Chapter 127: Devil May Cry III (1/2)

While the players waged a bloody battle against the Lemures by the stairs, Angora reached the top floor of the tower thanks to Vela’s protection.

There, he found Cecil who only had half of his human form left.

“You’re finally here.” Cecil was not as weak as he was when he vomited blood out of sheer frustration, and was instead staring at Angora composedly as he arrived. “I knew you would come!”

Angora caught sight of his father’s figure at a corner with a gaping hole over his chest and showing no signs of life.

That was basically the same as being dead for the mortals of this world, but as a Player, Angora could see that there was just a fraction of HP left on his yellow HP bar—although it was slowly draining away.

Angora gave Vela a look. She nodded, and drew out a Health Potion (Coca-Cola) from her small bag and fed it to Horan.

Meanwhile, Cecil did not pay attention to whatever Angora’s retainer was doing as his gaze remained on Angora.

“I’ve said that I would take what belongs to me even if you wouldn’t give it to me.”

As he spoke, black flesh tumors and tentacles stretched out over Cecil’s body like a spiderweb of innards and veins, spreading over the room. He looked no different from a large beast on the hunt, gaping its maw and baring its frightening fangs.

Any normal person would probably have been frightened stiff in such a situation. Even Vela appeared as if a great foe was before her despite having challenged dungeons on multiple occasions, but Angora was merely looking at his brother with his usual gaze, even if Cecil had lost half his human form and most of his rationality.

“Why! Why are you still giving me that look?! You should be afraid now; you should be begging for mercy!”

Cecil’s composure as if he had more than enough power to destroy Angora faded right then, his voice once again cracking in madness.

“I only feel that you’re tragic,” Angora said slowly. “You’re hurt by your own delusions, ever bent on ruling over everything and ending up with your grotesque self now.”

“To tell the truth, I didn’t care how hostile you are towards me because I have never thought about having any exchange with you in the future.” Angora’s expression finally changed a little as his eyes conveyed anger. “Father had always valued you so much and sincerely watched over you—everything would have been yours, be it dukedom or land, so why would you hurt him?”

“Because he never gave me what truly mattered!” Cecil roared at him in turn. “Dukedom?! Land?! All those things are pocket change in the face of power! You know what I’m talking about, and it matters not even if you still play dumb now!”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Angora drew out the letters that Edward had stolen from Cecil’s room and flung them on the floor. “In his letters to Count Ainsworth, Father had mentioned ‘the treasure that God blessed me with’, I believe?”

“Yes, that’s it! But it’s too late now. It doesn’t even matter if you hide it, for I knew everything early on!” Cecil said cheekily.

“Do you really not know what the treasure refers to?” Angora asked then.