“Dear Younger Master, we should go.” Ivena urged.
“The Elf is right. Kid, you can’t handle that guy.”
Angell also advised.
The warlock tore off his black robe, revealing his true appearance.
Blood-red beast ears and a wolf tail drooping behind him; he was actually a wolf-tribe Beastkin.
At this moment, a faint blue light emanated from his body, and his aura continued to rise.
Soul Ignition—El had heard of this technique.
Combat Aura is stored in the body, while Mana is stored in the soul.
By actively sacrificing the origin of the soul, one’s Spiritual Power can explode to a higher level in a short time, and Mana will surge forth continuously.
Once the soul is ignited, the process is irreversible.
In other words, as long as this warlock is left alone, he will die on his own after a period of time.
Even without the Demon’s reminder, El knew that the warlock was definitely not someone to be trifled with right now.
Before El could speak, the werewolf said, “El Regis, all the slaves here passed through my hands. And I’ve discovered something interesting…”
“The auction items just now didn’t die; they were saved by you? That explains it…… why you chose to strike at this time…”
No way…… El realized what he was trying to say.
The werewolf laughed, “Why don’t we make a bet? You stay and let’s have a fight. Otherwise, if you escape, I will kill every single slave here.”
Actually, he found it very strange—why would a noble care about the lives of slaves? But it didn’t matter; he just needed to exploit this point and seize this opportunity as much as possible to kill El Regis.
Ivena looked at El with concern, “Dear Younger Master, we should still…”
She wanted to leave and didn’t want El to take risks.
El felt an unprecedented anger, “By what right? Aren’t you also a Beastkin? In your eyes, what exactly do the lives of your own kind mean?”
He could not understand.
“Young Master Regis, you won’t understand…… lowly lives are like grass, born to be stepping stones for you nobles. Rather than prolonging such pain, it’s better for me to grant them liberation.”
The werewolf’s tone seemed somewhat sorrowful, yet he still said, “Our leader is working precisely to overthrow such an order. Their deaths are meaningful.
Heh, El laughed out of anger.
It seemed that as long as a high-sounding reason was applied, all evil deeds could be forgiven.
“In that case, you should unite all the oppressed people and challenge the nobles. Instead of attacking the weak.”
Vita spoke loudly, “If your leader is truly working to build a new order, then he must be a complete coward, a craven. He dares not swing his sword at the strong and only hides behind the scenes playing with schemes and intrigues.”
Vita’s voice was that of a soft and sweet young girl, but at this moment, her forceful words echoed through the Opera House, which was nearly in ruins.
“You understand nothing! How dare you slander that lord, I’ll……” The werewolf suddenly broke down and roared.
A ghost emitting a terrifying aura let out a shriek and dived from the ceiling of the Opera House, its sharp claws swinging out, vowing to tear the human before it into pieces.
In the next moment, cyan sword light wove into a net, and the ghost dissipated in mid-air without even letting out a scream.
“If you think my words are wrong, you are more than welcome to refute me. Vita sheathed her sword and spoke.”
“Oh, I really like this little girl; she said everything I wanted to say,” the Demon said.
“El Senior, I want to ask you to accompany me and defeat him together.”
She took a step forward and spoke without looking back.
Previously, Vita had no power, and she could only tolerate all injustices.
Now, she wanted to swing her sword, just as El Senior said, to “let justice be served and let sin be judged”.
Vita felt El’s anger as if it were her own.
Unlike Ivena, the Elf’s primary concern was El’s safety; as long as he was fine, everything else mattered little.
Vita, who had gained the recognition of the Sword Elf, was a sharp sword.
If they couldn’t save all the slaves here, it would become a heart demon that El would never be able to forget for the rest of his life.
Vita would not allow herself to yield; her love for El meant she would not allow him to suffer even a hint of grievance.
Of course, everything depended on El’s choice; if El didn’t want to fight, she naturally wouldn’t force it.
“Ivena, help me deal with the other cultists, okay? Vita and I will be responsible for defeating this werewolf.”
He said.
“I understand, Dear Younger Master.”
Since El had made his decision, Ivena could only obey his command.
However, the Elf’s lake-blue eyes sank into darkness.
Conflicts do not disappear; they only continue to accumulate until the day they explode.
“Damn it, you cursed noble, how dare you look down on me…”
The werewolf’s state of mind became increasingly frenzied, as the searing pain of his soul stimulated him every moment.
“Kill you, kill you, kill you…”
One undead creature after another appeared at his command, and his already massive Mana surged frantically at this moment.
The battle broke out once again.
Royas had never felt such pressure.
He had also received intelligence about the Elf from the Lavard family, with two main points described about her.
One was exquisite skill, capable of piercing a dragon’s armor with a single arrow.
The second was extraordinary concealment, such that even a master could not detect her traces.
Only now did he truly experience this.
Ivena was like a master dancer, moving nimbly through the crowd, the short sword in her hand mercilessly reaping the lives of the cultists.
Elegant, without a single trace of wasted movement; even the blood splashing from their necks couldn’t touch the corner of the Elf’s clothes.
“Hah!”
Royas roared, swinging a giant sword as tall as a person at Ivena, the surging Combat Aura causing spider-web-like cracks to appear on the floor beneath his feet.
Ivena had long seen through his intention to attack; with a twist of her body, she dodged the strike and, seizing this opening, stabbed toward Royas.
Not good—intuition told Royas that he would die!
At that moment, a huge skeletal hand emerged from beneath Ivena’s feet, resolving the crisis.
Phew…… that was close.
Royas hurriedly pulled back to distance himself from the Elf.
He couldn’t fight her head-on; the best way was to use those cultist fodder and the warlock’s undead to pull her around, dragging it out until the battle on the warlock’s side ended.
El sensed the situation inside his body; there was about half of his Mana left.
How could they win……
“Kid, do you want to make a deal?” the Demon suddenly asked.
“I’ll help you settle all this, and you give me a quarter of your body.”
El replied, “Why are you still thinking about that quarter…… even if I were willing to give my body to you, you couldn’t take it away. Besides, in your current half-dead state, what could you possibly accomplish?”
“It’s the Authority of Wrath. It’s inside your body. Once you master it, these pieces of trash will be far from being a match for you.”
“But currently, you haven’t received the recognition of ‘Wrath’. I can help you bypass this point, which is to help you ‘ignite’ it and use it.”
Angell pondered, “However… the problem you mentioned does indeed exist.”
Alright, I’ll change it…
After a while, he spoke again, “How about this, El. I want a promise from you. For now, I haven’t thought of what I want you to do… but you must be prepared to bleed heavily.”
“I’m willing to trade a quarter of a promise,” El said.
“You’re bargaining with a Demon?” Angell laughed, “Alright, alright, you win. How about it? Shall we act now?”
“No, it’s not needed for the time being.”
El looked at Vita, who was swinging her sword in front of him.
“We will win.”