Chapter 335: Chapter 335: Exposure Chapter 335: Chapter 335: Exposure Apart from the man on stage, within the bodies of every cloaked figure in attendance, strange substances were being pulled away.
“Choose , I am ready!” people shouted loudly, yet Dilio only smiled without responding.
Martha looked around and finally, her gaze rested on Roger.
“This gentleman…”
Roger lifted his head.
“Don’t you want to give it a try?”
“Alright then.”
Roger nodded slightly without hesitation and walked up to the stage.
But just as Martha was about to remove the mask from Roger’s face, Dilio standing beside her suddenly spoke up:
“What are you here for?”
He frowned, holding the mask in his hand, “I’m afraid I cannot give you what you want.”
“You know what I want?”
Roger was intrigued.
“I don’t know, but the only thing I am sure of is that you are different from them!”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the scene around them changed abruptly!
The cloaked figures gathered below the stage vanished, and only Martha, Dior, and Roger remained on the empty platform, with Dior’s gaze turning cold.
“It seems you’ve done sothing unpleasant to my dear maid…”
As he spoke, figures started erging from the walls around them, and Roger looked over.
All the people that appeared had the sa face.
“Martha, which one is the real you?”
“Does it matter?”
All of the Marthas spoke in unison.
“The sa face, the sa build, the sa personality, the sa abilities.”
Dilio spread his hands.
“Look at this perfect situation, everyone has an equal chance to be with , I am such a genius!”
“Crack!”
Roger crushed the baseball mask on his face, and fragnts fell from his fingertips to the ground.
A look of regret appeared on the face of Dilio standing opposite him, “You’ve ruined a piece of art.”
Roger looked around, “Making so many identical won.”
He sighed.
“Don’t you get tired of it?”
“Why should I?”
Dilio shook his head without hesitation, “Although they are identical, I am different.”
Before Roger could grasp the aning of Dilio’s words, the man across from him continued:
“Respected guest, the service has ended.”
As his words fell, the Marthas surrounding Roger launched an attack!
They tore off their evening dresses, grew taller, their skin turned pale and rigid, sharp fangs protruded from their mouths, their limbs beca distorted, and wings on their backs fluttered, smashing towards Roger like missiles!
Roger knew that it must have been the anomaly that had just occurred to him that exposed his identity.
Seeing the transformation on stage, every cloaked figure in the crowd erupted in hysterical shouts, with strange energies being pulled from each of them, but Roger alone remained calm throughout.
Roger was still unclear about the nature of the substances being taken from these people.
Faced with the overwhelming attack, he no longer had any room to dodge.
The light of the Dharma Seal blossod.
The Quinn Dharma Seal shielded his entire body, and the Cursed Sword leapt into his hand, Roger felt as though he could sense the malice and hunger emanating from the blade.
The weapon was eager to begin its slaughter.
[Secret Technique—Sword Dance]
The Steel Sword flicked up in a swift upward slash, striking the opponent before the first shadow could even co close.
“Boom!”
There was no splatter of blood. At the last mont, Roger’s wrist trembled slightly, transforming the slicing motion into a slap. The terrifying force, having been enhanced several tis, burst forth from his body.
The first shadow to be hit was blasted away like a cannonball, its body moving sideways, knocking down several figures jumping from the sky.
The change in swordsmanship at the last mont wasn’t because Roger was rciful to beauty; at that instant, he didn’t even have ti to think—it was a purely instinctual reaction from his body.
From the tip of his toes, across the bare feet, to the knees and the waist, power flowed upward in stages—in this mont, Roger seed not to be fighting.
Energy burst from within, and his Steel Sword was dancing.
Swish!
The dark blade reflected no light, and in the next mont, a dense series of muffled grunts could be heard.
Thump thump thump!
Blood sprayed, and screams rang out.
With each target struck, Roger’s swordplay beca increasingly fierce, his speed grew even faster, and his Steel Sword swung impenetrably.
In every blossoming flash of the sword, blood splattered.
Sword Dance.
It wasn’t the sword that was dancing, but the blood!
When everything ended, all that surrounded him were severed limbs and broken arms, and the dark blade greedily absorbed every drop of blood that stuck to it.
Chunks of flesh on the ground squird, but in the next second, the dark mist shrouding the blade suddenly surged, like a wild beast gone mad, unabashedly absorbing the essence from the corpses on the ground.
Roger’s wrist trembled slightly, and he had no choice but to shatter the dark fog enveloping him.
This weapon was truly sinister.
Although powerful, it was also like a ticking ti bomb.
[Igni Dharma Seal]
Roger pushed forward with his palm, and flas raged; the fragnted corpses on the ground, as if eting their natural enemy, disintegrated mid-repair, then slid off the bodies like wax and disappeared upon hitting the ground.
When the flas died down, what remained beside Roger was a pile of pitch-black char.
Throughout it all, Dilio maintained his original stance, standing quietly to the side.
“I an no harm,” Roger said with a smile, spreading his hands.
“I’ve co here just to investigate this manor. As the current master of the manor, I think you might be able to help .”
“Especially with that.”
As he spoke, Roger pointed at the bone mask in Dilio’s hand.
“There’s sothing on it that I need; we might be able to talk,” Roger said.
“There’s no need for that,” Dilio shook his head.
“Indeed, this mask is sothing I obtained from the manor,” he said, his eyebrows lifting slightly, his handso face looking exceedingly arrogant.
“But why should I tell you?”
“Every mask, to …”
“Has exceptional significance!”
“Swish!”
The next second, Dilio standing in front of him disappeared abruptly.
“Bang!”
Roger raised his sword to block, sparks flying off the blade as Dilio’s handso face appeared before his eyes, his hands now wearing a pair of tal gloves etched with complex patterns, their tips as red as fresh blood, like the purest rubies.
“Don’t let my nails catch you…”
“You will bleed.”
“Bleed a lot.”
With a cold laugh, Roger said, “What are those on your hands? Special tools for mingling with high society ladies?”
The muscles on his arms tensed, and power erupted; Dilio’s complexion tensed, and he was forced back several steps by Roger’s pressure.
Whether in body or spirit, Roger now showed no weaknesses among his peers.
With both hands on his sword and dark mist swirling around the blade, his whole face seed sowhat distorted.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Once I’ve dealt with you, I have an old friend to catch up with.”
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