119 Burnt fritters (2/2)

Lumia's eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she pondered what would expect Pseudonym now. Medusa was no ordinary warrior; she was the descendant of the Sect of the Worthy and cousin of Comodus. Comodus himself, or rather his father Aure, would seek justice soon enough. Pseudonym was strong, but Comodus wasn't weak either. He had already reached the Fifth Phase. Also, the Sect of the Worthy could boast many warriors even stronger than him. If nobody had sided with the champ, Pseudonym would have been executed.

Pseudonym turned towards a jaw-dropped Helial. His voice exuding hatred and despise, he said: ”There's no such thing as a non-valuable life. Today, Medusa wasn't the only one who lost her life. You're supported by a powerful faction that's willing to cover up your actions. And yet it was me who had to do something. I have no one. The consequences to what I've done will be soon wide known. The Sect won't let me go. Today is the day I die too, because you weren't willing to spare these simple lives.

As fate would have it we and those men step on different paths. We stand up high, amongst the strong. They stand down low, amongst the weak. But if the strong don't help the weak, then what expects our world? Do you still think you did right?” Pseudonym angrily shook his head. ”Bear in mind that when the living stop helping each other, drunk with power and egocentrism, then fate will triumph over free will,” Pseudonym roared with a hoarse voice. He threw his black swords before him and raised his hands in surrender.

Iblis smelled burning and slowly opened his eyes. The fritters were getting all burnt in the hot oil. Helial's entire Soul now smelled of burnt fritters.

He raised a hand to his chin and stroked an imaginary beard. ”These visions can get extremely interesting. I'll definitely refine the Skill mastering the space-time. I'm sure I received quite a few Epiphanies thanks to the Shithead's Runes.”

The Devil cast a glance outside Helial's Soul just in time to see Medusa pull a long dagger out of its sheath. Without too much caring, he dug out of the shelf the ingredients needed to prepare fritters all over again. Fritters took priority over any apocalyptic Skill whatsoever.

Then he stopped, leaned against the cooking surface and closed his eyes once again.

Pseudonym in chains.

Pseudonym deprived of his armor before the eyes of everyone. As a reprimand of what they were capable of, the Sect of the Worthy executed him.

Everybody was staring blankly at the greatest warrior in Orma as he fell. Helial felt a pang to the heart. He knew he could have done something, he knew he could have turned the tables for the invincible warrior. This would weigh down his heart forever. It would make an insurmountable obstacle on his Dao of Mana. This regret was doomed to stand in the way between him and his higher goals.

So perished Pseudonym, bastion of the talent of Orma's recent generations, unrivalled amongst his equals, but amongst the strongest as well.

”Well, I see why you chose this one, Jeanne…” Iblis mumbled as he withdrew his mind from these visions.

However, Iblis swore to Helial and to himself he would never interpose in behalf of the boy. By revealing such a significant detail - a dominant tile in his life -, Iblis would have bestowed Helial with endless benefits. He saw it fitting to shut up.

The lord of Destruction wouldn't make bad on his promise too easily.

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”I mean, who's ever gonna know it,” the Devil said to himself.

”Attack Medusa. Now,” Iblis told Helial as his eyes flew back to his recipes book.