BOOM!

A shadow engulfed in black flames with two huge Phoenix fire wings appeared out of nowhere. It was wielding two pitch-black swords, typically worked as those used by warriors in the Orman Colosseum. It rushed at breakneck speed towards Medusa.

Fwooosh!

Medusa didn’t even realize she had been hit and barely got the chance to respond. Her eyes shot open as she stared at her assailant in shock.

Little rivulets of blood dripped down her lips. All she could say was a whisper. “Pseudonym?”

None of the present really understood what was going on. Helial, Lumia and Snowflake stared at the scene in confusion. Their brains couldn’t keep up with the events.

“Damn. I gotta stop him,” a well-known voice snarled as someone promptly reached for the dark shadow. “He’s lost his mind, he’s doing it FOR REAL!”

“Has Pseudonym, the greatest warrior in Orma, just stabbed the descendant of the Sect of the Worthy?” a servant mumbled.

Now, Pseudonym’s armor was neatly visible as it imposingly stood against a dying Medusa. Two blades plunged into her breast and split her in two.

One second later, Pseudonym gathered all of his strength. He generated a sudden explosion. Medusa’s body was blown to pieces as he screamed: “Here’s the merciless end you’ve condemned your slaves to!” Pseudonym was seized by a boundless rage. That scene seemed to have awakened something wildly primordial in him.

Medusa had just been killed on the spot. Everyone’s jaw was still dropped. There was something though which made this seem quite recoverable; Miss Medusa’s body wasn’t too torn apart. There was still time to bring her back to life. Pseudonym would face countless consequences, but at least he had not shut the door on himself. They could still save Medusa.

Once reached the First Phase, everybody not yet ripped off to the least fleck of bones could be brought back to life in the following twenty-four hours. Only after Immortality one would lose this breathtaking benefit.

The crowd was still trying to figure out why Pseudonym would attack Medusa like that all of a sudden. Pseudonym had appeared out of nowhere indeed. His attack was so thundering it left no room for counterattacks. Not only did this showcase Pseudonym’s complete advantage in strength, but it also shed a light on the rooted hatred he must have against the girl from the Sect of the Worthy.

Before everyone’s shocked gaze, Pseudonym gathered his black flames over his palm. They swiftly split into fine threads. Each of those flew down on the shreds of what used to be Medusa.

Fshhhh

The smell of carbonic Goblin meat reached everyone’s nostrils. The black flames turned the remains of Medusa into ashes. Only few tiny pieces were left, which the black flames didn’t spare. The very last remnant of the young woman was pulverized.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Deadly silence.

Medusa was gone.

Snowflake stared at Pseudonym, his eyes painted in pure terror. For how arrogant and overbearing the cat was, he would have never even done anything like that. And that guy wouldn’t even accept the support of no strong power. Pseudonym had just erased Medusa from the face of the earth.

Medea was staring blankly at the scene as she whispered: “Big sister…”

Lumia’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she pondered what would expect Pseudonym now. Medusa was no ordinary warrior; she was the descendant of the Sect of the Worthy and cousin of Comodus. Comodus himself, or rather his father Aure, would seek justice soon enough. Pseudonym was strong, but Comodus wasn’t weak either. He had already reached the Fifth Phase. Also, the Sect of the Worthy could boast many warriors even stronger than him. If nobody had sided with the champ, Pseudonym would have been executed.

Pseudonym turned towards a jaw-dropped Helial. His voice exuding hatred and despise, he said: “There’s no such thing as a non-valuable life. Today, Medusa wasn’t the only one who lost her life. You’re supported by a powerful faction that’s willing to cover up your actions. And yet it was me who had to do something. I have no one. The consequences to what I’ve done will be soon wide known. The Sect won’t let me go. Today is the day I die too, because you weren’t willing to spare these simple lives.

As fate would have it we and those men step on different paths. We stand up high, amongst the strong. They stand down low, amongst the weak. But if the strong don’t help the weak, then what expects our world? Do you still think you did right?” Pseudonym angrily shook his head. “Bear in mind that when the living stop helping each other, drunk with power and egocentrism, then fate will triumph over free will,” Pseudonym roared with a hoarse voice. He threw his black swords before him and raised his hands in surrender.

Iblis smelled burning and slowly opened his eyes. The fritters were getting all burnt in the hot oil. Helial’s entire Soul now smelled of burnt fritters.

He raised a hand to his chin and stroked an imaginary beard. “These visions can get extremely interesting. I’ll definitely refine the Skill mastering the space-time. I’m sure I received quite a few Epiphanies thanks to the Shithead’s Runes.”

The Devil cast a glance outside Helial’s Soul just in time to see Medusa pull a long dagger out of its sheath. Without too much caring, he dug out of the shelf the ingredients needed to prepare fritters all over again. Fritters took priority over any apocalyptic Skill whatsoever.

Then he stopped, leaned against the cooking surface and closed his eyes once again.

Pseudonym in chains.

Pseudonym deprived of his armor before the eyes of everyone. As a reprimand of what they were capable of, the Sect of the Worthy executed him.

Everybody was staring blankly at the greatest warrior in Orma as he fell. Helial felt a pang to the heart. He knew he could have done something, he knew he could have turned the tables for the invincible warrior. This would weigh down his heart forever. It would make an insurmountable obstacle on his Dao of Mana. This regret was doomed to stand in the way between him and his higher goals.

So perished Pseudonym, bastion of the talent of Orma’s recent generations, unrivalled amongst his equals, but amongst the strongest as well.

“Well, I see why you chose this one, Jeanne…” Iblis mumbled as he withdrew his mind from these visions.

However, Iblis swore to Helial and to himself he would never interpose in behalf of the boy. By revealing such a significant detail - a dominant tile in his life -, Iblis would have bestowed Helial with endless benefits. He saw it fitting to shut up.

The lord of Destruction wouldn’t make bad on his promise too easily.

…

…

…

…

“I mean, who’s ever gonna know it,” the Devil said to himself.

“Attack Medusa. Now,” Iblis told Helial as his eyes flew back to his recipes book.