NOVEL NEXT Chapter 669: Fishing!
The uncontrollable pain, hidden in the deepest recesses of her soul, emerged once again before Amiel's eyes.
The cage!
Originally meant for large dogs, Amiel was curled up inside it!
The man known as her father, who had actually gone insane long ago, kept drawing blood from her body relentlessly!
'Why! Why!
Why do I lack the Talent!
You mudblood, why did you Awaken the Talent!'
After every instance of drinking or injecting Fresh Blood, the crazed man would erupt into a furious rage, lashing her violently with a whip while subjecting her mother to even more brutal abuse.
Eventually, her mother, whose arms and legs had been chopped off and was kept in a jar, died.
The stench of decay permeated the entire basement.
The man cursed everything.
Afterward, he brought in a swarm of insects to feast on her mother's corpse.
Amiel watched with her own eyes as her mother's flesh turned to bones.
She was terrified, frightened, and wanted to cry.
But she dared not.
She only dared to sneak closer to her mother and whisper softly.
Then, she lay in her mother's embrace.
But after being discovered by the man once, her mother's bones were also shattered.
The man disposed of most of the bones.
Amiel was left with very few.
She made a tiny Puppet out of those fragmentary bones.
A very rudimentary one, with only symbolic a head, torso, and limbs.
And this became Amiel's driving force to endure.
Every day she would talk to her mother.
Time passed, and Amiel spent each day being beaten and drained of blood.
Until—
'You mudblood are now ready to serve as a new birthing machine!
Now, get down on your knees for me!'
The man bellowed.
But this time Amiel resisted.
She killed the man, but the 'mother' she had subconsciously used as a Weapon shattered, and no matter how she tried, she could never piece together a complete 'mother' again.
She howled in grief.
Freeman was on the verge of tears as well.
The neophyte Blood Gladiator clenched his teeth to keep from bursting into tears. At that moment, Freeman saw himself old and weary once more.
He had acquired money, a wealth beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
He had a beautiful wife, and every time they attended a banquet, they were always the center of attention.
The envy in other people's eyes always made him feel comfortable and content.
But a severe illness woke him up completely.
He lost his health.
He was no longer young.
Not only did he see unsettling looks in the eyes of his close associates, but even his wife's gaze held a hint of disdain.
The wealth he had striven for all his life became a poison hastening his death.
His wife conspired with his trusted subordinates.
The two of them planned to take everything from him.
Then, he fed them to the dogs.
Without any desire for games where they would kill each other and the survivor would be spared, he simply threw them into a cage with several famished, Bloodthirsty Hounds.
Amidst the carnage, the woman claimed she was carrying his child.
But he was indifferent.
In fact, the woman was indeed pregnant, and the child was likely his.
If it had been before, he would have been overjoyed.
He had always wanted a child.
But now?
It no longer mattered!
Nothing mattered anymore!
What mattered was that he too felt the looming presence of Death!
He couldn't allow it!
He wanted to be young again!
He wanted to be healthy!
Leveraging his extraordinary wealth, Freeman soon obtained some secret information, but as time passed, he grew more and more desperate.
He lacked the Talent.
And even if he had Talent, there was no way to regain youth.
That pain tormented him every moment.
Just when Freeman had managed to escape this torment, facing this memory once again, his mouth opened wide and snapped shut, yet no sound emerged.
"Don't!"
Freeman didn't shout out, but Amiel did.
She didn't just shout out; Miss Staff was also streaming with tears.
Moreover, she became completely catatonic.
Upon witnessing this scene, Catherine let out a cold sneer.
This,
was just the prelude!
It was when the spear finally pierced through Amiel's body, and the 'Power of Suffering' it contained fully erupted, that he would truly experience a fate worse than death.
Amiel would be trapped in a cycle of painful memories, endlessly looping until his soul shattered.
The process was exceedingly long.
For Amiel, it would seem as long as an entire world.
Amiel would keep howling and crying.
Catherine looked forward to it.
Of course, Freeman, left with only a head, would suffer the same fate.
At this moment, the Saintess of the 'Pain Church' didn't care about anything else.
From the moment she was hit with the dung bomb, Her Holiness the Saintess completely lost her sanity.
What reading memories, what mastermind behind the scenes.
Unimportant! All unimportant!
She just wanted to torture the two of them!
To make these two bastards, who caused her such humiliation, wish for death!
No one could stop her!
Her rage had long...
Gone out!
Cold.
Ice-cold.
Colder than the chill of harsh winter, a hush appeared in the dense forest; in an instant, frost began to form on the trees, and in the next moment, more ice crystals appeared in the air.
An ice-blue spear materialized in front of the thrown black spear.
The two spears collided mid-air.
Clash!
Tip to tip.
The blue-white seemed to freeze everything in its path.
The black-gray seemed to obliterate all.
Invisible waves of force cut through the surrounding trees, cleaving them in half.
Amiel had long since fled, kicking Freeman's head away as he ran.
As Freeman's head tumbled along, his mouth opened and closed with the shape of the word 'Father.'
Catherine saw this.
It was at this moment, the initially pride-entangled, then anger-driven Saintess of the 'Pain Church' finally regained her rightful rationality.
She instantly recognized Freeman's identity.
Or rather...
She recognized the identity of the 'Blood Descendants.'
The events that transpired in South Los had the full attention of the Saintess of the 'Pain Church.'
In fact, in some ways, she was even more focused on it than the 'Spirit Medium' of South Los.
Because, the 'Blood Descendants' were once Nobles.
Moreover, it was after her family, the Ainhars family, and the Bert family received the inheritance of the 'Bloodline Clan' that they truly developed and grew in stature.
Most importantly, their livelihood in Doldot Port, according to the original map, belonged to the 'Bloodline Clan.'
Thus, the Saintess of the 'Pain Church' had an exceedingly detailed understanding of the 'Blood Descendants.'
Including their appearance, abilities, personality, strength, and so on.
However...
The strength seemed to have a huge discrepancy!
Sensing the pressure from the 'Spear of Pain,' Catherine clenched her teeth tightly.
The opponent was definitely not some Arcana Level powerhouse.
But...
An Entrant!
When this thought surfaced, the Saintess of the 'Pain Church' only felt a mild surprise, but no further shock.
Because, if she were a 'Blood Descendant,' she too would hide her power.
Of course, such composure from the Saintess of the 'Pain Church' was because she still had the trump card bestowed by His Crown.
Without hesitation, Her Holiness the Saintess was ready to use her trump card.
But, the Blood Descendants were quicker.
To be precise, the 'Blood Bat' was faster—
Zoom!
An invisible yet intense sound wave hit Her Holiness the Saintess.
Splat!
Immediately, Her Holiness the Saintess was sent flying, blood spewing from her mouth.
At the same time, an unprecedented killing intent descended from the heavens.
Amiel and Freeman were instantly pinned down by this killing intent, unable to move an inch.
The ice crystal spear and the Spear of Pain exploded outright.
Boom!
The blue-white and black-gray maelstrom scattered in all directions like a whirlwind.
Arthur, controlling the puppet of the 'Blood Descendants,' sensing this tangible killing intent, breathed a slight sigh of relief—
He had finally lured it out!