586 Gnawing

586 Gnawing

Ultraman Lato Guiaro, his life rapidly slipping away, fell into a daze. Even his thoughts of self-preservation became blurred.

In the haze, he vaguely saw Juan Oro, the wrinkled old man, standing in the middle of the sea, waving with a mix of joy and mockery.

At that moment, Lumian’s voice resonated from the horizon, faint, ethereal, and elusive.

“Did you go to Cordu Village to confirm the situation?”

Cordu Village? The time Mad Lady and I visited Nolfi, and went there just out of convenience? Lato Guiaro lost focus, and Lumian’s figure reflected in his closed eye.

With the intent to annoy, he spoke his last words in Highlander.

“I’ve been there… with Mad Lady. It was… simply for fun… but Loki… seemed to… have ulterior…”

Don’t you want to know what happened back then? Sure, I’ll speak in Highlander. It’s your problem if you don’t understand. Your fault for not taking this language seriously in the past!

Lato Guiaro knew his actions wouldn’t practically affect Lumian Lee. This was because Lumian Lee could find someone to perform dream divination, hypnosis, or undergo a real dream when he returned. From there, he could memorize the Highlander he spoke and find a way to translate it into Intisian or ancient Feysac.

Still, he just wanted to annoy the other party. About to die, he couldn’t care less about future developments.

“Motives…” Lato Guiaro uttered his last word as his life extinguished.

In that final moment, he seemed to hear Lumian Lee speaking to him in Highlander, “Thank you.”

The “thank you” flowed naturally, carrying a strong sense of mockery.

Ultraman Lato Guiaro’s intact eye bulged even more, his expression freezing on his face, his breath coming to a complete halt.

Lumian’s right hand gripped the Symphony of Hatred once more. Simultaneously, he released his left hand, watching Ultraman’s key member’s head rapidly detach from the black bone flute with red holes, revealing a sinister and deep blood-red hole.

Thud!

Ultraman collapsed to the ground. The sticky blood on the black bone flute coalesced and dripped onto his body.

After the person who had backstabbed it suffered a fatal wound, Pride Armor stopped moving and stood nearby, resembling an ordinary silver-white full-

body armor without any special characteristics.

Loki had ulterior motives? A motive other than helping the Sinners and pulling a prank? As Lumian recalled Ultraman’s confession before his death, he bent down to check what items this April Fool’s key member had.

Of course, he didn’t hold much hope. Ultraman Lato Guiaro had disguised himself as the incoming Governor of the Sea, Simon Guiaro, to board the betrothal ship. Carrying no items, his belongings should have been handed over to Mad Lady, allowing her to conceal them using flesh and blood magic in his stomach. However, Mad Lady clearly didn’t have the time or opportunity to return the items to Ultraman.

This was one of the reasons why Lumian could eliminate Ultraman, a powerful dual pathway Beyonder, in such a short period.

If Juan Oro hadn’t tipped off the sea spawn on the bridal boat beforehand, Lumian would’ve been forced to stash his Traveler’s Bag temporarily with Mr. K.

At that moment, Lumian observed a strange transformation in the corpse of Ultraman Lato Guiaro.

It swiftly faded, morphing into a semi-translucent, semi-flesh state. Then, like it was being disintegrated by countless tiny creatures, it oozed into the silver metal floor and gradually vanished.

Soon, the remnants of flesh, starlight, and sun-like fragments left by Lato Guiaro were absorbed by the silver metallic floor, leaving behind only a Sea Governor ceremonial robe, shrouded in a faint grayish-white fog.

In the blink of an eye, the grayish-white fog got absorbed by the silver metallic floor and the mysterious structure.

Lumian attempted unsuccessfully to “reclaim” something.

Is this what it means to return to the sea? But why did this peculiar structure absorb the Priest of Light’s Beyonder characteristic? Just as Lumian pondered, the sound of metal grinding surrounded him.

The pitch-black holes in the surrounding walls, ceiling, and floor once again got concealed by rotating, protruding metal. No more cerulean-blue poisonous gas spewed out, saving Lumian the energy to engulf his body in a layer of crimson, almost white flames.

Amidst the clanking sounds, two metallic doors ascended, revealing two tunnels leading to different destinations.

With the target of the betrayal now gone, the silver-gray behemoth reverted to its “normal” state.

Lumian peered into the depths of the tunnel ahead, his heart involuntarily racing.

Badump! Badump! He felt inexplicably nervous and uneasy.

…

In Port Santa, the apartment Loki was hiding.

The moment Ludwig declared, “I’m hungry,” he swiftly bowed his head and sank his teeth into Loki’s hand, gripping the gemstone bracelet as if devouring the marrow from a chicken wing.

An intense wave of pain surged through Loki’s mind. His immediate instinct was to deploy Paper Figurine Substitutes, a desperate attempt to break free from the current situation.

Yet, he hesitated, fearing that such a move might create an insurmountable distance between him and the sealed demigod, eliminating any chance of regaining control.

Amidst the gruesome symphony of bones crunching and flesh tearing, Loki snatched the falling gemstone bracelet with his free hand and forcibly pried open his mouth.

Bang!

A rush of air slammed into Ludwig’s head, akin to a bullet fired from the latest steam rifle, ripping through flesh and hair to reveal a ghastly white skull.

However, Ludwig remained unfazed. Gnawing on Loki’s left hand, he had already severed five fingers and devoured half of the palm.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Air Bullets relentlessly pounded the boy, leaving him mangled and disfigured. Yet, Ludwig persisted in his attentive nibbling on Loki.

Crack, crack.

He had already crunched down on the other party’s wrist bone, a crisp sound echoing through their intertwined flesh.

As Loki nearly blacked out from the pain, he roughly grasped what was happening.

The sealed demigod possessed incredible vitality. Ordinary attacks and Beyonder powers couldn’t cause significant harm. In simpler terms, he could put him to sleep or manipulate his Spirit Body Threads to knock him out, but killing him with regular means proved challenging. It couldn’t even seriously injure him.

In such circumstances, even if the sealed demigod couldn’t utilize any abilities, lacking sufficient strength and speed, merely devouring the other party’s flesh and bones with all his might posed an abnormal challenge for many Mid-Sequence Beyonders.

Loki abandoned the idea of retrieving other mystical items and substituted himself with a paper figurine.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Ludwig, his head covered in signs of Air Bullet destruction and almost devoid of human form, raised his head. Beside his bloodstained mouth was a piece of white paper that quickly swept into his mouth alongside the blood-colored flesh.

Ludwig’s eyes reflected Loki’s outline in the corner of the room. Something beneath his torn skin and flesh seemed to squirm slowly, attempting to break free, but to no avail.

Loki assessed the situation and the items on him. With the Soul Assurer marionette unable to return in time, he sensibly chose not to confront the sealed demigod creature. He would flee first before considering the future.

At that moment, a crimson moonlight streamed through the window.

The moonlight bathed the apartment, wrapping around Loki.

Loki heard a fleeting voice.

“A strong smell of blood…”

As the moonlight faded, a grayish-white and pitch-black paper figurine appeared on the ground.

Loki’s figure materialized a few hundred meters away, outside a vine forest.

It was a boon bestowed by the Celestial Worthy during a prayer some weeks before this operation. It had been attached to a pre-prepared paper figurine, forming such a potent substitute that bordered on godhood.

Drip, drip. Blood still dripped from Loki’s bitten left wrist.

He activated the diamond on the bracelet and swiftly faded away, preparing to teleport.

…

Port Santa, Milo Village.

Tap, tap, tap.

The soft patter of footsteps reverberated in Bard’s ears, causing him to tense.

Bard surveyed his surroundings, finding nothing amiss.

He sprinted, weaving through several buildings, yet the rhythmic tapping of footsteps persisted behind him.

Attempting to force open a door and seek refuge in a villager’s house in Milo Village,

Bard was met with an unexpected sight. Instead of the familiar kitchen, tables, chairs, and household items, his eyes beheld a decrepit stone platform enveloped in darkness.

The stone platform! Bard’s pupils widened, as if he had entered an unreal illusion.

He found himself back at the residence of the Governor of the Sea and the altar where Milo Village’s inhabitants paid homage to their ancestor.

Something crawled out from a crack in the worn stone platform.

A translucent worm, adorned with multiple rings, swiftly expanded, transforming into a young man donned in the attire of a sea prayer ritual’s deputy host, monocle in place.

Seated on the weathered stone platform, the man grinned at Bard.

“Do you comprehend?”

Bard suddenly grasped the meaning behind the question. Swallowing hard, he replied, “Understood.”

Since the altar had an owner and Beyonder creatures residing there, the so-

called rule that it could only be enchanted once a year for the Ring of the Sea Queen clearly didn’t hold true!

The other party could affix the power as many times as desired!

The young man, clad in a dark-blue deputy host’s sacrificial robe, toyed with the monocle in his right eye and smirked.

“Over a millennium, I’ve molded the rule that the Steal ability can only be conferred once a year. Little did I expect to deceive you all in the end.”