[You have failed to devour the residual Origin of Huberto Watson using Soul-Devouring Magic. Evaluation: Your Magic level is insufficient, oh you of Orpheus. A laughable filter of authorit... Special Reward: Survival Points +100, Soul-Devouring Magic EXP +1.]
’It failed again?!’
Wei’en frantically pulled out several more bottles of Healing Potion and poured them onto the wound. "Clelia, do you have any other way?!"
"Hkk... hkk..." Clelia shook her head weakly at him, blood constantly spilling from the corners of her mouth. "My... O-Origin... is shattered..."
A desperate look crossed Wei’en’s face. "Aren’t you the best at staying alive? What about your puppets? And that substitute necklace you used before?"
"They’re... they’re gone..." Clelia forced a smile onto her pale face, struggling to raise a hand to touch his cheek. "S-sorry, Wei’en... I can only... accompany you... this far..."
"Damn it! What nonsense are you talking about!"
’It wasn’t supposed to be like this. That Judgment Knight came for him. Clelia shouldn’t have been the one to suffer!’
’It shouldn’t have ended this way—’
"You... have to be... c-careful..."
Clelia struggled to force out the few words. Her eyes, once bewitching and bright, gazed at Wei’en, revealing a complex mix of emotions: tenderness, sorrow, reluctance to leave...
THUMP.
Clelia’s arm slowly slid down, leaving several crimson streaks of blood on Wei’en’s face. The light in her eyes gradually faded, leaving them staring, blank and empty, at his face.
[Devourable Origin detected. Use Soul-Devouring Magic?]
’She’s dead?’
"Really dead? Don’t joke with me."
Wei’en stared blankly at Clelia, muttering, "How is this possible? How could this happen? You’re Thousand Faces... Thousand Faces of the Eternal Life Association..."
’How could she be killed so easily?!’
Even though the panel prompted that there was devourable Origin Power, Wei’en still refused to believe it.
’Based on what he knew of Clelia, this shouldn’t have happened. She had survived such severe injuries several times before, and she had even encountered that Judgment Knight last time.’
He waited for a few seconds, but Clelia remained utterly still.
The light gradually returned to Wei’en’s eyes, but his face remained expressionless, his gaze even colder than before.
’She’s dead. Then I’ll resurrect her—I still have the Casket of Revival!’
’Before that, he needed to confirm if there was enough high-quality Origin Power outside!’
Wei’en reached out and closed Clelia’s eyes, wiped the blood from the corners of her mouth, and took off his coat to cover her body. He recalled their journey together: from their first meeting in the Laos District, to the subsequent pursuits and their pact, and then their departure from the Caster City State...
"How I wish this was just a joke you were playing..."
Then he got up, left the workshop, and walked up to a sealed iron door nearby. He passed straight through it.
[You have come into contact with "Forbidden Item 2-77, Karel’s Whisper." Your trajectory of fate has slightly changed. Current encounter progress: 15/100. Evaluation: Tsk, tsk, tsk, are you preparing to risk it all? Don’t you dare die, or else... Special Reward: Survival Points +10, Origin +1.]
Wei’en gently picked up the exquisite harmonica from the wooden shelf, took out the Golden Key, turned it once, and slowly vanished from the room.
’Dawn Church, Judgment Knight, here I come!’
"Hkk... cough, cough... damn it..."
At this moment, Ronan’s eyes were a mangled mess of flesh and blood. Even though he hadn’t been completely engulfed by the light of the Dawn, his eyes were still seared and melted by its dazzling brilliance.
’Who was it? Who the hell was it?!’
Ronan struggled out of the cockpit, his ears filled with the wails of his familiar subordinates.
He knew that the gunners who had been on the gun platforms, ready to fire, had all been blinded just like him.
"Second Officer, I... I can’t see!"
"Damn that Dawn Church!"
"..."
Ronan ignored them, fumbling his way toward the bedroom in the back. "Captain, Captain, if you don’t show yourself soon, the whole ship will be destroyed!"
CREAK.
The door opened.
The sound of crisp footsteps reached his ears. Ronan realized who had arrived and fell to his knees, two streams of bloody tears flowing from his eyes. "Red-haired Captain!!"
Wei’en held the harmonica in one hand and a sniper rifle in the other. He saw Ronan’s severely injured, triangular eyes, the wailing pirates, and the Queen’s Guard who were still training, hidden in the ship’s hold.
’Quite a few died...’
Then, he swept his Spirit perception outwards, and a clear image of the surroundings appeared in his mind.
’Ten kilometers away?’
’There’s still time!’
Hearing his voice, Ronan seemed to have found his pillar of support. He whimpered, "Captain, it was the Dawn Church, they... sob..."
"I already know. Don’t talk for now. I’ll take you to a safe place."
Wei’en then took out several bottles of Healing Potion, had the pirates drink them one by one, and teleported them to the ship’s hold.
"Ah!"
The neatly dressed members of the Queen’s Guard cried out in surprise when they saw them suddenly appear.
"Who’s there?"
"Captain?"
Seeing the red-haired man who had suddenly appeared before them, and the strange firearm in his hand, Vian signaled for quiet. "Lord Captain, what brings you here?"
Wei’en glanced at her and gave a cold command, "Hold hands!"
"I..."
"Shut up and do as I say!"
Vian froze for a moment, then raised her hand and gestured to the others.
Everyone joined hands. Wei’en placed his hand on Ronan’s shoulder and sent them into a theater space. He pointed to a room he had previously created and said, "Stay in there and don’t move. Do not touch anything... or you will die!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Ronan quickly led the remaining pirates into the room.
Beside them, Vian hesitated for a moment before giving Wei’en a standard Queen’s Guard salute. "As you command!"
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