Chapter 191 Heroes always appear at critical moments - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Monster! Monster!!! This was the only thought in the minds of all the superhumans present. Besides fleeing, they couldn’t muster any other thought. However, even with this singular focus on escape, they, now reduced to mere mortals, stood no chance against the full force of a fourth-tier superhuman's onslaught. Many with weaker mental fortitude even fainted, yet still couldn't escape the clutches of the Limb Taker. In the pitch-black abandoned factory, the relentless sounds of slaughter and screams were unceasing. Due to the barrier within the Tomb of the Silent Ones, using supernatural powers would accelerate their transformation into puppets of the dead; thus, most were unable to harness their abilities. Death at the hands of the Limb Taker was less terrifying to them than becoming a dried corpse, a mere tool at the disposal of the demon race. At this moment, the Limb Taker's form blurred as he darted from every direction. Each time he paused, a heart-wrenching scream erupted from the fleeing superhumans, followed by a spray of blood, and they were sent plummeting from the sky, transformed into twisted abominations. As for the severed limbs, Berl Shuman wasted nothing, sewing every useful piece onto himself. Despair gripped everyone's hearts deeply. Trapped within the barrier of a Level 0 sealed item, they had no means of escape. Furthermore, the difference in the flow of time inside and outside the Tomb of the Silent Ones extinguished any hope of waiting for reinforcements. Inside, two minutes passed for every second that ticked by outside. Harboring any hope would be the most foolish move. "Kekeke!!!" Berl Shuman cackled darkly, manipulating the many limbs stitched to him, crudely and bloodily choosing a target for his ritual. "What a delightful wailing! A flawless symphony for my ascension!" To the gods, a superhuman's power of faith far outstripped that of ordinary believers. For Berl Shuman, it was the same. To ascend to the Legendary fifth-tier, he needed to absorb the fear and despair from one hundred fourth-tier elites. This ascension trial was challenging but promised greater power and more divine essence as a fifth-tier than a typical Legend. Yet none could fathom it. Such a promising superhuman was merely a disposable tool meant to be discarded after use by the demonic faction. Berl Shuman himself was prepared for this fate. Becoming fifth-tier was not about the power but elevating this flesh vessel to facilitate the most formidable arrival of the Tyrant of Cruelty in Glostine. The malignancy and treachery of the demon race were far beyond human imagination. However, none of this occupied the minds of those present. Casimo’s face was set with grim determination as he dodged a stabbing limb, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Never did he expect things to spiral to this extent. Although he doubted Kusustan could truly manage a successful arrival, believing the most likely outcome was being slain by the multitude of warriors the moment the Tomb of the Silent Ones' effects ended. Yet this was applicable solely to the exterior. For him and all those ensnared within the barrier, it was an unsolvable deadlock. Neither time nor circumstance favored them. The only fate was either becoming part of the Limb Taker or being reduced to a puppet. But he wasn't ready to die just yet. Suddenly, Berl Shuman let out a sharp scream, coated head-to-toe in blood and body fragments. A surge of unparalleled malevolence swelled, causing the limbs stitched to his body to sway gently, akin to seaweed, in an eerie and revolting dance. The sight left Casimo dizzy, his forehead's sweat even more pronounced. At that moment, having devoured more than ten fourth-tier elites, Berl Shuman's aura surged to an unprecedented level. The sheer force of his malevolence could paralyze legs with terror. He had become even more formidable! Casimo's internal alarm bells rang violently. Almost all human superhumans present were new to the fourth tier; even the seasoned ones were far from reaching the Legendary fifth tier. So, even if they could employ their supernatural abilities now, the odds against Berl Shuman remained grim. As an almost tangible black smoke oozed from him, embodying the demonic power of divine essence, the official superhumans who had perished on the ground suddenly had their skeletal remains cracking, rising once more like walking corpses. Their eyes glowed a ghostly green, all turning their gaze towards the few surviving superhumans. "Just eleven more, and my ascension trial will be complete." Berl Shuman muttered inaudibly with malice. No, self-rescue was imperative. Gripping his jaw, Casimo resolved inwardly. The entire battlefield had turned into a one-sided massacre, with chaos rampant and his military subordinates either scattered or dead, incorporated into Berl Shuman or lost. Fortunately, not far off, Casimo spotted the captain of the Executors. Discovered by them the earliest, it was by Lynn's machinations that chaos erupted, leaving the captain wounded and passing out on the scene. Nuns of the Silent Church had barely revived him when yet another catastrophe struck before they could evacuate. It was the epitome of bad luck. However, Casimo had fixed his attention on him for reasons beyond misfortune. Many present were placeholders, occupying their roles due to connections or noble bloodlines, acquiring superficial prestige—an ordinary scenario. These individuals' poor discipline and mental fortitude, coupled with their presence, triggered the current pandemonium. Replacing all the aristocratic offspring here with military or Executor members wouldn't guarantee victory, but at least formations wouldn't falter, allowing for a counterattack or two. But requiring such stoic consistency now was a distant dream. Therefore, Casimo chose not to pin his survival hopes on these fools, opting instead to seek out meaningful alliances. "Do you carry any sealed artifacts?" Amidst the chaos, Casimo dodged attacks from all directions, closing in on the Executors’ captain. "Scales of Judgment," the captain replied curtly, presenting a small golden scale. "With supernatural powers mostly unavailable, I have just one opportunity left to use it." "That's enough," a flicker of hope shone in Casimo’s eyes. "As far as I know, the Tomb of the Silent Ones only affects living entities. If a sealed artifact lacks life properties, it might avoid constraints." With those words, he slowly drew the dagger that had killed Lynn from his waist. At that moment, the blade's dark surface began to show a molten, dark gold sheen, emanating a sharp and fierce aura. It was likewise a formidable sealed artifact. With Casimo's physique forged by the military, breaking through the innumerable limbs to strike Berl Shuman was feasible, if barely. The Executors’ captain inhaled deeply. At this juncture, further strategic discourse was a luxury they couldn't afford, with everyone's lives hanging by the thread these two held. The chance was brief and singular. It was during the impending instant Berl Shuman was to kill the ninety-ninth fourth-tier superhuman, nearing his Legendary fifth-tier ascension. In that instant, his power and vigilance would falter greatly. Should they fail, the fate awaiting everyone was all too clear. "Ninety-fifth!" With Berl Shuman's maniacal laughter, another despairing superhuman screamed as they were dismembered, shredded to a pulp, turning into a scarlet energy, drawn into his nostrils. An already overwhelming aura grew stronger still. "Ninety-six!" Bones splintered, flesh scattered. "Ninety-seven!!" "Ah!!!" "Ninety-eight!!!" With each number that escaped Berl Shuman's lips, the crowd's despair deepened. The call sounded like a death knell, heralding the imminent end of their lives. Finally. "Ninety. Nine!!!!" Another surge of despairing energy absorbed into Berl Shuman's form. At this moment, he was entirely enveloped in a scarlet bloodlight, alongside layers of blood and fragmented bodies, creating a sight that was horrifyingly grotesque. The supernatural power that had been confined to the fourth tier was finally transforming under the influence of so many sacrifices! It was the final step towards legendhood. Only one more sacrifice was needed for a successful ascension. Witnessing this, Casimo discreetly exchanged a glance with the captain of the Executors. Now was the time! In the next instant, as five blood-drenched fingers dropped onto the scales, the captain of the Executors squad clenched his brow, enduring the pain. This wasn't the handiwork of the Limb Taker. Instead, he had severed his own fingers as the price to be paid. Given Berl Shuman’s immense strength, merely offering coins wouldn't suffice to activate the Judgment Scales. "I request judgment: in exchange for five fingers, temporarily strip 'Berl Shuman, the Limb Taker' of his mobility." In a flash, golden light burst forth, and the familiar scale mark appeared above Berl Shuman's head, extracting something intangible. It worked! Seeing this, the captain of the Executors, biting back the pain, shouted loudly, "The Judgment Scales can only suppress him for three seconds! Now! Strike!!!" Yet, even before his words finished, Casimo, having been on the sidelines, sprang into action. In the blink of an eye, he became a blur, rapidly closing in on the frozen Limb Taker. The dagger in his hand glowed with a molten hue. Fixating on Berl Shuman, immobilized and wrapped in golden light, Casimo raised his dagger high, aiming for the heart with all his force! Let it end!!! He shouted inwardly. Thinking of the rewards and honors awaiting upon killing the Limb Taker, perhaps even taking Sia's place within the military, Casimo's heart blazed with ambition. After all, fortune favors the bold, and he was a man who dared to gamble. Unfortunately. This time, he might have gambled wrong. At less than half a meter from the Limb Taker, the dagger's tip almost touching the monster’s chest, Casimo sensed something amiss. Involuntarily, Casimo looked up. There, Berl Shuman, who seemed immobilized, had somehow opened his gaping maw, revealing rows of sharp teeth with a chilling grin. Clearly, he should have been restrained by the Judgment Scales. Could it be... "So, what price must be paid for you humans to abandon your baseless arrogance and confidence?" “You—” Before Casimo could complete his thought, he felt engulfed by layers of limbs, enveloping him whole. An excruciating pain cascaded over his body. Watching as his body was methodically dismantled into countless pieces, he could only scream and wail. "The numbers before were just toying with you." As a demon, Berl Shuman excelled in manipulating human emotions. Before finally tearing the hopeless Casimo to shreds, he leaned in close to his ear and said with a mischievous chuckle, "Actually, I completed the ascension ritual several minutes ago." In the next moment, a potent aura almost capable of devouring the entire space, replete with boundless malevolence, enveloped the entire area. A new fifth-tier Legend had emerged. Life is indeed fragile. Moments ago, a person was speaking, and now, they were worlds apart between life and death. It was a somber realization for Tia, cradling the once warm now cold, stiff body of the young man. In just over ten minutes, having experienced such extreme emotional upheaval, she now found herself in an unprecedented numbness, or perhaps, a state of inner death. It wasn’t out of love or a trivial reason. Since there was never that kind of relationship, and Tia herself had never pondered such things. The situation arose purely due to her nature. As the Saintess of Silence, her compassion and moral standards far exceeded those of ordinary folk. This was not merely expected of herself but also those around her. This meant the guilt and remorse she felt for her mistakes were far above that of an average person. Even if no one would punish or even blame her, Tia couldn’t cross the chasm of her own conscience. Conscience would constantly torment her, barring the path to happiness. And if this was true for small errors, how much more so for matters of life and death? In Tia's eyes, life was the most precious thing in the world. Purely because each person has but one. Because of this, Lynn’s death affected her so profoundly. If only he had been the murderer, it would have been simpler. But he wasn’t. In fact, he had endured societal ridicule, journeying alone to avenge others like a lonely pilgrim. Finally capturing the murderer, yet being branded the villain by her group. Ultimately, he perished amidst the sordid schemes of the nobles. And from beginning to end, she did nothing but watch him die... or perhaps she did act. For instance, compelling him to remain still, allowing Casimo's dagger an unimpeded path to his heart. From this perspective, she was complicit in his murder. This was indisputable. Of course. The crucial point was that even now, Tia was uncertain about the truth of the twelve years of memory Lynn mentioned. Although she frequently convinced herself it was a lie, inside, she harbored her doubts. What if he hadn’t lied? Perhaps in the past twelve years, they really had a past, maybe even romance. If so, and betrayed by a once-loved woman, how desperate must he have felt leaving this world? Tia, with her profound empathy, couldn’t bear to consider this possibility. Delving deeply might cause her worldview to collapse. I am truly a most despicable woman. Tia gently brushed aside the hair on the young boy's forehead, striving to etch his image into her memory one last time. "I must atone," she softly murmured. Not for show. Simply to give the boy an explanation. With this resolve, despite her bloodstained hands, Tia gently cradled the youth's body, offering it to the cautious nun, Louise. The Silent Church's members were distanced and temporarily shielded by the sealed artifact, thus Berl Shuman only cast sinister glances their way without making any moves. However, having just ascended to the fifth tier, the artifact's protection soon waned. It wouldn’t be long before the massacre extended towards the members of the Silent Church. Tia was determined not to linger. As the squad captain, she was responsible for her team’s safety. Besides, he had been unjustly vilified, subjected to scorn and derision, wronged and gone. This had to end, his body should not become another trophy for the Limb Taker. Given that life had ended too late to change anything, this final act was within her reach. She would ensure Lynn's body left this bloody slaughterhouse intact to receive a dignified burial. Even if it meant sacrificing her own life. With this thought, Tia took a deep breath, "Though the Limb Taker has ascended to the fifth tier, it's not yet beyond repair." "When the Tyrant of Cruelty attempts to descend within him, I will create an opportunity for you by opening a breach in the Tomb of the Silent Ones." "The duration won't be long, so seize the chance and take him away, seek the church's aid outside." Her voice was cold and resolute, as if she had never been so determined before. Seeing this, Louise, who had received the young man's body, was momentarily stunned before speaking anxiously, "Tia, you—" "The sisters have reminded you countless times." Tia said, her back to Louise, slowly raising the moonlight staff in her hands, "In the field, address titles appropriately." Even in such a dire situation, you focus on this? Despite her panic, Louise changed her words, "Your Holiness, your safety is paramount! Don't sacrifice yourself for us, or else—" She was interrupted by Tia again, her voice unexpectedly tender this time. "Since you call me 'Your Holiness,' how could I bear to watch you all get harmed by this dreadful creature?" In the next moment, serene and gentle moonlight began to flow outward like a stream. Louise stared blankly at the scene, clutching the cold body of the boy, unable to speak a word. At that very moment, everyone's focus was on Tia. However, in a somewhat neglected corner, the boy's index finger twitched slightly.