Chapter 157: Arrogance



Luke struck Crackstone’s head with his fist. The hit was clean-right on his forehead. The telekinetic waves compressed around Luke’s fist were released as Crackstone’s head collided with the ground.

BOOM!

Luke’s fist crushed Crackstone’s head, driving it deeper into the earth as the telekinetic waves burst forth. The very air seemed to fracture at that point.

The ground cracked, creating a small crater at the impact site. The telekinetic waves generated a powerful gust that extinguished nearby flames and lifted large amounts of dust and dirt into the air.

Luke stared at Crackstone’s crushed head-partially obliterated. His brains were visible, and his face was no longer recognizable.

The plan B he and Wednesday had devised was simple: destroy the enemy’s brain. If they crushed Crackstone’s brain, he wouldn’t be able to move or fight back for a few minutes while he regenerated.

They would use that time to locate his black heart and destroy it.

As expected, Crackstone lay on the ground, his body twitching slightly. For the first time, he let go of his magical staff, though the demonic book remained clutched in his grip like a precious treasure.

Despite having superior speed and reflexes compared to Luke and Wednesday, as well as a vast arsenal of large-scale destructive attacks, Crackstone’s physical durability was not as remarkable as that of Atlas or other enemies Luke had faced.

But that weakness was compensated by his insane regeneration. Luke could already see Crackstone’s face beginning to heal, even the scattered fragments of his brain returning to their place. It was a grotesque and disgusting scene to witness.

Luke wouldn’t give him time to regenerate his brain and regain movement.

He assumed an attacking stance once more, slightly bending his legs and leaning his upper body forward. He drew his right fist back, covering it with his left hand.

The telekinetic waves began concentrating there again, creating an increasingly powerful vibration in the air. A translucent sphere formed around his fist.

‘Jan Ken, you bastard!’ Luke thought, as he struck Crackstone in the same spot with his fist.

BOOM!

Crackstone’s head, which was in the process of reconstructing itself, was crushed once again. The release of the telekinetic waves destroyed it even more effectively this time, as it was already damaged.

Wednesday arrived at the scene and stood beside Luke, holding her scythe of darkness in hand. Without wasting time, she began slicing through Crackstone’s demonic body. She needed to cut quickly to prevent it from regenerating before she could locate his black heart among his organs.

Luke had to strike Crackstone’s head once more, as the threat of true death caused him to regenerate at an accelerated rate. Finally, Wednesday found the cursed black heart.

Unlike that of a witch, it was located below the navel on the right side and was about the size of a ping-pong ball-very small.

Wednesday’s scythe transformed into a short knife, and she stabbed the tiny heart.

“Die, Crackstone,” Wednesday murmured coldly, driving the blade in with lethal precision. Crackstone’s body convulsed. Despite lacking a mouth, a chilling wail emerged from somewhere within him. The sound seemed to echo from the very depths of his corrupted soul. The skin began to blacken and crack, splitting into fractures that released wisps of gray ash. It was as if his body were crumbling from within, turning into dust that rose in spirals.

With each passing second, more of him disintegrated, until only a fragile silhouette of ash remained. Then, with a final, muffled sigh, the figure began to glow with fire that intensified until it engulfed every particle in flames.

‘Shit!’ Luke thought, activating Shambles on himself and Wednesday, who no longer had the energy to move due to her injuries and exhaustion.

In the blink of an eye, they both vanished, and a moment later, the ash figure exploded in a burst of sparks and burning dust, scattering like a rain of embers.

“Cough… cough… Damn it. Why can’t he just die in peace?” Luke grumbled as he created a gust of wind to disperse the ash. He was holding Wednesday in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worried. Neither of them was in good condition. The fight had been much more difficult than they had initially expected.

They had several injuries, mostly burns, but also bruises and cuts. Their clothes were in tatters, as were their faces, smeared with dirt and ash.

Wednesday was worse off, as her raven had been killed by Crackstone, which caused a negative reaction in her, given the raven’s connection to her.

“I’m fine…” Wednesday said with some difficulty, trying to stand up, only to cough up blood at that moment.

“Don’t push yourself,” Luke said, looking at her with concern.

“Where’s the book?” Wednesday asked, ignoring her condition.

Luke, with his domain extended, focused on where Crackstone had detonated. There lay the book. The fire-spitting magic staff (as Luke had called it) was destroyed, but the book remained in pristine condition.

Luke frowned as two presences intruded into his domain out of nowhere, as if they had been there all along. Worst of all, they were heading straight for the demonic book. “What’s wrong?” Wednesday asked, noticing Luke’s frown. That was never a good sign. “We’ve got company, and I doubt they’re here for a friendly chat,” Luke replied.

He watched as the intruders entered the crater where Crackstone had died. One of them grabbed the demonic book and began retreating rapidly, moving away from them.

Luke wanted to chase the damn thief, but he didn’t have the energy for it. Besides, the other figure was heading straight toward them.

Where did they come from? Luke and Wednesday wondered. They had been extremely cautious when entering Raven Island. They had even flown in camouflaged from Addams Manor-it seemed impossible for anyone to have discovered them.

What’s more, Luke hadn’t detected these two figures with his domain. But there were techniques that allowed individuals to remain unnoticed, even within his domain-like Wednesday’s camouflage, to some extent. His domain wasn’t infallible.

“If they stole the demonic book, it means they knew it was there. That can only mean one thing…” Wednesday said, standing up with Luke’s help.

“The Spellmans,” Luke said grimly.

Only they would know the demonic book had been collecting dust in Crackstone’s tomb.

Less than two minutes later, they saw a figure running toward them. It stopped about ten meters away. It was a short, stout middle-aged woman.

She had a broad, flabby face, a short neck, and bulging eyes. Her blonde hair barely reached her nape, cut short in a practical style.

She wore an elegant, muted pink suit and glittering rings on every finger of her hands.

“Dolores Spellman,” Luke remarked, stepping forward. He needed to get Wednesday out of

there.

“Oh, so you know my name,” said the woman in pink, her watery voice accompanied by a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She stared at Luke with chilling coldness and an

unmistakable murderous intent.

“Of course I know you. You’re Sebastian and Ingrid’s mother,” Luke said with a smile. “I’d recognize the mother of some old friends anywhere.”

Natasha had shown him a photo of Dolores. It hadn’t been difficult for her to acquire a picture

of Elliot Spellman’s wife.

Dolores’s icy gaze didn’t waver, but Luke’s words had clearly struck a nerve. Even so, she managed to control her anger, masking it behind a stoic facade.

“I never thought you’d go through the trouble of reviving Crackstone. What a stroke of luck for me. You’ve done me two favors,” Dolores said with a distasteful little laugh. The first favor was reviving Crackstone, killing him, and leaving her the demonic book on a silver platter. The second was delivering Luke to her in such a pitiful state. The battle with Crackstone had taken its toll on both Luke and Wednesday. He wouldn’t be able to escape, and killing him would be all the easier for her.

“Everyone will think you died heroically, taking down Crackstone-the arch-enemy of our community,” Dolores continued, her wide smile oozing mockery.

To Dolores, Luke and Wednesday had come to kill Crackstone to put an end to the grudge between the Addams family and Crackstone-Luke helping his girlfriend. She didn’t realize they were aware of the demonic book and that it was their true objective.

If she had known, she would have mocked them mercilessly for their arrogance in assuming the Spellmans wouldn’t have the place under surveillance. It was only logical to guard a site housing a demonic book.

Essentially, they had walked straight into this dangerous situation without considering such a likely possibility, and now both of them understood their mistake. They had been far too

arrogant.

‘If Elliot doesn’t have demonic powers, she probably doesn’t either… Her strength must be less than Crackstone’s. Maybe a step below, but still stronger than Atlas,’ Luke thought, pushing his brain to its limits in search of a way to survive.

He had never been in such a perilous situation before.

Wednesday, too, was racking her brain for a way to get out alive. As for killing Dolores, she

saw it as nearly impossible given their current condition.

“Why were you keeping Crackstone’s tomb under surveillance?” Luke asked, trying to buy time to recover some energy. He already knew the answer, but Dolores assumed they didn’t.

“That’s none of your concern,” Dolores replied with disdain.

Without another word, the short woman bent slightly, channeling all her strength into her

calves. In an instant, she launched herself toward Luke and Wednesday with blinding speed,

far beyond what even a typical outcast could achieve.

‘Green aura!’ Luke thought.

Before Dolores could reach them, Luke extended his hand toward Wednesday, who widened

her eyes in shock at his sudden action. She knew exactly what he was doing.

“Luke, don’t-“

Before she could finish her sentence, she vanished from the spot.

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