The ship cabin was gradually turning colder and colder. Roel stared calmly at the white-robed young man whose right arm had already been petrified, and the shuddering Douglas returned the stare too. He couldn’t comprehend how the other party could have possibly been here.
“N-no, this is impossible. How did you manage to find…”
“We exchanged gazes, didn’t we? How is your arm feeling?”
Roel answered the doubt of the man, a small gift before sending him on his way.
Douglas’s face immediately turned ghastly pale. He subconsciously lowered his gaze to look at his petrified arm. He couldn’t have imagined that the lingering traces of mana in his arm would have actually created a trail for the boy to find his real body.
“W-wait a moment, I’m one of the executives of the Saints Convocation, and I have a high standing in the Scholar Guild too. Y-your name is Roel, right? Tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best to satisfy you!”
Douglas’s white eyes gradually regained their color as he squeezed out a strained smile on his face. He anxiously revealed his high standing, hoping to convince the boy before him to spare him. To his despair, nothing he said could melt the cold look on the boy’s face.
“Spare yourself from the effort. There’s nothing you have that’s important to me.”
“Then what’s important to you? Tell me!!”
“… Your absence. That’s what’s important to me.”
Staring down at the enemy who had infiltrated SS Saint Mary to assassinate Charlotte, the frost aura shrouding Roel began to stir. Douglas staggered backward in horror. Then, all of a sudden, his body suddenly exploded, causing his flesh to fly outward in all directions as a fog of blood swiftly suffused the cabin.
This was Douglas’s final bid for survival, his last trump card.
Blood Flesh Dissection.
This spell exploded his body, causing it to dissect into over a thousand pieces, each infused with his will. As long as one of them could escape, he would have a chance at revival.
Of course, the price of doing so was the loss of his important organs and physical functions. He would become a being that was neither living nor dead. However, this was still much better than death. As long as a breath remained in him, he could slowly retrieve whatever he had lost. After all, this was a supernatural world where the impossible was plausible.
Douglas knew that Roel wasn’t going to let him off, so he was decisive in the activation of his spell. The explosion that occurred in this small cabin produced a shockwave that blasted everything into the open sky.
This was, after all, the self-destructive explosion of an Origin Level 2 transcendent. Its shockwave was powerful enough for someone from a thousand miles away to clearly feel its terrifying force.
The warship Douglas was on, SS Saint Martin, split into two halves under the force of the explosion, and the pulpy mashed remains of the sailors tumbled into the sea together
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