Tomorrow marks the mass release of Golden Tickets bonuses, followed by Power Stones the day after. Regarding the Power Stones, there will be a change which will be updated tomorrow. will not effect this week’s bonuses,
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Charl’s mind went blank for a moment, and when he regained his senses, the ecstatic joy on his face had been replaced by sheer terror. He began to retreat from the black-clothed figure, shaking his head frantically while uttering heart-wrenching pleas. 𝘪𝘳.𝘤𝑜𝑖.𝘤ℴ𝘮
“No, no, no! I’ve served the Old Alliance for so long, you can’t do this to me!”
“Although I’ve lost my power, I still hold many secrets of the Dragon Nation! I’m still valuable! Very valuable! I can continue to serve the Old Alliance! You can’t just abandon me like this!”
“Speak! Answer me! I’m a member of the Old Alliance, I have the right to appeal at the Sanctuary! Take me to the Sanctuary! Let me see our leader! Even you don’t have the right to decide my life or death!”
By the end of his rant, Charl was nearly hysterical, understandably so. He had almost glimpsed the light of hope, nearly escaping the Dragon Nation, only to be stopped at the last moment by the organization he had once served?
Charl felt a profound sense of betrayal and bitterness. Suddenly, as if realizing something, his expression quickly turned to anger.
“I know! It must be the Empress! Hero! You’ve betrayed us! You’re working for the Empress!!”
“Colluding with that Woman… Have you forgotten our Old Alliance’s mission for revenge? How can you face the others, let alone the deceased Lord Bal? How can you betray ‘Mother’ who gave us our power?”
On the surface, Charl seemed to have lost his sanity, hurling accusations and questions, but in reality, he was trying to buy time with his words.
They were close to the rendezvous point with Kael Technology, and as soon as he sensed something off about Hero, Charl discreetly used a transmitter in his pocket to signal Kael Technology for emergency assistance.
This move would undoubtedly put him at a disadvantage in future negotiations with Kael Technology, but at the moment, Charl’s only concern was to leave the Dragon Nation alive.
Distracting Hero with his words, Charl quietly moved back to the beast of burden. Then, in a sudden burst of action, he swiftly untied the ropes connecting the beast to the carriage. Mounting the beast in one fluid motion, he whipped it fiercely, intentionally targeting its previous wounds.
Pain stimulated the beast’s nerves, accustomed to interpreting pain as a command. It immediately began to sprint, carrying Charl away, leaving the six relic wielders behind without a backward glance.
Although Charl had abandoned them to escape alone, the expressions on the faces of the six relic wielders showed no resentment.
Despite their powers being “sealed” and unable to use their relics, making them no more than ordinary people with a bit of extra skill, they still continued to surround him. It was as if they were ready to sacrifice their lives to buy time for Charl’s escape.
Hero shook his head at this.
‘So be it…’
In the eyes of the six relic wielders, Hero remained still. The only difference was that he slightly lifted his forehead, revealing the face previously hidden in the shadow of his hat brim.
It was a pale, somewhat delicate face of a young man. At first glance, it gave off a sickly aura. But in the next moment, his eyes began to bleed, the crimson liquid pooling in his pupils, sketching a bizarre pattern akin to shattered jade.
Before the relic wielders could comprehend this eye technique, a scream from their comrade rang out. The first to fall, the one who had initiated the attack on Hero with an “Ice Bow”, clutched his chest in agony as though pierced by something. Ice quickly enveloped his body, the cold devouring his last breath of life, turning him into an ice statue in mere moments.
The next scream was even more agonizing. It came from the second attacker, the wielder of a “Staff”, whose fate was even grimmer than the first. His body burst into flames, turning him into a fireball in the blink of an eye. Once the flames died down, what remained was a charred, unrecognizable corpse.
None behind could escape, for they had all “attacked” Hero at the outset.
The Wind Blade wielder was sliced by his own blades, the chains that had once bound Hero’s limbs now strangled the corresponding wielder. The gun-wielder who had pierced Hero’s heart, clutched at the bloody hole now appearing in his own chest and collapsed. The last to realize, the axe-wielder, witnessing the tragic fate of his comrades and recalling his own “attack” on Hero, was consumed by fear.
“Devil… Devil!”
He turned to flee, utterly defeated in spirit. Sadly, he’d barely taken a step when his world spun wildly, ending with a sight of his own headless body collapsing to the ground, still in motion.
The entire ordeal lasted less than half a minute. By the end, all six of Charl’s meticulously trained relic-wielding warriors had perished.
It’s no wonder the last of the relic wielders crumbled. Each one effectively died by their own hand, a reflection of their own attacks.
This was the power of Hero.
A gift – or more accurately, a curse – bestowed upon him as a member of the “Special” race.
Five hundred years ago, under the shroud of the Miasma in the wastelands, certain races were born with innate special abilities. These abilities needed no learning; they were inherent from birth and lasted a lifetime.
Such races were collectively known as the “Specials” and due to their inherent powers, they held high status among various groups.
Except for one lineage.
Their innate ability was not like the others – not a better manipulation of Miasma, increased strength, or enhanced healing.
Their power was to inflict ‘retribution’ on their enemies.
That is, to return the damage received back to the attacker.
In the harsh wasteland environment of that time, this ability was almost laughably useless. The primary need of all races in the wastelands was survival, to better withstand natural disasters and Miasma monsters.
However, their ability meant at best, they could only take down a Miasma monster with them. And while the monsters were limitless, their numbers were finite. This disparity almost led to their extinction.
Such endings were common in the wastelands – one race after another going extinct was the cruel reality of that world.
But they were lucky, at least that’s what their ancestors believed.
At the brink of their extinction, they were discovered by ‘that person.’
Yes, the later Ashen Emperor.
At that time, ‘that person’ was not yet an emperor, merely a powerful warlord. But for their near-extinct race, he was a figure of immense stature.
What followed seemed like a dream to the ancestors, something beyond their wildest imaginations. With ‘that person’s’ help, their entire race was relocated to an absolutely safe haven, a sanctuary where they could thrive in peace and comfort.
Under the patronage of ‘that person,’ their lineage rapidly grew. New members sprouted like bamboo after rain, and their numbers swelled to several times their original size.
However, fate’s gifts always come with a price. Just as the ‘beasts of burden’ gained protection from humans by serving as mounts and were able to propagate in a controlled environment, becoming one of the most populous species among their kind, their race was no different.
𝑖𝘦.𝑐𝘰𝘮