Its overall form resembled a horse, but the details made it anything but natural. Its front legs were shaped like the talons of a large raptor, powerful and curved for grasping. The hind legs looked as if they were wearing high-heeled shoes, oddly elegant yet predatory.

Its tail appeared to be a horse’s at first glance, but on closer inspection, it mimicked a human hairstyle—the kind called a ponytail, long strands of hair bound at the base and flowing outward. The muscles across its body were unnaturally defined, not the product of physical training, but more like the exaggerated bulk caused by heavy hormonal modification.

Its neck was unusually long and wrapped in bands of circular markings, reminiscent of ringed serpents. The face was humanlike, with slender upright ears jutting from the sides of its head.

The moment Kurapika felt the beast’s gaze land on him, a deep sense of dread stirred instinctively within his chest. But he was a seasoned Nen user. He had faced more than a few powerful abilities before, and after a brief moment of discomfort, he steadied his breath and calmed his mind.

Tserriednich studied him. “You’re clearly not the strongest in the Phantom Troupe, yet they sent you to face me? Is it because they think I’m weak? Or is there some personal reason you needed to confront me yourself?”

His tone remained steady, but there was a faint trace of curiosity. “Still, I’d like to know… why have you come to kill me? If you’d joined forces with the other princes, I’d expect some of their people to be present. You weren’t sent here on someone else’s orders, were you?”

Kurapika’s eyes turned scarlet. “Because you deserve to die.”

Tserriednich paused, noting the transformation in his eyes. Recognition flickered across his expression. “Scarlet eyes… They look just like the ones in my collection.”

He tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “Are there still others like you alive? I see. You’ve come for revenge. That explains things.”

Once the pieces fell into place, his demeanor relaxed. “So that’s what this is about. I remember now. The Kurta Clan, right? The reclusive people with the Scarlet Eyes, hidden away from the world for centuries.” He let out a breath, as if reflecting on an old memory. “They told me the entire clan had been wiped out. Looks like they got it wrong—someone survived.”

Kurapika’s glare sharpened. “And that doesn’t bother you? You feel no remorse at all? Do you even understand what you did—what you destroyed?”

Tserriednich gave a light shrug. “I exterminated a small, isolated tribe. Is that really such a crime? Are you expecting to see guilt in my eyes, hear some apology? Sorry to disappoint—I don’t see it that way.”

He paused for a moment, then added casually, “You lived quiet lives, cut off from the world. I turned that into something people would remember. From something simple… to something beautiful. Isn’t that better?”

Kurapika’s voice grew colder. “If it had been your people—your family—would you still think the same?”

Tserriednich let out a quiet laugh. “If you think you can, then try. Let’s see what my expression looks like then. To be honest, I’m a little curious myself.”

That flippant response only deepened Kurapika’s rage.

“Kurapika, there’s no point in talking to someone like this. Just kill him already!” Nobunaga’s voice rang out sharply from behind.

Kurapika hesitated only for a breath. Then he drew his twin batons and launched himself toward Tserriednich.

Tserriednich evaded, leaning against his massive Nen beast for support as he backed away, his eyes never leaving Kurapika. “So you’re one of the Kurta survivors. Then tell me—do you know who actually carried it out? I was just the client. I named my price—Scarlet Eyes. But do you know who gave me that information? Do you know who actually killed your people?”

He spoke cautiously. Tserriednich feared the Phantom Troupe. If it were anyone else, he would’ve dismissed them as a toy by now.

But on the Black Whale, there were two individuals feared even by monsters. One was Tserriednich himself. The other was Hisoka.

Their madness was different. Tserriednich’s cruelty was cold and calculated, rooted in profit and control. Hisoka’s was laced with chaos and an obsession with battle. Hisoka frequently threw himself into danger for the thrill, while Tserriednich preferred manipulation, bribery, and control—traits he shared with many of the other princes.

Outside his perversions, Tserriednich was an effective leader. It was precisely because he understood the scale of today’s threat that he didn’t plan to throw his own men into a direct confrontation with the Phantom Troupe. That would’ve been suicidal. Even in victory, he would’ve left himself vulnerable to every other prince waiting to exploit the aftermath. The Phantom Troupe’s power was overwhelming—enough to sway the outcome of the succession war. Perhaps even enough to influence the contest between the highest-ranking princes.

“But if that’s the case, is this even a proper succession war anymore?” Tserriednich’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The Phantom Troupe isn’t here on a prince’s behalf. This is a personal vendetta. Is this what Father intended to happen?”

The thought crossed his mind briefly—but it didn’t matter. Nasubi didn’t care. As long as no S-Class Nen users were directly involved, he allowed the rest to fight as they pleased.

Kurapika understood Tserriednich’s angle, but couldn’t ignore it. He already knew the latter half of the truth—that many people had been involved in the Kurta Clan’s extermination. People from Minpo, Kakin, Meteor City, members of the Phantom Troupe, and hired mercenaries. Kurapika didn’t hate all of them equally. Some were just assassins carrying out orders. Seeking revenge on them alone felt hollow.

What mattered was going after the ones who ordered it.

And more than anything, Kurapika wanted to know who had leaked the location of the Kurta Clan in the first place.

Tserriednich smirked. “The ones who carried it out were the Phantom Troupe. The people who killed your clan are the ones standing beside you now. And you still chose to join them. Do you think your clan would forgive that?”

“I was just a buyer.”

As he spoke, Tserriednich glanced at the rest of the Troupe, watching their reactions.

Kurapika scoffed. “I’ve known that for a long time.”

Those words didn’t shake him. If anything, they only sharpened his focus. His attacks grew even fiercer.

Tserriednich continued to fight using his Nen beast. Despite its grotesque bulk, it was unnaturally fast and capable of moves that defied logic.

Kurapika didn’t know its abilities and was forced to fight cautiously, heavily limited by the unknown. On top of that, without his Chain of Restraint, the chain tied to his middle finger, and the corresponding vow and restriction, his combat strength had noticeably diminished. The drop in power left him uneasy.

“There’s no choice left.”

“Emperor Time.”

His eyes flared red again, but not out of rage—he activated the transformation willingly. Entering Emperor Time meant a complete elevation across the board: his aura, speed, raw strength, and his ability to fully use all Nen categories surged dramatically.

And at that moment, Tserriednich finally began to feel real pressure.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep