Chapter 78: I should say… Lilith

Seeing Lucien raging like thunder about to strike, Lyra was so furious she nearly cried—but her lips were numb from earlier... excessive mouth activity. She gritted her teeth, raised her hand, and a violent green gust suddenly blew forth, sending Lucien flying. Whoosh! Whoosh! The howling wind startled Lucien. He quickly tried to retreat, but how could he be faster than Lyra? "Ack! Professor... I—AGH!!!" Lucien didn’t even finish his sentence before being blown far, far away. Lyra was panting—not from exhaustion, but from embarrassment. Her lips, already reddened from overuse, trembled as a drop of cloudy white fluid clung to her flushed cheek. She looked off into the distance, then glanced around. Realizing there was no one else nearby besides Lucien, she finally let out a sigh of relief. Right after, she summoned Azure and flew off like the wind. ... Inside the room, Lathel sat on his bed, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He gazed at the System notification hovering in front of him, his excitement only growing stronger. [Ding! Congratulations, Lyra’s Affection Points toward you have increased to 84%.] "Eighty-four percent... That’s enough, but a little fun won’t hurt." Lathel smiled and murmured. With a wave of his hand, the soul-nourishing pill he had "swallowed" earlier reappeared, floating above his palm. "Evelyn... I have a gift for you." Hearing his words, Evelyn’s voice echoed in his mind. "You’re really giving me this? If you take it, you’ll—" "Don’t talk so much." Lathel frowned, his eyes flashing with impatience. "Don’t forget who your master is." Evelyn went silent for a moment. Then, the space in front of him rippled violently, like the surface of a lake disturbed by a stone. Concentric ripples spread outward, and from the center, a pair of puppet-like hands slowly emerged. The hands were made of a material that seemed to be a mix of wood and porcelain, riddled with cracks—and even a hole that exposed a twisted void within. The hands reached out, grasped the pill, and pulled it into the spatial vortex before vanishing entirely. "You didn’t have to do that." Lathel chuckled at Evelyn’s words. "I do whatever I want." Evelyn was silent for a while before speaking again. "Earlier... you could’ve had her." "So what?" Lathel leaned back, his gaze drifting out the window. "It’s still not the right time. Besides... playing around a little makes life more entertaining." "You’re really strange..." "I’ll take that as a compliment," Lathel replied indifferently. He knew exactly what he was doing. Although Lyra’s Affection Points had surpassed 80%, it still wasn’t enough. Their time together had been short, and he understood clearly... what just happened was due to her lack of experience in love. That’s why, when emotions erupted suddenly, she couldn’t control them. If he had taken advantage of that moment to make her his woman, there wouldn’t have been a problem—at least temporarily. But over time, she would realize that love isn’t a sudden impulse, but a process. That’s why Lathel didn’t want to rush. He certainly didn’t want to claim her just yet. The more emotions shared, the more personal experiences they had together, the stronger their bond would become. Lathel walked over to the tea table, poured himself a cup, and said, "Wait a moment, someone’s about to pay me a visit." "Lathel! Come out here!" Suddenly, a voice rang out—full of rage, but also laced with exhaustion and pain. Lathel smirked in disdain. He stood up slowly, his movements calm and unhurried, without the slightest hint of fear. Krit! The door swung open, and Lathel saw Lucien in a pitiful state—dirty, bruised, and battered. "Lucien, what are you doing here?" Lathel instantly changed his expression, feigning surprise and slight concern. The moment Lucien saw Lathel, it was like a fire ignited inside him—he wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds. But he knew he couldn’t do that, not now. Professor Lyra might still be nearby. He clenched his fists tightly, rage threatening to consume him. Earlier, after being blown away by the violent wind, he had luckily landed in a patch of grass and trees, which softened the fall. If not for that, even as a Level 1 – Late Stage Awakened, he would’ve been bed-ridden for at least half a month. "Give it to me!" "Hm?!" Lathel furrowed his brows in mock confusion. "What do you mean?" "Don’t play dumb!" Lucien shouted furiously. "Hand over the pill. If you don’t, I’ll cut you in two." As he spoke, he unsheathed the massive black sword on his back and gripped it tightly. "And stop putting on that innocent face—it makes me sick." "A liar like you doesn’t deserve to be her disciple. If Professor Lyra weren’t protecting you, you’d be dead already." Lathel sneered, eyes filled with contempt as he looked at Lucien. At that moment, he saw an aura radiating from Lucien’s body—a brilliant, multicolored halo. But that light was flickering, as if something was shaking its very foundation, dimming it. Lathel shook his head and chuckled, then said, "And you think you deserve to stand beside her?" "Heh?!" Lucien flinched, surprised at Lathel’s sudden change in demeanor. "Of course... I... I’ll protect her. I’ll never hurt her." "What did you do to Professor Lyra?! I saw everything—I saw her torn robe, I saw her crying." "You must’ve done something horrible to her." "Ah!" Lathel sneered. "That’s right. I made her mine." "You... Bastard!" Lucien completely lost control. His left hand immediately reached behind his back, grabbed the massive black sword, and lunged at Lathel. Whoosh! The blade sliced through the air, producing a high-pitched whistle as it came down toward Lathel’s head. Yet Lathel didn’t move. He stood still, his gaze indifferent to an unsettling degree. KENG! "What?!" Lucien gasped as he saw the blade come to a halt in mid-air—blocked by an invisible wall protecting Lathel. "You... don’t tell me Professor Lyra is still here?" Lucien instantly backed away, mumbling as he glanced around in search of her figure. "You bastard!" Lucien growled through clenched teeth. "If you’re a real man, fight me fair and square." "Don’t hide behind a woman. You disgust me. You’re like a maggot crawling through a rotting carcass." Lathel listened to Lucien’s words without the slightest trace of anger or irritation. He simply smirked and said softly, "Lucien, do you really think fairness exists in this world?" "You... What do you mean?" Lucien gripped his sword tightly. His hand trembled slightly, as memories of the Trial Tower surged back into his mind. Lathel stroked his chin and cast a sideways glance at Lucien, his eyes filled with pity and scorn. "If this world were truly fair, then why were you born to a prostitute while I was born a prince?" "You..." Lucien stammered. The old psychological wounds from childhood began to throb painfully at Lathel’s words, throwing his mind into chaos. "How ridiculous..." Lathel continued, "You cry for fairness, yet treat others unjustly." "You envy me. You wonder why I was born a prince while you’re just a worthless insect." "Why I have Selvia’s love and the admiration of others, while you’re always scorned and looked down on?" "Hahaha... Lucien, you cry for fairness only because you’re jealous of me. Am I wrong?" "Shut up!!!" Lucien shouted. His eyes gradually turned crimson, like a monster awakening: "I’m not jealous of you! Why would I ever envy someone as lowly as you?!" "Lowly?" Lathel clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly toward Lucien. "You’re the lowly one. I’m a prince—destined to shine like the sun, the future ruler of a kingdom." "And you? You’re the son of a whore. An unwanted child. An abandoned stray just trying desperately to get others to notice you." "No! That’s not true!" Lucien gritted his teeth, his thoughts spiraling. "You’re lying! I... I still have my friends by my side!" "Friends?" Lathel scoffed. "They’re just using you. To them, you’re nothing more than a dog." "They stick around because you’re stupid—easy to manipulate. If you were smart, they’d serve you. But they don’t... because you’re beneath them." "AGHHH!!!" Lucien roared, his eyes now glowing blood-red. BAM! The bandages on his left arm exploded into countless fragments, revealing a monstrous hand that clutched his greatsword as he swung it furiously at Lathel. KENG! Once again, the sword strike was blocked by the invisible wall. Lathel scoffed and said with scorn, "Hahaha... Lucien, are you angry now? Sorry, I’m just speaking the truth." "Ah! Perhaps your mother is writhing in agony right now, watching you crawl back to the man who abandoned her, the man who drove her to her death." "You truly must’ve made her sick to her stomach. Ah, my mistake... I forgot—your mother is dead." "Hahaha..." "GAHHH!!!" Lucien completely lost control, swinging his sword at Lathel over and over again. Keng! Keng! Keng! Keng! The clash of metal echoed repeatedly as the massive black sword was swung down again and again. But every time the blade descended, it was halted less than ten centimeters from Lathel’s head. "You bastard! Die! Just die already!" Lucien snarled, swinging wildly, his face twisted with pure madness. Lathel stared at Lucien—or rather, at the halo of light surrounding him. That once-radiant aura was now trembling violently, like a candle flickering in the face of a storm. "Huh!" Lathel snorted disdainfully. BAM! "ACK!" At that moment, a shockwave exploded outward, and Lucien felt like his body was being crushed from every direction. Pfff! He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his eyes widened in disbelief as they locked onto Lathel, his face growing pale before he finally lost consciousness. "That’s it?" Lathel sighed. "Too easy. But I won’t kill you just yet... that wouldn’t maximize the value you can offer me." Indeed. To Lathel, Lucien was like an endless treasure chest. As long as he was alive, Lathel could continue to reap the benefits. If he died, maybe Lathel would earn some kind of reward from the System—but it wouldn’t compare to the full potential Lucien held. Lathel smiled and reached out his hand as if to grasp Lucien’s neck, but at that moment... a misty white smoke flowed out, blocking his hand. "Ah!" Lathel wasn’t surprised at all. Instead, he sneered and said mockingly, "Finally showing yourself? Lucien’s master—no, I should say... Lilith."