Chapter 559: True Revenge!

Chapter 559: The True Retribution!

Torisa propped himself up with both hands on the ground, gasping for breath as a continuous plume of yellow smoke billowed from his form, his body steadily melting away.

Yet, what dripped down was neither a waxy substance like corpse oil nor any foul, rancid pus; rather, it was strand upon strand of yellow sand.

They cascaded incessantly from Torisa’s eyes, ears, mouth, and the rest of his skin, resembling a shattered hourglass.

Before long, a small mound of sand had accumulated beneath the spot where he crawled.

Everything he was—his past, his realm, his pride—now slipped uncontrollably from his grasp like sand tightly squeezed between fingers, leaving him with nothing but ruthless mockery.

"Heh... Haha... Heh..."

Torisa began to laugh, a sound steeped in despair and remorse.

Karen believed that his regret at this moment must be genuine, for even the most selfish of men, once they have utterly gambled away everything, can cling to nothing else but the emotion of remorse.

Many would consider regret a manifestation of agony, but in Karen’s eyes, it was actually a way to relieve pressure.

Take Neo’s condition, for instance; he was habitually tense, wound so tightly that it easily invited trouble.

Had he called himself or his other teammates out for drinks every few days, weeping and blubbering through his tears, he would likely be perfectly fine instead.

Thus, being overly strong was sometimes not a virtue; when the time for collapse truly came, it would offer no warning, shattering into pieces before your eyes with a sudden, thunderous crash.

At this thought, Karen could not help but cast another glance at Neo.

Neo had gone down to deliberately provoke Torisa merely to seek a beating—to find someone explicitly stronger than himself to thrash him, thereby giving himself a clearer goal and pursuit.

Ah, what an exhausting way to live.

This sigh, born from the depths of his heart, was for Neo, and for himself.

Leaving Number 13 Mink Street, leaving the Allen Manor, leaving the Allen Apartments—through several choices, Karen had repeatedly rejected a more comfortable living environment;

Every time he lay in bed after being wounded, he too had felt regret in his heart, thinking how wonderful it would have been had he chosen ease back then.

In the final analysis, it stemmed from that very line he had so confidently spoken to his grandfather at the beginning: The world is so vast, I want to go out and see it.

The words had already been spoken, so no matter what, he had to continue walking along that chosen path;

Yet, if time could be rewritten, he would probably reach out to cover his past self's mouth and say apologetically to his grandfather, "Let me think about it some more."

Neo possessed none of that self-awareness to grant someone a dignified end before killing them; toward enemies, he had always been cruel, and so he deeply relished the joy of rubbing salt into another's wounds.

"I will look up your files when I return. Three hundred years—though the era is somewhat distant, it should be quite easy to find you within the system's internal archives.

Though the records are not yet laid out before me, I expect I shall glimpse the figure of a once-excellent Captain of the Whip of Order; your resume must be exceedingly brilliant.

So, why bother?"

Come, suffer a little more before you die.

Torisa spoke, "I was because I fell under an illusion..."

"Even now, do you still wish to defend yourself?

You were not loyal to Order, nor were you loyal to the Sacred Church. Compaccini’s mastery over illusions was indeed profound; it was the master of illusions of that era. But what truly turned you into what you are today was not it, but your ambition, your private desires, and your selfishness.

What a pity. If you had not chosen to walk that path, if back then you could have held onto your faith and principles just a little longer...

I do not believe you would have been qualified to enter the Pantheon in the end, but I think you would certainly have been a role model for us, the later members of the Whip of Order. Your name would have appeared in the manuals, and certain tactics and techniques might even have been named after you.

Rest assured, after we leave this place, we will convey the news of this area to the Sacred Church through certain means, and the Church will dispatch personnel here to wrap things up.

The history of your apostasy will also be made public. Three hundred years ago, Torisa, Captain of the Whip of Order squadron in the Dingle District, murdered his subordinates and apostatized.

When that time comes, your name will become a negative case study held in the hands of future generations of the Whip of Order.

Those fat-bellied bureaucrats handling faith education will take your case, spraying saliva as they recount your crimes over and over again, while using your ultimate fate to warn all those listening in the lecture hall that those who violate the faith of Order will, in the end, be punished by Order!"

Torisa responded, "Do you think I would still care about such things?"

"Of course you would care!

What a selfish person is truly like—it is not as if I have never seen one before. I am very selfish myself; it only takes a bit of putting myself in your shoes. Do you think I would believe you could just let everything go before you die?

No, you will not. A man like you, even if you shed tears now, would only be weeping for yourself. Before you truly close your eyes, you will still be calculating all your gains and losses.

Oh, right, that giant black ape behind you earlier indicates that you have a family inheritance.

Three hundred years is not too long for a family within the Church; your family should still exist, perhaps developing even better than they did three hundred years ago. Once this matter comes to light, they will be disgraced because of you."

Saying this, Neo subconsciously looked toward Karen and continued:

"That is why I have always felt that in the rules and regulations designed by Lord Tyrannus, the faith audit clause is truly brilliant. Your valet also chatted with me about this, and his meaning was that you support it.

I am just a bit curious: with your grandfather having such an incident happen to him, you would actually still support this kind of audit system."

"The Sacred Church never actually convicted my grandfather."

"True enough, but I think it is more because they did not quite dare to do so."

"You are drifting off topic."

"Oh, right, I should continue to lash him." Neo refocused his attention onto Torisa. "When you beat me just now, did you beat me very happily?"

Torisa replied, "If I had known it would be like this, I would not have given you the chance to escape the boundaries of the sand pool. I would have killed you, killed you at all costs!"

"Do you think you could truly kill me?" Neo asked with a smile. "Ah, this sand pool is the safest place. Even if it were turned into an amusement park, letting children come in to play with the sand and build castles, there would not be the slightest bit of danger."

Neo reached out and tapped the center of his brow, continuing:

"These words were not spoken by me, but left in my mind by that gentleman.

Though there were divergences in our routes and each had our own direction in faith, it cannot be denied that Compaccini was a kind person... oh no, a kind beast.

You cannot kill me, especially today; the inheritance has already begun, which means the curse has come to an end.

The consciousness left behind by Compaccini felt it was time to let you know the ultimate truth, delivering a final, cruel blow to you, the fellow he has toyed with and avenged himself upon for three hundred years.

The two of us have merely accelerated this process, or rather, allowed the presentation of this result to bear a few more ripples."

Karen reminded him, "It was you alone; I did not know."

Neo countered, "Is it not very delightful now that you do know?"

Karen shook his head, "I do not particularly care for this kind of delight."

Neo tilted his neck back, wanting to say something more, when Alfred’s figure approached from the distance. He left the boundary of the sand pool, walked up to Karen, and said very respectfully:

"Young Master."

Karen responded very bluntly, "What kind of creature are you?"

"Hahahahaha!" Neo burst into laughter. "Why are you pretending to be Alfred? Their relationship ceased to be master and servant long ago; you cannot deceive him."

Alfred smiled as well, and then revealed the form of the ivory-complexioned old man in white robes, responding:

"That gentleman is still receiving the inheritance, but it is nearly finished. He said that if it were his Young Master receiving this inheritance instead, the effect would be even better. Ah, what a pity."

"Tch." Neo made a dismissive sound. "No pity at all; it is not as if he would look upon it favorably anyway."

"You both talk very big." The old man spread his hands. "It leaves me somewhat at a loss."

At this moment, Karen took a half-step back from the old man and bowed once more:

"My apologies; I offended you just now. It was not intentional."

Cullen’s reaction just now had actually been quite courteous. He had likely guessed who was impersonating Alfred, which was why he merely issued a verbal warning and rebuke rather than launching a direct attack.

"It is no matter." The elder spoke dismissively. "I suppose it was I who took the jest too far; it is I who should apologize."

Neo gestured toward the old man, speaking to Cullen: "You see, I told you this fellow was decent. To think he remains so well-mannered even upon his own domain."

A bitter smile touched the elder's lips.

Neo continued, "Thus, had I not been certain he discerned my true identity, I would not have descended to bicker with him so recklessly just now. I am well aware that I could not defeat him within this pool of sand."

The elder looked somewhat astonished. "You are Philias?"

Neo replied, "He is a part of me. Yet, what is the meaning behind that questioning tone of yours?"

"I merely supposed someone among you knew the exact moment my neighbor would dissipate. I conjectured that you had obtained messages or journals left by Philias, thereby learning of this place and discerning the most opportune time to enter and claim the inheritance."

"You did not know Philias was I?"

"I did not."

"You failed to perceive it?"

"I did."

"Then how did you view matters when I was inside fighting that fellow just now?"

"Out of deference to the one receiving the inheritance, I did not wish for any among you to perish. Even if you are all priests of Judgment, my true self never harbored hatred for the Church of Judgment. Up until the moment he was slain by the Whip of Judgment, he felt the Church had treated him exceedingly well; his years within its ranks were the happiest and warmest of his life.

However, I witnessed that you were the one to actively provoke him. Faced with such a suicidal act, I would not intervene, for I possess no such authority myself, and I hold a greater reverence for the right of others to choose their own destiny."

Neo drew a deep breath and inquired, "So, if he had truly slain me earlier, you would not have intervened? For instance, by causing him to turn into this ahead of time?"

The elder shook his head and said, "No. This truth, of course, must be unveiled by my own hand."

Immediately following this, the elder gestured toward Cullen: "I can perceive that he has no desire to die. Thus, when he was nearly compressed into mincemeat earlier, I gave a reminder to his valet."

"Heh heh heh," Neo burst into laughter. "You blind fool!"

The elder turned his gaze upon Neo: "Are you the inheritor of Philias?"

Neo replied, "In a manner of speaking, barely. He was consumed by me, but he is toxic."

"Ah, so that is the reason you possess the Light within you."

"I am poisoned, I am firmly convinced of it. Food poisoning."

"To an existence incompatible with it, the Light manifests as a high-intensity purification—which is to say, erasure. Quite clearly, you do not belong to that category, which signifies..."

"Silence!"

"Very well." The elder smiled and fell silent.

"You are nearly gone yourself, so cease trying to cast illusions upon me in imitation of your true self."

"Indeed, quite so." The elder’s temperament was indeed remarkably pleasant. "Mr. Philias was a very fine man. Though he refused the inheritance, I conversed with him; he was a truly wise believer in the Light."

Neo remained noncommittal.

Cullen took it upon himself to respond: "Yes, he was."

The elder smiled and turned away.

Cullen then spoke to Neo: "You still took too great a risk."

"I know now that it was a risk."

"I do not mean just now; I mean from the very beginning." Cullen reminded him.

"The very beginning?"

"The message left by Philias told you that the spiritual imprint left by Compasini was a benevolent man."

"Yes, what of it?"

"I acknowledge both Mr. Philias’s noble character and his excellent virtues, but his judgment of character..."

"You mean Bernard?"

"Yes."

"That is different. It is only natural he misjudged Bernard."

"How is it different?"

"Because he regarded Bernard as a friend."

The elder walked over to Torrisa, bending down to look at the man whose body was already half-transformed into cascading sand.

"Did you know? My true self came within a hair's breadth of successfully fleeing back to the Desert Church. It was because you and your squad were sufficiently excellent that you intercepted him at the final moment."

Torrisa, of whom only half a face remained, looked at the elder in utter bewilderment.

"Perhaps this is what is called destiny. When you drove your sword into the body of my true self and shattered the last vestige of his vitality, his heart actually held great admiration for you."

"Do I still have a chance to remedy this? I can forfeit my realm, but my body has merely been cast into a long slumber. I feel I might yet have a chance to..."

"No, you have no chance. You died long ago. In truth, you are just like those subordinates you laid hands upon; all of you died long ago. It is only within this sand pool that you have been able to maintain an illusion, believing yourselves to still be among the living.

An illusion, after all, is false. How could it truly resurrect a man in this world? If it were possible, the one standing before you and speaking would not be I, but rather my true self."

The elder extended a finger, gently touching the space between Torrisa’s brows, and spoke softly:

"I shall grant you one more opportunity to dream. This is my final kindness to you, and it was also the intent of my true self before his demise. Make your choice once more; your companions are still waiting for you."

"Thank... you..."

The moment the fingertip touched the space between his brows, Torrisa’s body began to dissolve at an accelerated pace, turning into a handful of yellow sand in an instant.

The elder plunged his hand into the mound of sand and tossed it upward; the grains began to dance through the air.

They coalesced into a scene, within which Torrisa’s final dream was currently unfolding.

The elder took two steps back, selecting a more suitable vantage point from which to watch.

Then, he turned his head to look at Cullen and Neo beside him, asking:

"Do you find that my mercy borders somewhat on the excessive? Yet there is no helping it; this was the command left by my original body before his death, and I must fulfill it."

Neo shook his head and said, "I can understand. I can understand completely. You are very much like this one here; it seems your true self must also have been a man of propriety."

Neo was referring to Cullen.

The elder nodded and said, "Yes. My true self was very much like his valet, which means he must have been very much like this Mr. Cullen. All of you are quite showy."

Cullen: "..."

...

Torrisa felt as though he had dreamed a very, very long dream, and now, the dream had ended.

He looked down and found himself treading upon the colossal carcass of Compasini, the Sword of Diamans driven into its skull.

He looked around in some bewilderment, seeing his wife, Luna, collapsed in a pool of blood. He saw the angel, saw the blind man, saw Kuzan, and saw each of his subordinates standing around him, faces wearing the smiles of a completed mission.

Even upon Luna's face, there was a smile.

Torrisa drew the sword from the corpse and immediately rushed to his wife's side, examining her current condition with frantic anxiety.

"It is nothing. Seal my wound with a scroll, and it should hold until we return to the church hospital for treatment." Luna comforted her husband.

"Captain, rest assured," Angel, the priest of the squad, cried out. "I will look after Luna on the way. I won't let anything happen to her."

"Captain, the bastard who gravely wounded Luna has been captured alive! He's still breathing. Just say the word, how should we punish him?"

Right then, an unfamiliar voice echoed in Torisa's mind, imparting a method—a way to rapidly elevate his own cultivation realm.

Torisa immediately shook his head with force, as if trying to fling the voice completely out of his mind, before waving his hand. "Give him a swift death," he said.

"But, Captain..."

"Give him a swift end. Our mission is complete, and we must hurry back. Not only to tend to my beloved as soon as possible, but also to take on our next assignment!

Our adventure, our glory, is far from over. I believe that in the future, the tactical manuals in the hands of the juniors of the Whip of Order will feature strategies and battles named after us!

Everyone, leave this place with me. For order, for ourselves, let us begin the next journey!"

Torisa raised his sword and cheered aloud. He vaguely knew this was a dream, but he felt grateful because within this dream, he could make a different choice. If only this dream could last another three hundred years.

But right at that moment,

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

One by one, the subordinates around him, including his wife Luna, thrust their weapons into his body simultaneously. He was turned entirely into a hedgehog, while those subordinates who had once trusted, followed, and revered him now bore faces completely filled with hatred and loathing.

Torisa's mouth hung open as blood poured continuously from his lips. He wanted to scream in rage, but found he could not make a sound at all. His world seemed permanently frozen right here, dyed in a suffocating, oppressive gray and white.

Nothing remained but the relentless curses of his team members and his own wife ringing in his ears:

"You piece of trash, go to hell!"