Sorcerer’s Handbook

Chapter 170: So This Is What Hatred Feels Like

Before the prison break, Ashe had met with Ronald once in the cafeteria, alone.

Ronald, to him, was nothing more than a tool, but it wouldn’t be true to say Ashe lacked all compassion. Thus, Ashe had probed Ronald’s plans after the escape—whether he intended to part ways with Langna or assassinate him.

Should it be the latter, Ashe could reach an understanding with Ronald—regardless, after fulfilling Harvey’s Contract, the Prison Escapees were bound to clash.

It had nothing to do with interests or grudges; it was purely a matter of trust.

You can never be sure if others will turn against you, so you must strike first.

When dealing with a group of Death row inmates who crawled out of a Manure pit, it’s best to assume the worst because they too judge others by their own base standards.

If Ronald needed it, Ashe could covertly coordinate with Igor and Harvey to focus their attacks on Langna at the moment of rupture. After all, the bald Werewolf was indeed the strongest among them, and with him being a member of the ruling Race, Moonshadow, there were plenty of reasons to target Langna.

However, Ronald flatly rejected Ashe’s kindness. He was grateful for Ashe’s help and suggestions, but he firmly refused to let Ashe and the others interfere in his affairs.

It wasn’t that Ashe underestimated Ronald, but a gang assassin having principles about murder was just absurd. Ronald didn’t explain much, just shook his head, indicating that their intervention would only ruin his revenge.

“I must make Langna feel true pain.”

Ahead was Gerard, wielding the destructive Blade, and behind was Ronald, calculating and full of resentment. Langna’s face showed neither sorrow nor joy, only slightly tilting his head at the whistling sound of the steel beads.

Then, a shadow descended.

Thud!

Gerard’s Chain Sword stopped mid-Slash as it hit a person. He felt as if his miracle-infused Blade had struck the hardest metal or the heaviest mire; all his strength absorbed by the frail body before him.

And this strange sensation of the Slash…

Blood splattered like scalding whips across Langna’s face as he watched the figure who had shielded him, slightly lowering his eyelids.

Ronald’s strength as a One Wing Sorcerer to become ‘Golden Beak’ was due to a hidden Faction in the Virtual Realm that allowed him to create disposable steel beads equivalent to a Device Spirit. With careful preparation, the destructive power of these beads could rival that of a Two Wings. It was only natural that he could assassinate a Two Wings Sorcerer with the element of surprise on his side.

One of these beads was known as the ‘Flickering Steel Bead,’ which enabled Ronald to teleport to the bead’s location. After the prison escape, Langna had spent much effort to help Ronald gather the materials for the Flickering Steel Bead, aiding him in crafting one — Ronald’s old safe houses for placing his items had long been destroyed and confiscated by the Sin Hunter’s Hall.

There were too many situations where the Flickering Steel Bead could be used, such as three moments just before when it should have been used to escape danger, yet Ronald had not used it.

He chose to use it here.

As Gerard retracted his Chain Sword, Ronald collapsed backward like a lump of mud, and Langna caught him. The blood-escaping wound revealed the ghastly and cold steel bones within.

This was the secret behind Ronald’s use of the steel beads; he did not rely on arcane energy to propel the beads but used his own steel bones as a base to generate a magnetic pull to guide them.

Apart from being a casting medium, Ronald’s steel bones also provided him with formidable defense. His steel skeleton was a Miracle in itself; the seemingly frail Ronald could disperse any impact across his entire steel frame, so much so that even Langna had never managed to bite through any of Ronald’s bones.

Therefore, when Gerard’s strike hit Ronald, the Golden Beak was already dead. He successfully blocked Gerard’s full-powered attack, but the cost was his entire skeleton, organs, and even muscles being crushed by the powerful impact.

Langna felt as though he wasn’t holding a person but melting ice cream. Ronald seemed to have deliberately maintained the integrity of his face, allowing Langna to see his final expression clearly: a slight smile on his lips, eyes narrowed, as if he were laughing.

From that expression, Langna could see hatred, a sense of release, and even a trace of… pity.

Langna then hoisted Ronald’s Corpse onto his shoulder and, with one hand, slapped the ground of the raised platform.

“Pray for the Dark Side of the Moon.”

The raised platform burst forth with hundreds of peculiar runes, and the Blood Moon cast down its dark red light. In an instant, the platform became an absolute forbidden zone, repelling everyone on it, including Langna and Gerard!

Gerard unfolded his Tri-wings and hovered in midair, his gaze fixed on the Virtual Realm Passage being smeared by the dark light, his face extremely ugly: “How could you—”

“You should have seen my resume, knowing that I was once an elite Moonshadow Priest,” Langna said, placing Ronald’s Corpse down, and glancing at the group of priests nearby watching the platform: “During the Hunting Festival, the greatest use of a priest is not to bless, but to seal and destroy passages.”

“After so many years, the Ritual Track of ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ has hardly changed, and I can still easily trigger the Procedure prepared in the platform, completing the last step, and invoking the power of the Moonshadow to completely forbid the Virtual Realm Passage.”

At this moment, Gerard was no longer in a hurry, having watched Ashe step into the Virtual Realm Passage; he reverted back to his usual demeanor as the Captain of the Blood Mad Hunters, “But this also means you cannot escape.”

“To me, Shattered Lake Prison, Kaimon City, or any other Kingdom makes no difference,” Langna said, removing his cloak to reveal his fierce, hairless face: “It’s just that Ronald longed to escape from prison, and I did everything in my power to fulfill his wish.”

“Ashe just helped Ronald; I hope this return gift will satisfy Ashe.”

“Ashe Heath, he truly is a devil more beguiling than a Bewitcher,” Gerard sighed: “Even a Moonshadow traitor is willing to sacrifice himself for his escape.”

“Who said I was going to sacrifice myself?”

Langna took off his shirt, revealing a physique as sculpted and robust as marble.

“Do you mean to say you want to escape right in front of me?” Gerard flicked his Chain Sword lightly, shaking off the fresh blood to form a mist of red: “I’m not a sole believer in the power of arcane energy, but you just exhausted all your strength to barely fend off my Chain Sword. I don’t think you have the capability.”

“Moreover, I’m in a foul mood tonight and want to get home for some rest. After all, I’m now working overtime on a voluntary basis.” The White-haired Hunter’s red eyes swept through with a fierce light: “I won’t adhere to the safety clauses in the ‘Sin Hunter’s Hall Enforcement Code’ anymore, and I will show no mercy to anyone trying to stop me from clocking out.”

Langna seemed impervious to Gerard’s murderous intent, calmly asking: “As a favored child of the Blood Moon Sovereign, do you know the difference between the Moonshadow and the sacred bloodline?”

Gerard answered without hesitation: “Moonshadow gives life, sacred bloodline guards death.”

“Yes, Moonshadow gives life, sacred bloodline guards death. This represents the social division of labor between the two races and also summarizes their character traits. The sacred bloodline possesses a death-like calmness, while the Moonshadow always maintains a newborn-like passion.” Langna glanced at the curious Moonshadow Priests nearby: “But in my view, this phrase could also mean that the sacred bloodline are all dirty adults, and the Moonshadow are all mischievous children.”

Recalling his subordinate Emma, the werewolf with the large tail, Gerard had to admit that Langna was right. At that moment, the White-haired Hunter realized something and stared intently at Langna: “Langna Chios, you seem…”

“’Only the pure of heart, those who do not forget to pray at night, can transform into a Moonshadow on the night when the henbane blooms under the full moon.’” Langna said: “Since I was young, I realized I was different from the other Moonshadow electors. They are full of passion, emotionally impulsive, pure and naive, simply greedy, whereas I am the exact opposite—I was born without affection, without desire.”

“Interestingly, I still became a Moonshadow, a werewolf who can only transform in the shadows. The Priests told me to hide myself, but most spirits in the Moonshadow faction need emotions as fuel, so I had to seek the help of the ‘Affection’ spirit.”

“Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps misfortune, but in the Virtual Realm, I came across a set of Taboo Ritual Tracks from the Mind Faction. The effect of the Ritual Track is to harvest emotions from others, seemingly to complement those miracles that require the burning of vast amounts of emotion.”

“But for me, emotions are exactly what I need. I need to harvest feelings; I need something to fill the emptiness inside.”

“I modified the Ritual Track, but the process became more bloody. I was quickly caught, and my secret was exposed. However, the Church didn’t execute me—they never execute a fellow member. So, I was sent to Shattered Lake Prison, where I could continue my research.”

“I would plant ‘Affection’ in the target’s heart, letting it overflow throughout their body. I tried my best to act out the semblance of ‘love,’ but to no avail. Me, without emotions, even after harvesting so many emotions, fundamentally could not understand or experience them.”

“But watching Ronald die before me, the wasteland in my heart experienced its first sprout.” Langna clenched his blood-stained fist: “After nine years, I finally acquired emotion.”

Gerard asked with interest, “Is it love?”

“No, it’s hate.” Langna’s tone finally fluctuated: “Ronald wanted to die in front of me because he hated me!”

“He knew my emotions were a facade, knew that any form of revenge was meaningless to me. The only way to make me suffer was to make me feel emotion.”

“So he planned to escape from prison, to leave the Blood Moon, to accumulate hope, to gather joy, and then choose an appropriate time to die in front of me in the most tragic way, like a bubble bursting.”

“That way, the twisted tree that grew in his heart, watered with hope, fertilized with joy, basking in the sunlight of freedom, yet rooted in the soil of pain, would bear the most vibrant fruit and plant it deep within me.”

“He succeeded, and so did I.”

Langna raised his thumbs and with Ronald’s blood drew two streaks under his eyes.

“So this is what hate feels like.”

Seeing this, Gerard’s brows twitched violently, as unpleasant memories surged back into his mind.

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