Genius Warlock

Chapter 243

"Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"

The Out Cry launched with the help of the black suit shook the entire laboratory with its immense power, attacking Bathory.

Even the threatening blood magic was torn apart like a piece of paper in the face of this transcendent power, and Bathory was swept away by it, flying to the other side.

Bang! Crash!

Bang bang!

Rumble! Bang!

Countless walls shattered, and thick dust filled the surroundings.

Oliver should have been worried about the lab collapsing due to the tremendous power, but he didn't care about such things.

Because Bathory was still alive.

Blood gushed from the seemingly empty ruins of the laboratory, solidifying into a human shape.

"That hurt quite a bit."

"You shouldn't just feel pain... Is there any chance we can reconcile now?"

Oliver asked sincerely.

Despite enhancing the black suit by combining artificial soul, emotions, Life-force, and mana, he had no confidence in his fight against Bathory.

It may sound selfish, but Oliver wanted to reconcile if he could.

"You can't ask for reconciliation after hitting a woman like that, Dave."

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't hit you, I would have died... What did you say?"

"It seems that's your name, right? Dave?"

Oliver silently admitted it was the correct answer since it was too late to hide it now.

"...You can read minds, after all."

"No, but with experience, your reasoning skills can improve. Landa, a warlock who can use magic, unique armor woven tightly with emotions and Life-force, a quarterstaff, a peculiar way of talking that irritates people... I realized it too late, actually."

"? I'm sorry, but you talk as if you know me?"

"I do know you. Your reputation is spreading on this side of the world."

Oliver cocked his head, seemingly unable to comprehend. Because he really couldn't understand.

Bathory seemed to have read his thoughts and kindly answered.

"You killed three of the Human-meat Chef's henchmen and four of his disciples, didn't you?"

"Ah... That wasn't my intention. And I captured one without killing."

Oliver spoke confidently without any lies.

While it was true he killed Human-meat Chef's disciples, it was never his intention. It was an unavoidable incident that occurred during his work.

Also, he only captured the last disciple, Venium, without killing him and handed him over to Pinkman.

"Whether you intended it or not, Human-meat Chef doesn't care about that. What's important is that you dared to challenge him."

"....Is that so?"

"Then it's rather surprising. Why does he still let you live? He doesn't let those who underestimate him go..."

Usually, Oliver would have said something like, "I don't know" or "I'm not sure," but this time, he stared intently at Bathory with a subtle narrowing of his eyebrows.

As if there was something strange and curious.

The highly skilled warlock Bathory noticed the subtle change in Oliver.

"It's rude to stare at a woman's face like that."

"Ah... I'm sorry. It's strange."

"You're even disrespectful. Saying a woman's face is strange."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. You're beautiful, Lady Bathory."

In the midst of this, Oliver spoke as he had learned from the employees of the Angels House.

Always compliment a woman's appearance whether she is actually pretty or not.

"Oh, thank you."

"But your emotions are strange."

"Emotions?"

"Yes, when you talk about Mr. Human-meat Chef, there is a very complex and subtle change in your emotions."

Bathory stiffens her expression in silence. Regardless, Oliver continued to describe, as if he were a sommelier evaluating wine.

"When you mention Mr. Human-meat Chef, Lady Bathory, you emit tremendous hatred."

Bathory's eyes narrowed and stared at Oliver menacingly, but Oliver, already absorbed in analyzing emotions, continued speaking.

"However, unlike general hatred, it's not hot but rather cold. It seems like it's been a long time, and your resentment appears to be deep."

"...Okay, that's enough."

"What's interesting and incomprehensible is...."

"Enough."

"...On one side of hatred, there's also longing and affection."

Fascinated by the unique emotions, Oliver ignored Bathory's words and finished speaking.

Bathory's face contorted with overwhelming shame and anger as if a hidden secret was revealed, and the target of her anger was none other than Oliver.

"...So, you and Mr. Human-meat Chef are not merely enemies."

"Can't you understand when I tell you to stop?"

For the first time, Bathory showed emotional turbulence.

Her facial muscles tensed, and her giant fangs grew.

"I apologize. I was just curious because even when your followers died, you didn't waver, but your emotions were different when talking about Mr. Human-meat Chef... By the way, your followers sincerely believed in you and had affection for you."

Oliver recalled a female warlock who tried to protect Bathory while trembling in fear.

Even with all her limbs burned except for one arm, she was more concerned about Bathory than herself.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Um, there's nothing in particular. I just wanted to mention it. I thought you should know."

Oliver spoke honestly, but the response was not good.

Bathory's expression, which always had composure and a smile, showed displeasure and anger.

"It's not over yet..."

Oliver noticed the blood gripping his ankle.

Intense anger, resentment, and hatred towards Oliver were evident in the blood.

He tried to escape, but it wasn't easy. Oliver looked up.

"Ah..."

The stake that had been lodged in the ground had risen again and was shot toward Oliver.

Oliver blocked it with his quarterstaff, but the blood spear was relentless, using its mass to pin Oliver to the floor and send him crashing down another level.

Bang!

As Oliver lost his balance during the fall, his back hit the floor.

It was as if an ant had been crushed under a human finger. Then, extra blood flowed from the spear, entangling around a human figure. It was Bathory.

"I acknowledge you. You're the second most annoying man I've met in my three hundred years."

"...Is the first one Mr. Human-meat Chef?"

Despite the urgent situation, Oliver asked.

Whether it was the right answer or not, Bathory twisted her face menacingly and raised her spear to stab Oliver.

Oliver blocked it once again with his quarterstaff, but it was futile.

As the spear tip was blocked, Bathory swiftly kicked Oliver's face and torso, trampled him, and then screamed in rage as she swung her fists and claws.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh———!!!"

Bathory's emotion-filled attack was powerful, and the already weakened Black Suit began to break.

Unable to withstand the impact of the beating, the floor collapsed once more.

Bang——!!

"I need to see your emotions stained with fear, humiliation, and hatred."

Bathory, fueled by vengeance, abandoned her spear and covered her entire body in blood to enhance her physical strength before attacking Oliver again.

The impact caused the floor to collapse again.

Bang———!!!

Even so, Bathory didn't stop attacking, and the floor couldn't withstand the impact and collapsed. It continued like this.

Bang———!!!!

Bang————!!!!

Bang—————!!!!

Eventually, Oliver and Bathory found themselves back on the lowest floor where they first met.

"Haa... Haa... Haa..."

Bathory was out of breath from hitting Oliver, and of course, he was not in good shape either.

Desperately protecting his face, the leather mask remained intact, but he had lost his quarterstaff during the fall, his Black Suit was half-destroyed, his vision blurry from the impact, and his body was bruised and injured all over.

Bathory grabbed Oliver's neck and lifted him up.

"How does it feel?"

"...It hurts."

Oliver replied calmly. It was not an exaggeration, but the truth.

Bathory didn't like Oliver's attitude.

She couldn't tolerate him, not even begging for his life or showing fear despite being a mere novice Warlock.

She wanted to pay him back, beyond just winning or losing. She wanted him to feel the anger, hatred, and humiliation she was feeling.

"Hey, do you know what else I gain from blood other than power, talent, and strength?"

"Uh... knowledge and information of the person?"

"More precisely, their memories... From now on, I'll suck every last drop of your blood and kill everyone you hold dear. Painfully. As a tribute to your poker face."

"...There's no one like that?"

"No family, lover, or friends?"

Oliver remained indifferent.

He was an orphan and had no lover. As for friends...

"...You have one?"

Even in the face of death, Oliver's emotions wavered ever so slightly.

It was because he did have a friend. That friend was Kent.

Bathory sensed immense pleasure from Oliver's reaction and showed him a malicious smile.

"I don't know who that person is, but I'll find that person. I'll kill that person’s loved ones one by one, kindly tell that person it's all your fault, and then I'll cut off that person’s limbs and—"

—Schk.

Oliver swiftly raised his hand.

Along with that, Bathory's arm holding him fell off, and Oliver's legs, which had been suspended in mid-air, landed on the ground.

In the cold silence, Bathory slowly looked at Oliver's fingertips with a surreal gaze.

He was holding a knife made of emotions in his hand.

"......."

"......."

The atmosphere was filled with an eerie silence as Bathory tentatively retreated, overwhelmed by the instinctual terror of confronting a being more powerful than her. And in that moment...

Schk. Schk. Schk.

Sharp and concise sounds echoed as an arm and two legs floated in the air.

Bathory, having lost her limbs, fell to the floor.

Looking down at her, Oliver asked.

"After cutting off the limbs... what was next?"

(To be Continued)

OR

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