Chapter 49: The Weight of Life
Feilon’s figure seemed to grow taller suddenly. In the night, the deep blue radiance surrounding him appeared almost tangible. Then, his right prosthetic arm reached out, aiming at Fischer in front of him.
“To survive, give it your all, Mr. Fischer.”
“Ding!”
His right hand suddenly erupted with an astonishing brilliance. Fischer’s pupils contracted as he pushed backward fiercely, but the radiance from his prosthetic had already coalesced into a solid form, turning into a beam of light shooting towards Fischer.
A warning bell rang in Fischer’s mind. As he quickly clutched his staff, a series of purple halos leaped up from the staff, transforming the area around Fischer into an illusion in an instant.
“Veer off.”
The Seven-Ring Magic inscribed by Renee, “Space Refraction.”
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
As the incantation left Fischer’s mouth, the blue beam was bizarrely bent by the illusory space in front of him, changing its course as if refracted, heading off into the distance. The light beam struck the walls of the Inner City head-on, slicing through the stone walls without any obstructions. Explosions erupted, sending chunks of rock propelled into the sky from the immense energy ignited by the blast.
The beam continued toward the outer sky, slicing through the clouds under the moonlit night until it gradually disappeared on the horizon.
Fischer’s expression became serious in an instant. The power ignited by his soul exceeded his imagination. If that weapon had hit him just now, he estimated he would have been vaporized.
Half of the distant city wall melted into lava, but Feilon didn’t glance in that direction at all. His gas mask fixated on Fischer, observing as the staff illuminated. Steam erupted violently around him, surging towards Fischer.
“Bang!”
Feilon aimed to stop Fischer from unleashing magic, and with the boost from his backpack, his physical abilities had been enhanced to a terrifying extent by the steam machinery. He delivered a powerful punch toward Fischer. Fischer ducked to evade and retaliated, landing a blow on Feilon’s gas mask.
However, Feilon didn’t flinch; hot steam erupted from under his mask as his prosthetic arm moved rapidly. Despite having just thrown a punch, it retracted with mechanical precision and slammed down onto Fischer’s shoulder.
Fischer stumbled back several steps, his shoulder feeling as if it had been hit by a bullet. While he struck Feilon, his magic was also ready. The magic on his staff was unleashed without reservation, firing full force at Feilon.
The Dance of Bees, Frostbite, and Spinner—these inscribed magics struck fiercely at Feilon, who was entangled by the Spinner and hadn’t moved yet. He felt a layer of frost covering his body’s surface, followed by the sound of buzzing cutting blades heading toward his neck.
“Awesome!!”
Deep blue light erupted all over Feilon’s body. Countless beams akin to the “Death Ray” that had just sliced the city wall radiated around him. Fischer’s magic was instantly torn apart by his rays, and the ground in the courtyard was shattered by explosions, with a massive shockwave lifting trees and soil into the air.
Fischer’s pupils contracted as he tightly gripped his staff, yet he was swept away into the air by that terrifying impact. After tumbling several times, he finally planted his staff into the ground to halt his momentum.
His suit was stained with dirt and mud. He looked up at Feilon, who was panting slightly. The backpack behind him suddenly opened, ejecting a metallic canister. The canister disintegrated mid-air, but it was empty inside, devoid of anything.
“Mr. Fischer, you have stronger magic! Let me witness it!”
The backpack quickly closed again, his pupils glowing blue, while another illusory wail arose. His right hand glowed again with the light of the Death Ray.
Fischer’s expression remained unchanged. Instantly, a magic glimmering with seven-ring purple light ignited at the tip of his staff. This magic was a unique creation developed together with Renee. Most high-level magic had been inscribed onto his staff by both, as the sorceress’s magical power was abundant and should not be wasted.
Seven-Ring Magic, “Renee’s Comet.”
The tip of Fischer’s staff collapsed inwards like a black hole, and in the next moment, that darkness suddenly transformed into a radiant deep purple. As the Death Ray in Feilon’s hand erupted, Fischer raised his staff, directing the purple beam surging forth from the black hole to meet it.
In an instant, where the blue and purple light met in the courtyard, a bizarre explosion erupted. Feilon’s beam seemed to gain weight as it encountered the comet’s light, sinking downwards. The ground was once again veiled in an enormous explosion.
However, Feilon didn’t pause even for a moment, continuing to unleash Death Rays from his prosthetic hand targeting Fischer, whose Death Ray had almost no cooldown time. The repeated onslaught left Fischer suffering greatly; even casting magic required time, and the explosions around him grew increasingly intense, causing a ringing in his ears.
While fighting and retreating, Fischer was not entirely willing to do so, but the enemy’s firepower was overwhelming, making it hard for him to cope. The shockwaves created by the collision of his magic with Feilon’s Death Ray sent debris flying through the air like bullets, and Fischer’s suit was riddled with holes.
At the very moment he retreated, Feilon’s gaze hidden beneath the gas mask shifted slightly, seemingly seizing an opportunity, and he fired a Death Ray towards Fischer’s body. Unable to evade it, Fischer had no choice but to reuse the “Space Refraction” magic.
The Death Ray was refracted and smashed into a building in the Sub-Human Residential Area below, igniting it as it penetrated straight through, causing large chunks of wood to fly up before falling back down under gravity.
The colossal noise from their battle had already drawn the attention of the Sub-Humans in the urban area. They hurriedly fled their rooms, trying to distance themselves from the center of the fight. Many Sub-Humans surged onto the streets, but in Fischer’s line of sight, under the falling pieces of wood, a few slower werewolf women were about to be crushed.
Before he could move, a deep blue figure had already landed in front of them, using the prosthetic hand to smash the wood to bits. The fragments of the building were obliterated mid-air. The panicked werewolf women turned back to see Feilon silently standing behind them, lowering his smoking prosthetic arm.
“City Lord.”
“You all go to the wall, do not approach here, to avoid being harmed.”
He helped the women up, pointing toward the edge of the city wall. Once they nodded and left, Feilon began to stride towards the distant Fischer. His backpack opened once more, spilling an empty metal canister onto the ground.
“Those Sub-Humans survived because of the sacrifice of those children. Do not waste their sacrifice, Mr. Fischer, let’s continue.”
Fischer took a breath, watching the fleeing Sub-Humans growing further away. While Feilon had gone to help them, he had gained a brief moment to recover. A series of purple halos coalesced in his hands, preparing his magic during this interval.
“Rescuing them by abandoning the bottom line is meaningless.”
Before Fischer could finish speaking, Feilon shrugged,
“Mr. Fischer, let’s continue our conversation after the battle ends. If there’s still a chance then, you are secretly preparing magic, and I am also using this opportunity to approach you.”
The moment these words left his mouth, Fischer suddenly realized that the Death Ray in his right hand had not ignited, but rather his left hand was raised high. Attached to his left arm was a glove-like device, and in the next second, Feilon swiftly reached out and gripped Fischer’s shoulder.
A tingling sensation surged from that glove, a strange feeling flooding his brain. It felt as if nothing had happened, yet Fischer sensed a disturbance in his mind, as if his vision was drifting further away from him, and his body was being stripped away. With his last glimmer of consciousness, he glanced at his own arm, noticing the magical circuits glowing were slowly fading, while the depigmented areas of his skin lightened, as if his blood had been dyed.
He was stripping away his own soul!
Fischer gritted his teeth, an overwhelming pain coursing through him. Fortunately, he had endured the torment from using the “Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans” twice before, which had granted him some resistance. He concentrated all his strength and thrust his left-hand staff towards Feilon’s abdomen. The purple light erupted suddenly, and the immense shockwave enveloped both Fischer and Feilon.
“Boom!!”
Smoke and flames erupted. Fischer, with a splitting headache, felt himself plummeting. It should have only taken seconds, yet it felt like he crashed down heavily onto a hard surface.
He felt as if his body was falling apart. If it weren’t for the physical enhancements he had from being a Dragon Race, he probably would have died by now.
But what about Feilon? He should not have been solved yet, as just a moment before, when magic erupted, Fischer glimpsed deep blue light swirling around Feilon’s body.
Amidst a powerful sense of faintness, Fischer shakily stood up. His vision was filled with stars as he looked down at his hands, relieved to see that his skin had returned to its normal color.
All around was dim, with faint blue glimmers flickering, illuminating the vague outlines here.
Where was this?
“Huh.”
“Ah.”
“Ugh.”
Whispers echoed all around, and Fischer vaguely felt something tugging at his pant leg. Looking down, he discovered a Sub-Human child whose seven orifices were leaking blue blood, staring fixedly at him.
Fischer’s pupils contracted, and he turned to look around, realizing he was in a massive underground plaza. Above was the town where the Sub-Humans lived, and the explosion had caused the ground above to collapse, which was how Fischer had fallen here.
Surrounding him were many Sub-Human children who could barely even walk. Their skin was gray, their seven orifices oozing blue blood, and their eyeballs bulging as they stared at Fischer, slowly crawling toward him as if craving something.
There was nothing here, only a chair embedded in the center of the plaza. A beam of moonlight shone through a large hole above, and Feilon’s figure slowly emerged from the darkness, stabilizing himself against the chair.
“Truly remarkable. This is the first time I’ve encountered someone who can release magic while having their soul extracted. It must be endured through tremendous pain and requires strong willpower. Indeed, Mr. Fischer, you are no ordinary man.”
He did not continue the attack, as if taking a simple halftime break. Fischer’s magic had shattered the default shield that he could only use once, but the fall seemed to have also inflicted some damage on his human body.
Feilon looked at the children mindlessly crawling toward Fischer and himself and then smiled. His magnetic voice softly spoke,
“A soulless shell, lacking ‘guidance,’ unconsciously craves a soul. That is why they approach you. Yet even if they sense the soul within us, they can only engage in simple biting and foraging. Their souls will never return.”
Feilon bent down to lift one bleeding child, doing so as he had countless times before. The child instinctively opened its mouth to bite at Feilon, but still in the midst of teething, its bite on the metallic mask posed no real threat.
“They are the ‘minors’ sacrificed for the good of the majority. Even if for some reason the Sub-Humans above can never learn of their contributions, I will always remember.” Feilon caressed the child’s hair. “Boki, you wanted to be a painter one day, loved eating steak the most, and hated peas.”
“Huh.”
“Rick, you wanted to be an official in my city one day, to help me deal with many, many documents.”
“Ugh.”
“Teresa, you wanted to design beautiful clothes for the Sub-Humans, ensuring everyone of all races wore beautiful garments.”
“Hehe.”
As each name was called out, the terrifying, mindless whispers and howls from the surrounding children ebbed and flowed alongside Feilon’s voice, tranquil like a lullaby.
“Even without souls, I will accompany them until they can no longer move; their sacrifices are worth it, just like those brave souls commemorated at Saint Nali every year for their sacrifices to the nation. They similarly devoted themselves for the benefit of the majority; there is no difference.”
Fischer had just tried to speak when he felt something tugging at his pant leg. Looking down, he saw a girl with wolf ears mindlessly gnawing at the muscle of his leg through his pants. Her clothes looked just like what she had worn the last time they met— a deep green dress.
That was Qiqi.
“Huh! Ah!”
Fischer couldn’t help but lower his head to pull her head away, only to see her equally gray, cold little face continuously leaking blue blood, her eyes devoid of spirit, as the blue blood streaming down the corners of her eyes—whether tears or something else—indicated her suffering. Even when held by Fischer, she continued to mindlessly gnaw at his shoulder and neck.
Fischer’s expression remained unchanged until he spotted a half-sealed envelope stained with blue blood peeking from her dress pocket. On that small envelope, Fischer’s signature floral script read,
“Fisher Benavides”
“Mr. Fischer, can I write to you when you return to Nali?”
Fischer’s expression darkened. He silently embraced Qiqi, and when she began to mindlessly bite at his shoulder and neck, he suddenly tightened his grip around her neck and twisted, breaking the fragile lifeline.
Her soul had already been taken; only their hollow shells remained in this place.
“As expected, Feilon.”
Fischer stood up again, gripping his staff as he looked at the distance, where Feilon also lowered the child he had been holding, standing up with a cold expression like ice.
“You should just die, bastard.”
[End of Chapter]
