Chapter 155: Interlude – Snake Hunt

Professor Bastion’s trembling eyes locked onto Senior Sophia. “You…”

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the artificial stigma engraved on his right chest flared with a dark-blue glow. He groaned. From that mark, grotesque veins, like twisted tree roots, bulged and spread across his skin. Then he collapsed to the ground.

Senior Sophia turned pale. “W-what? Wait! Wasn’t the Artificial Soul Stigmata supposed to be complete?”

Professor Bastion himself had claimed it was finished, albeit with the help of demon power.

I explained, “The Artificial Soul Stigmata isn’t the problem.”

I stepped toward him, pressing a hand over his chest where the Artificial Soul Stigmata was carved, focusing my senses. It was as I had thought.

She asked, “If it’s not a problem with the Artificial Soul Stigmata…”

“It’s the demon’s mana stone that was given to him. That’s the problem,” I explained.

The Artificial Soul Stigmata’s stability had only ever been temporary. Its very design guaranteed that side effects would eventually follow. Moreover, there was no way a demon would sincerely help complete the Artificial Soul Stigmata research. They had their own scheme in mind all along, using Professor Bastion as a foundation for something else.

Senior Sophia replied, “What do we do? Ah, wait, aren’t you acquainted with the Holy Empire’s Saintess? If we call her—”

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

I tightened my grip on the Artificial Soul Stigmata, summoning the Ashen Flame. If the demon had tampered with the Artificial Soul Stigmata, then all I had to do was just burn it out entirely.

Ashen Flame flared and devoured the Artificial Soul Stigmata etched into Professor Bastion’s chest.

“Ghhh! Ughh!”

I said, “Hold on. Endure it a little longer.”

In the end, the Artificial Soul Stigmata was nothing but an imitation, and it was not a true soul stigmata. Even if I couldn’t wield the Primordial Flame perfectly, erasing this fake soul stigmata wasn’t difficult.

The sound of flesh searing filled the air, gray smoke rising from the wound. Professor Bastion bit his lip until blood trickled down, enduring the agony, but not for long.

The pain was too much, causing him to writhe and scream. “Arghh! Stop! S-stop this!”

“Berald! Hold him down,” I said.

“R-right.”

Hesitantly, Berald rushed forward, pinning the professor’s thrashing body. I pressed my hand firmly against the Artificial Soul Stigmata again.

The professor’s shrieks tore through the forest. “Ghhhhh! Aaaaghhhhhh!”

For thirty seconds, the fire burned, consuming the Artificial Soul Stigmata completely until nothing remained. Then, Professor Bastion gasped for air, sweat pouring down his face.

His eyes, glazed with pain, turned to me. His voice shook. “You. Have you always… endured pain like this?”

I didn’t answer him. He was right. What he felt now wasn’t far from the agony I endured whenever I used Ignition or Blazing Fire.

“How could you possibly?” he asked.

“Because I’m used to it,” I flatly replied.

Professor Bastion’s gaze trembled faintly. It was the same expression Professor Baldwin had once worn, her eyes filled with pity, as though she were watching something irreparably broken.

I gave a bitter smile and stood. “You’ll need to rest until your body stabilizes.”

He slumped to the ground, nodding weakly. “I understand.”

Senior Sophia, who had been silently watching this, now fixed her trembling eyes on me. “You. What… exactly are you?”

Her reaction wasn’t surprising. She had watched me not only subdue Professor Bastion with ease but also burn away a soul stigmata, even if artificial; it was only natural she would demand answers.

After a moment of silence, I replied, “I’ll explain later.”

She just stared at me.

I turned to Berald. “Berald. Go with Senior Sophia and bring Iris here, will you?”

“You’re staying behind, Brother?” he asked.

“Yeah. I still have something to take care of.”

Berald nodded and left with Senior Sophia, leaving the two of us alone. The forest fell into a heavy, awkward silence.

I looked at the professor. “There’s something I want to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you hide your research on the Artificial Soul Stigmata from me?”

He knew I possessed the Blessing of Resurrection. If he had asked me, rather than the demons, to help test his research, it would have made far more sense. Even if the Artificial Soul Stigmata’s side effects killed me, I would have returned.

Professor Bastion let out a long sigh. “To say I never considered it… would be a lie.”

He then gave a weary smile and shook his head. “I simply couldn’t bear to watch another precious student die in front of me.”

Even if that student had the power to return from death.

A precious student, huh.

I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a faint smile. “Understood. Then I won’t press you further.”

I turned and strode into the forest.

Professor Bastion asked, “And where exactly are you going?”

Glancing in the direction Serpente had fled, I smirked. “Just going out for a little snake hunt.”

* * *

Serpente tore through the forest in a frantic sprint. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

Her lungs burned, breath ragged, and an icy terror spread down her spine. The image of those ashen flames flashed in her mind. What in the world is that thing?

That cadet was a monster that had crushed the so-called heir of the Great Sage as if he were handling a child. Of course, she knew Jayden Bastion’s renown came from his brilliance in magical theory and research, not direct combat. His actual battle prowess hardly matched the lofty title of the Great Sage’s heir.

But even so, there were limits. Jayden Bastion had left his mark in his field. Even if his combat strength wasn’t enough to justify that grand title, he was at least on par with a top-ranked hero.

Moreover, she had even used the Fragment of Corruption. The mana stone she had handed to Jayden was a shard that carried Mephisto’s power.

Yet, she had lost. And she did not just lose; she had been crushed, without so much as a token of resistance, that too at the hands of a mere cadet.

Serpente’s long tongue flicked nervously as her brows furrowed. “No. There’s no way that monster is just a cadet.”

What kind of cadet could wield power on par with an Archbishop? She had to report this to Lord Mephisto.

While she had heard the name Dale Han from Mephisto before, seeing the cadet in person, she realized he was far more dangerous than described, enough to become a serious obstacle to Mephisto’s entire plan. However, first, she needed to get out of here. Thankfully, no pursuer seemed to be on her trail.

Serpente quickened her pace, weaving through the thick undergrowth until she finally burst out of the forest. She ducked into an abandoned house on the outskirts of Valhalla City, one of the safehouses demons often used during infiltration missions.

I need to report to Lord Mephisto at once, she thought.

When she pressed her hand into the air, the space warped like shattered glass. From within the distorted gap, she pulled out a murky, black-gleaming crystal orb. It was the only means of contacting her master, the Archbishop of Depravity, Mephisto.

As she was about to channel her magic into it, a voice rang out from the shadows. “Well, well. Hiding in this rundown shack? Fitting, I suppose. Snakes do love their holes.”

Serpente’s head snapped around, eyes wide in shock. “When did you?”

At the entrance stood the gray-haired cadet, Dale Han, smirking at her with predatory amusement. He said, “What’s wrong? Did you really think you weren’t being tracked?”

Her gaze darted rapidly around. “You…”

With Dale blocking the entrance, the only escape was through the window.

“Stay still,” he said.

Ashen flames flared, bathing the dark room in ghostly light. Serpente swallowed hard, staring at the blazing fire. Through the Blessing of Whispers, she was skilled at subtle manipulation, bending others from the shadows. But in raw combat strength, she was weak, even among her fellow Bishop-class demons. Against a monster who could stand shoulder to shoulder with Archbishops, she stood no chance.

“W-what do you want?” she asked.

“Hmm. That’s something we can take our time figuring out.” Dale dragged two chairs over from the corner and gestured for her to sit. “Take a seat. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Serpente’s face drained of color as her body trembled. After a brief hesitation, she forced a sultry smile and whispered in a honeyed voice, “Why use words… when there are other ways we could communicate?”

Dale only chuckled and snapped his fingers. The small flame in his palm suddenly swelled, surging wildly as if ready to devour her whole. Serpente shrieked, stumbling back and falling on her rear as the searing heat licked at her skin, a pitiful sight for one who had once manipulated countless events from the shadows.

* * *

Well, her combat skills were pathetic even in my past life. Her infiltration abilities and the Blessing of Whispers made her a troublesome opponent, yes, but in terms of raw fighting power, she was far weaker than Bishop Harris, whom I had fought alongside Professor Baldwin in that border village.

“Try that little trick again, and it won’t stop at a warning,” I said.

Serpente shrank back and slowly took the chair. “F-fine.”

“Now then…”

I powered on my Hero Watch. I thought of recording it, just in case. The footage could come in handy one day, perhaps as leverage to threaten or provoke Mephisto. Of course, the odds of intimidation working on him were slim, but Serpente was one of his favored subordinates.

I switched the Hero Watch camera to recording mode and looked back at Serpente, now seated primly in her chair. “Alright then. First things first, look at the camera and state your name and age.”

“Yes.”

Huh. Something about this atmosphere feels a little off.

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