizarre sound rang out, like a long piece of paper being torn.
In the momentary silence, as if time had stopped, his body split open along the invisible line.
The gap widened, and the moment his body was completely bisected, collapsing in two halves…
Boooom—!
The force that followed was like the destructive power of the creation of the universe.
The earth behind the Second Lord cracked as if screaming, and the clouds in the torn sky were shredded like cotton candy.
The pitch-black sky was split open, and sunlight seeped through the gap in the clouds.
The fissure extended to the edge of my vision.
I stared at it and muttered,
“Now he’s dead.”
“…”
Siron’s eyes went blank as he watched this.