Chapter 190 Please... Don't Die - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

As soon as the words of the Limb-Taker reached her ears, Tia froze in place. Her mind seemed to shut down at that moment. Although it was spoken in the common tongue of Saint Roland, and she understood every syllable, the combination of the words into a coherent sentence left her unprecedentedly confused. Wh-what was he talking about? That guy wasn't the Limb-Taker? In a daze, Tia lowered her head, looking at the black-haired boy lying in a pool of blood. The boy who had been talking to her not too long ago now lay on the ground like a cold, lifeless corpse, his body curled up as if, in the final second of consciousness, he was still feeling this world's cold and indifferent nature. His sapphire blue eyes, up until the moment of death, had remained fixed on her. Yet, due to the inexplicable emotions in her heart earlier and the mistaken dynamics between them, Tia had never truly gazed into the eyes of this boy before her. It wasn't that she didn't want to, but she didn't dare. She feared seeing a certain reproach in those eyes, a sentiment that would become chains binding her, tossing and turning with guilt through many sleepless nights. But now, Tia could no longer care about such things and looked down. The boy's eyes were as beautiful as sea-blue jewels, though they had grown somewhat dim. Yet the next moment, Tia was taken aback. She had thought the boy would be filled with immense resentment in his final moments. But the reality turned out to be completely unexpected. His eyes held no trace of resentment or hatred. On the contrary. Just as he had always been when interacting with her, they were filled with gentle acceptance. It was as if, until the last instant of leaving this world, the boy harbored no malice towards anything. His only regret, perhaps, was not being able to talk properly with her. Then Tia raised her head and glanced at the grotesque creature sprawled across the ceiling, a sense of absurdity and unreality sweeping over her. Yes. He looked so clean and good; how could he be associated with something as filthy and vile as a Limb-Taker? Why was I so certain he was the Limb-Taker? What had gone wrong in this world? Tia stood in place, dazed. Not until the Limb-Taker's words, "The only one who truly wanted to do something was killed because of your internal strife," entered her ears, did the fine balance of countless emotions in her mind collapse. That phrase, like the last straw breaking the camel's back, tore away her final layer of pretense brutal and mercilessly. It seemed to mock her stupidity and lament the boy before her. Not until this moment did a sharp, ripping agony envelop her heart, turning her pale face completely bloodless. The pain was so overwhelming, it nearly made her faint. They had known each other only briefly. Aside from quarrels and harm, she had given him nothing. And she already owed him so much. Why? Why had things turned out this way? "What have I done?" Tia instinctively closed her eyes, her voice a pained lament. Even if the boy had looked at her with hatred in his eyes in his dying moments, she felt she wouldn't be collapsing like this. But there wasn't any. At that moment, Tia clutched her chest's fabric tightly, like someone drowning, gasping for air, yet she couldn't suppress the sadness within her no matter how hard she tried. Such intense emotional feedback was rare in her short life. In fact, she had never experienced anything like it before. Perhaps due to her usual repression, faced with such a situation, the accumulated emotions surged out in a burst. Finally, Tia could no longer hold back the impulse within her, stumbling forward. The quiet saint who loved cleanliness seemed to vanish; even with her dress and knees smeared with dust and blood, she showed no awareness as she knelt beside the boy. Though it was too late, much too late, she still reached out desperately, pressing against the gruesome wound on his chest. At that moment, Tia's face was pale, performing useless actions. Next to her, Louise looked on with shock. "Tia, you would go to such lengths for a man..." Logically, blessed by the goddess, she should harbor a strong aversion towards any male. Yet seeing the normally composed saint disregard her clean dress, holding the boy's body helplessly, the scene struck her profoundly. It was as if a once-pure gem had been smeared with dust. Unaware of Louise's thoughts, Tia only focused on pressing his wound with trembling hands, trying to wake the unconscious boy. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault." "Please... don't die." Meanwhile, alongside the Limb-Taker's arrogant proclamation falling, people's eyes filled with undisguisable shock. At this moment, the entire abandoned factory was shrouded in a pitch-black curtain. The faint sounds from the outside world vanished without a trace, replaced by an unprecedented quietude. Quiet to the point of eeriness. Only the faint sound of nails scratching against the walls remained, sending chills down one's spine. Everyone seemed absorbed in the impact of the revelation, unable to recover for a long time. Instead, the Limb-Taker's demeanor remained leisurely unhurried, as if allowing them to digest the situation. He seemingly held considerable confidence. For this outcome was long within his expectations. After a prolonged silence, all eyes inevitably turned to Casimo. It was by his order from above that the assassination occurred. Yet, he seemed to have anticipated this, knowing that Lynn Barthleon was not the true Limb-Taker, and only furrowed his brows deeply, without much surprise. "The Tomb of the Deathly Silent?" Casimo glanced at the surrounding oppressive darkness, his expression grim. "Such a sealing artifact being deployed indicates your ambitions are far beyond merely ascending to the fifth-tier legend." Being stationed at the frontier fortress for a long time, Casimo was thoroughly familiar with the effects of this 0-level sealing artifact. Military legends had often suffered due to this artifact in the past, etching it firmly in his memory. What caught him off guard was this tier of sealing artifact appearing in the hands of a fourth-tier demon race extraordinary, deployed against them. Immediately, Casimo sensed the scent of conspiracy. The artifact’s effect was overly simple, existing not in tangible form. When the user summoned the Tomb of the Deathly Silent, the time flow within the barrier drastically slowed to a ratio of one hundred to one. However, its true effect was not simply a “Hyperbolic Time Chamber.” Every being within the barrier, apart from the user, was treated as a “living sacrifice,” subjected to continuous sacrifice to the power of the myriad demons. Moreover, within this space, most supernatural abilities were unusable, rendering beings below the fifth tier not much different from regular humans. The only way to dissolve the barrier was for all "living sacrifices" to be consumed, entering the "Deathly Silent" state. At that point, they would be transformed into shriveled, puppet-like corpses, retaining a sliver of consciousness yet perpetually controlled by the assailant. "You intend to force a breakthrough to the fifth-tier legend?" After a pause, Casimo took a deep breath. "But the Urban Myth link to the 'Limb-Taker' has already been transferred to Lynn Barthleon. Without the source of fear, you won't reach that rank unless..." "Unless my trial for ascension was never about 'gathering fear energy' at all." Perched on the ceiling, Ber Huluman cackled bizarrely. "This is exactly the arrogance of you humans, always steadfast in believing what you perceive as 'reality', viewing others as brainless fools." Upon hearing this, Casimo's brain buzzed as if it exploded. The Limb-Taker committed the series of murders to ascend to the fifth-tier legend. This had always been the intelligence provided by the military. However, now that the culprit himself denied it, the long-suppressed panic in Casimo’s heart finally surfaced. No wonder the range of victims wasn't limited to ordinary citizens. In fact, the ordinary folks were mere distractions, while the true targets were the formidable extraordinary individuals from various factions! Sensing the confusion and fear among the crowd, the Limb-Taker coldly stated, "Indeed, my true ascension trial was to collect one hundred strands of fear and despair from dying fourth-tier extraordinaries." "Thanks to that kid, I've been able to gather you 'living sacrifices' here." Lynn's act of holding the prince hostage in public had enraged Saint Roland VI, prompting generous rewards that incited these fourth-tier extraordinaires to unprecedented activity. Under normal circumstances, he would have had to pay a long and costly price to achieve this trial. But now, these guys were like sheep ready for slaughter, irresistible to his predatory desires. Perceiving the malice and homicidal intent emitted by the Limb-Taker, everyone unable to use their extraordinary abilities turned pale and fell into chaos. "Damn it, this is Glostine! Under the protection of the Three Gods and the Sacred Tree!" someone shouted in anger. "You're just a fourth-tier; even if you ascend to the fifth-tier, so what? You will still meet your end!" These words held truth. Although time had slowed to a crawl, this was a Level 0 sealing artifact tainted with the aura of the demon race. In a bustling city like Glostine, it would undoubtedly attract immediate assault from official forces and major churches. Simply being at the fifth-tier offered no chance of survival. Casimo couldn’t fathom why the Limb-Taker would meticulously plot just to become a footnote in humanity's war history post-ascension. From every angle, Ber Huluman seemed to have no escape route. Thus, a sense of hopeful reprieve lingered in everyone’s hearts, attempting to scare him off with the name of the Three Gods. Yet as time passed and they saw no fear nor retreat from the Limb-Taker’s face, their hearts began to sink. Ber Huluman sneered, "So what if I die?" "The conflict between our demon race and humans has always been irreconcilable. I’m surprised you pampered fools have forgotten this." "Not only do you lack resistance, but you even grovel for life from a mortal enemy, seeking mercy—a disgraceful display." As he finished speaking, several limbs on the Limb-Taker's body suddenly turned into grotesque shadows. In the next instant, accompanied by the sound of bones and muscles tearing, the extraordinary who had shouted angrily moments ago had his limbs snapped and fell to the ground howling like a mutilated pig. The crowd paled visibly. They watched as the Limb-Taker lifted the severed limbs before him. Uninterested, he eyed the mangled appendages disdainfully and spat, "Utterly hideous." Finding no value in the man’s limbs, Ber Huluman crushed them into a bloody pulp and discarded them. "Let me enlighten you," he said, slithering like a serpent across the ceiling. His voice ranged from distant to near, "Currently, at least six powers no less than five-tier legends are heading this way. But due to the peculiar nature of the Tomb of the Deathly Silent, by the time they arrive, I'll likely have already ascended to a fifth-tier legend." "At that point, the strength of this body will skyrocket, more than enough as a temporary vessel for Lord Kushustane's descent." At this, Ber Huluman’s mouth twisted into a sinister smile. "Short-lived peace ends here. After tonight, the war between our races will escalate to unprecedented heights." "Before that, you humans will forever remember this bloody yet beautiful night." With those words, the Limb-Taker suddenly erupted. His limbs unfurled like tentacles, sweeping across the room, sparking cries of despair and agony. Blood flowed forth like rivers, pooling and spreading. Flesh and appendages flew everywhere, as the whole old factory turned into a bloody execution ground, devolving into one-sided slaughter and massacre. Amidst this, some extraordinary beings frantically fleeing succumbed to despair. That legendary high-dimensional demon would descend here, initiating a massacre in Glostine? Was this a divine conflict? If so, how could mere humans like them survive? "Captain Sia! About five blocks from here, strong sealing artifact pulses are emitting from an old factory!" The soldier before him saluted sharply, reporting to the squad leader. As a fourth-tier extraordinary and a rising star of the military, Sia naturally participated in the hunt for Lynn Barthleon. Upon hearing this, Sia frowned, "Let the church handle it; we have other tasks." To Sia, Lynn was a detestable figure, and now, with a legitimate reason to sentence him, Sia wouldn’t let it slip by. He had a premonition. Once that guy was truly dead, the strange occurrences around him would dissipate. Such as the peculiar changes in Tia. While he didn't suspect her betrayal, any vague attachment to another man was intolerable. Fortunately, it was all coming to an end. Just as Sia responded like this to his subordinate, a powerful, unnerving sense of wrongness seized him. No! He must rush there immediately. Otherwise, something precious would be lost forever. Suddenly, Sia envisioned Tia’s delicate, graceful figure, pure as a goddess. Yet inexplicably, he felt an immense distance growing between them. It seemed she might leave him at any moment. “…No, I take it back," Sia said with a troubled expression. "We're moving out now to that old factory." Though unsure where this premonition stemmed from, he ultimately chose to trust it. Praying he wasn't too late.