Chapter 37: Horse (1)
Very nice; it kind of reminds me of the old days when I would channel most of my energy just to send out a few words.
But it also sucks that I acted like the very same bastard who has been tampering with my mind all this time, trying to possess my body.
“….”
Usually, he would have spat out some bullshit right now, but I guess meeting his sister sure takes a toll. Yes, I should have done that often now I have gained quite some resistance to my own and this body trauma.
On the cold night of autumn, a stray blue wisp of fire is hovering around the academy’s dormitory; some can see it, but most can’t. Beelzebub takes a look from above to see the full scenery of the academy.
“Wurl Mamon”
The name Mamon has been a nuisance to him before and after his death. Is it truly a coincidence that Mamon is here?
Well if Mamon is here, then unless this world has a second hero bastard, it doesn’t stand any chance at all. Maybe such a thing has happened, but how can I still remember the Mamon as a demon?
Because I was just in there? Maybe.
In the end, the more you know, the more danger you get, so I should just mind my business.
With his soul eyes on, although he doesn’t have any eyes right now, he can see many souls, all with intricate, multicolored symbols. These are the proofs of their life force and their power itself.
“Oh, find it.”
The mud man, as things turn out, is still alive, although barely. His form has already reduced to that of a slime.
Due to the mud man trait being similar to a spirit, he sneaks out his mana core before getting consumed entirely by that thing.
I do want to approach him, but because of Vilet, I have no choice but to say down.
And now the mud man—or should I say the blob of mud—is currently striding toward a tree, and then, he whispers something.
“The King Behind The Curtain”
Who?
After just saying that one word, the earth began to make way, creating a small hole that could fit one adult.
“Interesting, to think there is a bunker here.”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
The blob of mud strode through the dirt hole for about a minute before reaching the dark bunker about the size of my room that is only lit up in a part of the room where someone was reading a Bible.
Sitting on a wooden chair is a man wearing a black priest robe and a brown horse head with a long neck, wide white eyes, and opening its mouth, revealing white teeth… The mask is irritating me.
The horseman looked at the Bible for a while and then shifted his attention to the blob of mud.
SHRIEK
The bastard ripped a page of the book and then shoved it into the mouth, the mask’s mouth. After that, it threw the Bible into the wood fire.
Now that I think about it, this place has everything. Chair, table, bookshelves, a tree, a woodfire, and a carpet.
“….”
The horse bastard may be the psychotic type among humans.
BLOB
The blob of mud dropped down, splattering the mud everywhere and on the horse mask face, irritating the horse guy.
“Oh, don’t dirty the floor. Like, who’s going to clean up that mess?”
The blob of mud begins to take the form of a human but fails midway and flops down, reducing into an even more pathetic state.
“Oh, how miserable! Not only did you lose your honey, but you are now less than a human.”
“YOUUUU”
“Haizz, now I have to work so much earlier.”
The horse guy stood up and slowly approached the blob of mud, scaring the other. It then grabs the blob of mud and throws it to the floor, shooting mud all over the place.
BLOB
Now there is only a cracked red glistening mana core that is constantly producing small screams; the mud close to the mana core begins to surround it.
But the horse guy used one simple spell to clean all the mud before picking up the mana core and swallowing it, still from the horse mask.
“Maybe that mask is the head.”
“Oh, how long are you going to look?”
“???”
The horse guy is now looking at me directly with murderous intent, slowly building up, demonic energy swirling around the man and shooting up toward me.
Or so I thought, but the energy blast passed by me and toward the hole in the ceiling only for it to get cut down…
A terrible premonition washed over me; the giant runes lightened up, and a small pillar of light shot up to the ceiling, revealing a silhouette of a person.
“Finally—“
What he was met with was the head of a person wearing a sheep mask that covered half of the face.
Follow up is a flash of silver light through the dark and pass by the horse guy.
SLASH
And the horse guy's arm was severed in the blink of an eye, causing blood to spurt out everywhere.
By the cold blade of the figure wearing a blank white mask and a white tuxedo with a dark blue shawl standing right behind the horse guy.
But what I can see is a familiar gray hair with that accursed eye. My soul burns violently, and my mind races.
Kang Silverlight, I have heard enough information from Rango to know that he is nothing special, and yet that insane movement and aloof face keep reminding me of that hero.
…But one more alarming thing is that my legendary soul eyes that could pierce through anything can’t see his soul at all.
“Oh dear. Oops, I’m a horse.
The severed arm begins to morph itself toward his body and jump toward the wound arena, connecting itself.
“….”
“Surprised? Well, don’t.”
SNAP
“Because this is more surprising.”
With just one snap of the finger. Kang can feel something directly touching his brain, his skin prickling like thousands of ants are crawling underneath it, and before long his eye loses its blue and slowly turns into purple.
“NOW ACCEPT YOUR FATE—”
A line formed vertically at the horse guy’s mask down to his chest. Before he could understand what just happened, a voice appeared in front of him.
“Die and rot in hell.”
SLASH
The energy exploded, and multiple slashes appeared on his body, creating sword marks and causing the other’s blood to shoot up to the ceiling under the bloody face and ruthless, cold eye of Kang SilverLight.