Chapter 577 - Finger (1/2)

Raynred's shrill cries bore into the soul of all those who heard them.

He wanted to claw at his throat, anything to get that foul blood out of his body, but without his arms, he had no ability to do so.

He wiggled against the earth, trying to use the dirt, gravel and concrete in place of his hands.

Blue veins surged through his body, crawling up his neck like grotesque worms wiggling beneath his skin.

BANG! BANG!

He bashed his head against the ground, his own face deforming even more even beneath the strain.

Aina picked her ax up from the ground, using the buildings as leverage to leap back up to Leonel who was still in the sky.

They both gazed down toward Raynred, but neither spoke a single word.

Leonel's teeth clenched hard. Even after Raynred accidentally pierced through his own throat with a sharp bit of rusted steel, he still didn't feel like it was enough.

He watched with a cold expression as Raynred bled himself dry, his convulsions and gurgling cries etching themselves into the memories of all those who heard them.

Just as his life was about to fade, Leonel reached out a hand, a strong surge of Soul Force tearing into Raynred's mind.

At that moment, shrieks only Leonel could hear resounded. Even in the last minutes before his death, Raynred experienced pain the likes of which he never thought possible.

All of his pride and haughtiness had long since vanished. If he could have, he would have begged and pleaded.

Leonel closed his eyes, watching the final moments of those he once thought of as friends, knowing they wouldn't be coming back.

'Pisces.'

Leonel's heart trembled. He wanted to see blood.

**

Hutch's body floated face first in the waters, three corpses pooling around him.

He struggled up, but his body was simply layered with too many injuries. Under the suppression, the pain he had experienced at the hands of these three was unimaginable. But, even then he managed to take one of them down even before the Puppet Master relinquished his control.

After Leonel succeeded in drawing that bastard out, the battle should have been easy. But, by then, the old man had already suffered too many injuries. He had no choice but to go all out near the end to eventually squeeze out a victory.

That final effort left him without anything left. He could hardly keep hold of his machete or even flip himself face up, let alone stand.

The old man flipped over eventually, his wounds spurting with blood. He didn't have the courage to look around, but he was sure that the death count wasn't small. Unfortunately, this battlefield didn't gain the support of The Empire like The Capital had.

'I'll just... take a nap...'

If the old man was honest with himself, he really wasn't sure if he'd wake up from this one.

”Grandfather.”

”Mm.”