Kent stood tall, his grip firm on Simon’s hair, forcing the sobbing young man to stay kneel down on the ground.
Simon was in a pitiful sight—tears streaked his face, his lips trembling, and mucus running from his nose. His once proud demeanor was gone, replaced by the unfiltered terror of a man facing his death.
“Tell me, How do you want to die?” Kent asked, his voice calm yet laced with menace.
Simon’s response was barely audible through his sobs. “P-please… spare my life… I’ll beg you… if you w-want…” His words dissolved into incoherent murmurs as fresh waves of tears poured down.
Behind Kent, his fearsome pets were less than sympathetic. The Fire Kirin, Kavi, leaned down to Simon’s eye level, its fiery mane crackling as it smirked. “How about we roast him alive? Slow-cooked, so he has time to think about his mistake of going against master?”
The serpent beast Jabil leaned closer, his scaled body shimmering with menace. “No, no, let me wrap around him and squeeze the life out. It’s a classic, but it never gets old.”
Phoenix Lady Ruby stood aloof, her fiery wings folding elegantly. “You’re all too violent. Why not burn him to ashes with a single strike? Clean and efficient.”
Simon’s cries grew louder as he cried helplessly. “N-no! Please! I’ll do anything! Just let me live!” His wide eyes darted between Kent and the mocking beasts.
Kavi snorted. “Anything? Can you sing? Dance? Maybe you’d make a good court eunuch.”
Jabil coiled closer, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, I’d pay to see him try. He’s already doing a great impression of a worm.”
The three beasts laughed loudly, their mocking voices echoing through the clearing. Simon’s sobs only grew more desperate. “P-please! I’m begging you! My father—he’ll avenge me!”
Kent arched an eyebrow. “Your father? Jason!? Is he going to cry like you, too?”
Simon’s trembling lips parted, but no words came out. Kent sighed, shaking his head. “Pathetic.”
He raised his fist slowly, golden energy crackling around it as he prepared to deliver a decisive blow. But just as he was about to strike, a sultry voice echoed in his mind, smooth and commanding.
“Wait…”
Kent froze mid-motion, his expression flickering with annoyance. “What now?”
It was the Goddess of Lust, her presence resonating from his soul space. “Don’t kill him yet.”
Kent’s brow furrowed. “Why not? He’s a irritating coward. Hardly worth sparing.”
The goddess chuckled softly. “Exactly. He’s a coward, which makes him useful. Keep him alive. Break his cultivation, strip him of his power, and use him as a shield or decoy. He might save your life in a tight spot.”
Kent fell in a thought after hearing her suggestion, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at Simon. Slowly, a smile crept across his face—one that sent chills down Simon’s spine.
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“N-no! No, please!” Simon screamed, his voice cracking. “Don’t do it! My father will destroy you! You dare—”
Before Simon could finish, Kent’s palm pressed firmly against Simon’s head, silencing him instantly. Golden mana core energy surged from Kent’s hand, flowing into Simon’s body like a raging torrent.
Simon’s body convulsed as the energy targeted his ‘shirochakra’, the eighth chakra located at the crown of his head. A loud crack reverberated through the air as the chakra shattered, golden light cascading downward.
Simon’s screams were deafening. “No! Stop! Please, stop!”
Kent’s voice was cold, almost detached. “You don’t deserve to beg.”
The energy surged downward, breaking each chakra in sequence. With every shattering, Simon’s cultivation level plummeted—from Supreme Magus to Mortal Magus, then to Grand Master Magus. His body convulsed violently as he felt his life’s work throwing in dust bin.
“Please! I’ll serve you! I’ll do anything!” Simon wailed, his voice hoarse.
The seventh chakra shattered. Then the sixth. One by one, Simon’s cultivation descended, his body weakening with every break. His youthful vigor faded; his skin began to wither, and his posture hunched like an old man burdened by time.
Finally, the last chakra broke with a resounding crack. Simon slumped forward, barely conscious, his once robust frame frail and decrepit. Kent stepped back, staring down at the pitiful figure with contempt.
“You’re no longer a Supreme Magus,” Kent said, his voice devoid of sympathy. “You’re nothing but a mortal now.”
Simon’s lips trembled as he tried to speak, but no words came. His body was too weak to even cry.
The Goddess of Lust’s voice echoed again in Kent’s mind. “Too violent but Good. something’s are necessary to perform. He’ll be useful like this. A broken dog is easier to control.”
“You’re right. He’ll make a perfect shield.” Kent sighed as he himself felt pity on Simon now. ‘Grown with golden spoon… broken like a waste glass’
–
In a dimly lit chamber filled with the faint glow of magical lanterns, Madam Clark stood at the center of the room.
On one side stood Fatty Ben, his round face tense with anticipation. On the other side were the Seven Witches, each one powerful and enigmatic in their own way.
Madam Clark’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “One of you will accompany Fatty Ben to the Spirit World. This is not a task for the faint-hearted. There is danger at every turn, and the price could very well be your life.”
The witches exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from stoic to contemplative. Fatty Ben shifted uncomfortably, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness.
Madam Clark continued, her tone grave. “You must decide now. If none of you volunteer, I will choose.”
The first witch, Liora, spoke, her voice hesitant. “I would go, Madam Clark, but… the risks… I have responsibilities here—”
Before she could finish, the seventh witch, Mohini, stepped forward. Her dark eyes burned with determination as she interrupted. “I will go.”
The room fell silent. The other witches turned to Mohini in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief.
Madam Clark’s gaze hardened. “Are you certain, Mohini? This is no small decision.”
Mohini lifted her chin, her voice unwavering. “I am certain. I am not afraid of death. If my sacrifice can ensure the young master’s success, then so be it.”
Fatty Ben looked at Mohini, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words. “You… you don’t have to—”
“I do,” Mohini said firmly, cutting him off. She turned to him, her expression softening slightly. “The Spirit World is no place for hesitation. You’ll need someone capable by your side.”
Madam Clark nodded slowly, respect evident in her eyes. “Very well. Mohini, you will accompany Fatty Ben. May the divine-witch guide your path.”
Fatty Ben stepped forward, holding a shimmering dimensional orb in his hand. “Are you ready?”