The air crackled with tension as the old witch's face twisted with barely contained fury, her agitation palpable as another anguished scream tore from Jaye's lips.
"You…" she hissed, her voice trembling with a storm of emotions, yet she clung to her composure, her daughter's life hanging in the balance.
"I will agree," she said, her words sharp and deliberate, "but you will have to swear an oath to let us go. How else can I trust you won't kill us after I give you what you want?"
The old witch's demand was a desperate bid for leverage, her eyes glinting with defiance despite her precarious position.
Leylin's gaze remained cold, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I highly doubt you have the ability to raise any demands here."
He stepped closer to the pair, his presence imposing, and as his words landed, the old witch instinctively shifted into an offensive stance, her body radiating a dangerous aura.
"But don't worry," Leylin continued, his tone softening into an easygoing, almost disarming smile, as if he were the epitome of benevolence. "I will not kill you. I have no desire to make an enemy of the 'Thousand Meddling Hands,' the dark Magi organization behind you. I am simply following orders. If you agree to my request, I won't take the risk myself."
His words painted him as a mere cog in a larger machine, a member of an organization whose higher-ups would shield him from repercussions so long as he stayed within the bounds of his orders.
To act beyond them would invite peril, a fact the old witch understood all too well. Her mind churned, silently cursing Leylin and his seven generations, but the sight of her daughter's suffering left her with no choice. With a pained, malevolent glare, she relented, tossing a collection of ancient scriptures, manuals, and recipe formulas toward him.
"This is all I have," she said, her voice calm but betraying the seething agitation in her heart. "Now let her go!"
Leylin deftly caught the items, his amber-hued eyes now transformed into those of a serpent scanning them briefly before turning to Jaye.
"Look into my eyes!" he commanded, his voice carrying a strange, hissing cadence, as though a snake itself were speaking.
The innate spell, Eye of Petrification, surged forth with an eerie power.
Jaye, caught in the spell's thrall, met his gaze with a bizarre expression.
*Creak! Creak!*
A greyish-white halo erupted from her eyes, spreading to envelop her entire body, transforming her into a lifeless sculpture in an instant.
The old witch's shock was palpable, her breath catching as the swift, decisive attack shattered her fragile hopes. She had known escape without sacrifice was unlikely, but Leylin's ruthless efficiency threw her off balance. Her eyes blazed with a fury she had never known, and she whirled toward him, ready to unleash her vengeance.
But before she could act, a pair of vertically slit amber eyes locked onto her, their magnificent and tyrannical presence freezing her in place. A fist moved toward her face, its motion deceptively slow yet impossibly fast, leaving her no time to react.
Bewilderment flickered through her mind how could such a blow defy perception? But there was no time to ponder.
*Puch!* The punch landed, and her head exploded like a watermelon, crimson cranial fluids splattering across the cold, unforgiving floor. Her headless corpse slumped to the ground, a lifeless husk.
"Bad move, old witch," Leylin said, his voice devoid of warmth. "You didn't give me the keys. Even if you had, I would have killed you, but still you didn't give me the key!"
He gazed at the bodies strewn across the floor, the metal snakes retracting into his ring, now bearing only three serpents where seven had once been.
"A mother trying all she can for her dying daughter," he mused, his tone flat, devoid of sentiment. "In any place on Earth, it's a heartwarming scene, one to be praised. Even in this world, it's a rare glimpse of emotion in some people. But sadly, this is a world that despises weakness, and your love was your weakness! With the scriptures and resources you gathered here, coupled with your years of accumulation, you could have easily become a Peak Rank 1 Magus—perhaps even a Rank 2 with some luck *Sigh*…"
His expression remained impassive, betraying no hint of remorse as he regarded the old witch's headless corpse. To him, her tragedy was irrelevant, a fleeting story in a world ruled by power.
"A.I. Chip, devour," he commanded, activating his soul-bound devourer powers.
[Beep! Rank 1 spiritual Magus devoured. Strength increased by 0.2, Agility by 0.3, Vitality by 0.6, Spiritual Force by 5.8.]
[Beep! Rank 1 Magus devoured. Strength increased by 2.2, Agility by 2.7, Vitality by 1.0, Spiritual Force by 8.7.]
[Beep! Leylin Farlier: Rank 1 Warlock. Bloodline: Giant Kemoyin Serpent. Summon—Black Horrall Snake, Dragon Crown Nighthawk. Strength: 28.5, Agility: 24.3, Vitality: 31.9, Spiritual Force: 92.0, Magical Power: 92. Elemental essence conversion: 92%. Status: Heart remodelling, progress: 72%]
Satisfied with the surge in his stats, Leylin turned his attention to the old witch's possessions. He had spared them earlier, knowing she had explored these ruins long before this expedition, reaping a bountiful harvest.
Now, her belongings were his—ancient scriptures, manuals, and a defensive mechanism crafted from the bones mountain. Most crucially, he found the key to the entrance.
With a calm, deliberate stride, he approached the towering black metal door. Upon contact, an icy chill seeped into his fingers, followed by a sudden wave of heat, as though the door pulsed with a life of its own.
Its sturdy surface exuded an aura of indestructibility, unyielding to time or force. At its center, a brass keyhole gleamed with an ethereal, bone-freezing energy.
Leylin withdrew an intricately curved yellow bronze key, its shape resembling a ladle yet perfectly suited to the keyhole.
"For one whole year, I have prepared for this moment," he said, his voice steady, a fire kindling in his eyes. "I have forcefully suppressed my advancement and devised dozens of contingency plans for you, Gargamel. For this fight, I have prepared all that I can. Now, it's showtime!"
A gale of spiritual force swirled around him, an unconscious release of his power that stirred the air. With a resolute motion, he inserted the bronze key into the lock.
*Clang! Dong!*
The sound echoed through the hall, a herald of the confrontation that awaited beyond the threshold, as Leylin stood ready to face the secrets and dangers that lay within.