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"Ah! So beautiful..." Lathel gazed at Black Rabbit, smiling as he said, "I really like your face when you’re in despair and suffering."

"It reminds a little of the past—when I killed those people, they begged just like you are now."

He reached out, gently stroking Black Rabbit’s sweat-soaked face.

"Please... spare ..." Black Rabbit trembled, stamring her words.

His eyes were on her, yet not truly seeing her. It was as if he was seeing the victims from his past life—those who also begged him, crying in despair, just like she was now.

"Please... let go."

"Lathel! Even if I beco a demon, I will never forgive you."

"You bastard! I’ll be waiting for you in hell."

"Lathel! I didn’t know anything, it was all my mother—she was the one who did everything. Just kill her, please spare ..."

Countless voices echoed from the depths of his mory, yet Lathel only smirked, his expression as cold as ice.

Seeing his expression, Black Rabbit’s body trembled even more, tears flowing down her cheeks like twin streams. "Please, don’t kill , I will..."

Lathel glanced at her, giving a warm smile—but in her eyes, that smile was like that of a devil pressing a scythe to her throat.

"Let’s continue..." Lathel said, "The strongest person you’ve ever t reached level 8, right?"

Black Rabbit tried to think for a mont before replying, "Wrong!"

"Level 7?"

"Not exactly."

"That person is the leader of Nightfang?"

"Not exactly."

Lathel stroked his chin, seeming to realize sothing. As he thought, Black Rabbit trembled—she felt as though he might kill her at any mont.

The hand caressing her face beca so terrifying that she felt it was like a blade about to pierce straight through her cheek.

"You can contact the leader of Nightfang?"

"Not exactly."

"You can only contact Nightfang through a middleman."

"Wrong!"

"Ah!" Lathel gave a small nod, withdrew his hand, then walked over to the chair in the resting pavilion, sat down, and poured himself a fresh cup of tea.

Crack!

"No! No! Stop... don’t do this!" Black Rabbit scread as her head was suddenly twisted slowly backward by an invisible giant hand.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

"No! No! Pfff!" she scread again, but when her head turned 90 degrees, she instantly coughed up a mouthful of blood.

At that mont, her eyes were filled with fear—and alongside it, hatred.

Even though her head was about to be twisted completely backward and the blood in her mouth kept her from speaking, her eyes remained wide open, staring straight at Lathel.

Yes—those eyes were fixed on him, as if trying to carve his face into her mory.

Crack!

A second later... Black Rabbit’s head was wrenched 180 degrees backward. Her neck bones snapped, and her head, no longer able to hold itself upright, drooped limply like a willow branch.

Blood stread from her mouth, flowing upward across her face like a reversed stream before dripping toward the ground.

However, before the drops could touch the earth, they froze midair—and then...

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Black Rabbit’s end mirrored that of Black Wolf—her body dissolved into two crimson orbs of blood, floating in the air.

Lathel set his teacup down, and the two blood orbs began to shrink until they were no larger than two peas.

With a wave of his hand, the blood orbs drifted toward him, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

"Evelyn, have you finished absorbing that energy yet?" Lathel asked with a grin.

"Not yet..." Evelyn’s voice echoed in his mind. "The soul contains quite a lot of energy, and there’s a trace of so strange force within it. I need more ti to assimilate it before I can fully absorb it."

Lathel gave a slight nod, his gaze falling to the surface of his tea, which reflected his own face.

"You’ve still kept so of the Dark Mist, haven’t you?" Lathel said with a smile.

"Yes, quite a bit," Evelyn replied simply, her tone carrying a faint weariness, as if she were about to drift into sleep.

Lathel’s smile turned wicked as he murmured, "Lucien, I’m really looking forward to this... I wonder how long your protagonist’s halo will protect you."

He looked at the two pea-sized blood orbs floating before him and chuckled. "Ah! I just thought of a very fun ga. Lucien, are you ready?"

...

Nightti.

"What?! The assassination failed?" Irelia stood before a figure cloaked in black, their entire body hidden beneath the robe. Upon hearing their report, she imdiately shouted, her voice filled with confusion and shock.

"Impossible! He’s just a useless man. Even if he’s beco an Awakened, there’s no way you could have failed."

The black-robed figure spoke, their voice so distorted it was impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman.

"The information about Prince Lathel is accurate," they said. "Perhaps during the assassination attempt, Professor Lyra appeared unexpectedly."

"The life flas of two mbers of my organization suddenly went out. That clearly ans the enemy eliminated them instantly."

"Other than Professor Lyra, I can’t think of any other suspect."

"Tsk!" Irelia ground her teeth, a deep wave of disappointnt welling inside her. "But... this is your fault. The assassination failed because you didn’t prepare thoroughly enough."

"You’re right," the black-robed figure said. "That’s why I’ll send another mber to take over this mission. However, you should rember—if the next person also fails, then we’ll consider the mission canceled. The paynt will not be refunded, understood?"

Irelia pressed her lips together, but in the end she nodded and said, "I... understand."

"Good. Within seven days, I’ll send you the latest information." The black-robed figure stepped back, then vanished into the darkness.

In the room, only Irelia remained, sitting beside a lone, flickering candle whose weak light made her seem all the more solitary in the small chamber.

"Hopefully next ti it will succeed," Irelia murmured. "I’ve spent all the money I had, even took a little from Father. If this fails..."

She didn’t dare think any further.

After seeing Lucien beaten so badly, and learning the one responsible was Lyra, her rage had surged to the point where she wanted to tear Lyra into a hundred pieces.

But Irelia wasn’t a fool—she knew Professor Lyra was soone she could not afford to provoke.

And so, she directed all of her fury toward Lathel.

"If it weren’t for him, Lucien would surely be admired by everyone right now, already chosen as Professor Lyra’s personal disciple."

"If Lathel didn’t exist, all the glory would belong to Lucien."

"I’m not wrong! Everything I’ve done is for Lucien’s sake. In this world, he’s the only one who truly cares about ."

Irelia thought back to the first ti she t Lucien and everything since then. Even though his heart and mind were always directed toward Selvia, she could never forget the gestures and acts of care he had shown her.

Her family were nothing but demons, treating her as worthless—planning to marry her off to so pig-like nobleman for profit, without caring what she thought.

Lucien’s appearance had been like a ray of light piercing the darkness of her life.

If Lathel knew what Irelia was thinking, he would surely recognize it as the work of the protagonist’s halo—that was why she could so easily trust and love Lucien so deeply.

"Irelia!"

"Ah! Who’s there?" Irelia startled at the voice calling from outside.

"It’s , Aris."

Hearing this, Irelia let out a relieved sigh. She had thought her father had discovered she’d stolen money and had co for her.

Thankfully... it was Aris, not her father.

"Co in."

As soon as she spoke, Aris pushed the door open and stepped inside. Seeing the dim room, she asked, "You’re not going to light a magic candle?"

Irelia shook her head. "No need, I’m used to it like this."

Aris glanced around the room, her eyes seeming to search every corner and shadow.

"Did you co to see for sothing?" Irelia asked haltingly, a hint of worry in her voice.

’Did she hear the conversation earlier?’ Irelia thought to herself. ’Probably not. And even if she did, maybe... maybe she’d agree with what I’m doing.’

"Ah! Lucien has woken up."

At Aris’s words, Irelia’s face lit with joy. "Really? He... he... No, I have to go see him at once."

"Wait!" Aris quickly stopped her. "He just woke up—his mind isn’t fully clear yet. Vice Dean Morlan is checking his condition."

"Ah! But... I..." Irelia’s impatience was obvious, mingled with anticipation. "I really want to see him."

Aris tilted her head, her dark eyes studying Irelia as if she’d realized sothing, then softly said, "You like Lucien, don’t you?"

"No! That’s not it, don’t talk nonsense, I... I..." Irelia reacted like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, fur bristling as she protested again and again.

"Don’t deny it." Aris sighed. "I’m a woman; of course I know exactly what you’re thinking."

Hearing this, Irelia pressed her lips together and lowered her head, her expression turning sad and disappointed. "Yes..."

She admitted it—and after that, there was only silence. The darkness around her seed like a beast nad "loneliness," wrapping itself around her, making her appear all the more desolate and sorrowful.

Aris watched her for a mont, then...

"Heh?!" Irelia stiffened in surprise as she felt Aris embrace her. "Aris, you..."

"If you need soone to talk to, I’ll listen," Aris said softly, her gentle and caring tone making Irelia feel as though she might burst into tears.

Irelia’s eyes grew misty, but she bit her lip hard, trying to hold back the tears and not let Aris see her weakness.

Aris gently patted her back and said, "I understand what you’re going through. He’s a fool, but don’t worry—I’ll help you."

At those words, Irelia couldn’t hold back anymore and began to cry loudly.

In the dim room, two won embraced—one sobbing loudly, while the other... wore an expression of cold indifference and disdain.

Of course, Irelia couldn’t see Aris’s face, so she remained moved by the words Aris had just spoken.

After a while, Irelia cald down, took a deep breath, and asked, "Why... why would you want to help ?"

Aris tilted her head, a faint look of puzzlent crossing her face before she smiled lightly and said, "We’re friends—helping each other is only natural, isn’t it?"

"Ah! Friends? Yes... we’re friends..." Irelia nodded, and on that once-sorrowful face, hope now began to bloom.

Aris continued, "Right now, Morlan is examining Lucien’s condition. Even if you go there now, you won’t be able to see him imdiately."

"So, let’s use this free ti to do sothing that will slowly draw his heart toward you."

"Ah! You an..." Irelia half-understood, half-didn’t.

At that mont, Aris took out a small red pouch and placed it on the table. "I was planning to give this to Lucien, but it seems you need it more than I do."

"This is..." Irelia looked at the red pouch curiously. "What is it?"

Aris opened the pouch, revealing beans as red as blood.

"Ah! These are... Blood Beans?" Irelia exclaid.

"That’s right." Aris smiled. "You know what they do. No matter how they’re prepared, they’re an excellent tonic for the body."

"This... you..." Irelia stamred, as if about to refuse.

But Aris seed to know exactly what she was going to say, and imdiately replied with a smile, "Don’t worry. I know my talent is diocre—no matter which student you compare to, I can’t match them."

"But I was still able to beco Vice Dean Morlan’s disciple, and that’s entirely thanks to Lucien’s halo."

"Everything I have now, I owe to him. So, a pouch of Blood Beans doesn’t an much to ."

Hearing this, Irelia gave a small nod. "You an... I should make Blood Bean soup for him?"

"Exactly." Aris nodded. "As long as you care for him enough, I refuse to believe he won’t notice you."

Irelia’s face flushed red at her words, her hands clasping together, lips pressed tightly as if she were imagining sothing embarrassing.

"I... I understand. I’ll go make the soup right away." Irelia grabbed the pouch of Blood Beans from the table and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Aris’s gaze followed Irelia’s departing figure, her face now cold, her eyes glinting with a terrifying killing intent—and the deepest disdain.

Only she and Lathel knew that hidden among those Blood Beans... were two tiny blood orbs.

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