One-Eyed Monster

Behind Estev’s terrifying smile, one half of his body dripped with blood.

Despite losing his left arm, he still stood firm, his right hand tightly gripping the Smoke he controlled. The Smoke now bound the Soul Puppet securely, giving it no room to breathe.

The dripping blood quickly stained the ground red, like an aloof, proud rose blooming with solitary defiance upon a desolate plain.

What indomitable spirit! What astounding courage! What unyielding determination!

For his promise, Estev was willing to sacrifice an arm. To protect the secret of this mountain, he was willing to sacrifice his entire self!

This is a man worthy of respect!

Milo couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration. He thought Estev was someone worth befriending—reliable, true to his word, a truly trustworthy partner.

Estev had every opportunity to leave Milo and the others to fend for themselves while he went to stop those three strange individuals from destroying the stone. Yet, he hadn’t. He knew that if he left, the Soul Puppet would erupt, endangering those who fought alongside him.

To ensure their safety, he chose to stand his ground!

Such a person would be an incredibly strong ally on the battlefield.

Having someone like him as a partner would bring immense reassurance.

This is how heroes act; this is a warrior’s choice...

The thought that he would soon have to face such a heroic warrior as an enemy brought a pang of sadness to Milo.

Before them, the Soul Puppet had yet to falter. Milo’s Sword of Spirit Slayer needed to strike it once more, but first, he had to find a way to withdraw the blade.

At the same time, Milo realized Estev desperately needed medical attention for his bleeding.

This Soul Puppet had them completely pinned down. Although its Self-Explosion had been prevented, the death aura it had released still kept them rooted to the spot.

”Guard!” Just as Milo was lost in thought, Stan Sol had already commanded his Sharkmon. He ordered his Sharkmon to shield Estev’s wound, a gesture of respect.

Estev’s face had grown pale from excessive blood loss. If he wasn’t treated promptly, his life could truly be in danger.

But Estev still stood there, a faint smile on his lips, his resilience moving everyone present.

Milo gripped the Sword of Spirit Slayer tightly. He had to use his utmost power to keep the Soul Puppet suppressed, and he also needed to buy Estev some time.

”Brad!” Milo shouted. ”Give that warrior the Berserk Potion! Stop his bleeding!”

”Senior Milo! This isn’t appropriate!” Pedro was the first to voice a slight objection. Though he admired Estev’s actions, as a loyal follower of Kuyi Tulan, every step he took was dictated by their mission. He felt it was somewhat unsuitable to have Brad administer a Berserk Potion to a potential enemy, especially when they had all expended considerable Spirit Power and stamina dealing with the Soul Puppet.

The usually taciturn Brad stared blankly at Milo. Pedro and Milo were both his seniors; he didn’t know whose order to obey.

”Brad, follow orders,” Milo stated decisively as he activated his Substance Sensing Skill, intending to probe the Soul Puppet’s Exchange Elements.

”But...” Pedro still wanted to protest, but Brad didn’t hesitate. He deeply admired Estev’s resolve, believing that only true fighting enthusiasts would sacrifice their bodies in such a way.

This is the ultimate realm of Physique Technique... Brad thought.

”There’s no ’appropriate’ or ’inappropriate’!” Milo declared, holding out a hand. His eyes gleamed with a brilliant light, the external manifestation of his Substance Sensing Skill. ”The Alchemy Workshop always acts with integrity!”

”The Alchemy Workshop always acts with integrity!” These words made Joela and Brad stand even straighter, while Pedro felt a twinge of shame.

The Alchemy Workshop was honorable, unlike those Dark Associations. They always confronted others openly and fairly, never taking undue advantage—this was the Alchemy Workshop’s tradition.

”We do not engage an opponent unfairly when they are weakened. This is a matter of respect. Even when we win, we win honorably,” Milo’s long hair floated up completely, as if he were submerged in water. His eyes shone with a light that sent a chill down the spine.

”This is our reverence for a warrior, and also an acknowledgment of a worthy opponent,” Milo said quietly. His Substance Sensing Skill had already discerned the internal composition of the Soul Puppet; he hadn’t expected his gamble to pay off so perfectly.

Brad’s Berserk Potion could induce localized changes in the body. Once injected into Estev, a noticeable warmth spread through him. This warmth stopped the profuse bleeding from his wound, and the mangled flesh seemed to plump and mend with this comforting heat.

”Battle Pet!” Stan Sol quickly summoned his flames, intending to use them to treat Estev’s wound.

The searing heat of the flames on his wound didn’t elicit a single scream from Estev. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his teeth ground together. Enduring such treatment for his severed limb was no easy feat.

But Estev still stood strong, maintaining his grip on the Smoke. At the other end, the Soul Puppet was visibly shrinking. His complexion gradually returned from its deathly pallor, a clear sign that the aid from Milo and the others was working.

”Thank you, everyone!” Estev said to his temporary allies, his potential future opponents. His severed arm still danced through the air, leaving its three opponents—the Black Crow leaders—utterly bewildered.

A single severed arm handled three Black Crow leaders; this ancient pact was clearly an extraordinary form of spellcraft.

However, no one had the leisure to delve into this ancient art; they first had to deal with the fractured Soul Puppet.

Milo’s guess had been correct. His Substance Sensing Skill had identified the most crucial component of the Soul Puppet’s structure. It might have been a coincidence, but the method binding the Soul Puppet’s decaying flesh, bones, and deathly aura wasn’t some unknown Spellcraft; it was a spell Milo himself had invented.

The decaying flesh and deathly aura were linked by the Ant Connection Spell, a spell Milo had created. He’d never imagined it would be exploited by a Dark Wizard.

The spell was no longer a secret among professionals, but it was mostly used for sharing Spirit Vision. To use it to bind lifeless decaying flesh, deathly aura, and bones together like this... it was a heaven-defying application.

As the spell’s creator, Milo naturally knew how to dismantle it.

He released his grip on the Sword of Spirit Slayer and summoned one of his Exchange Beast ants.

”Consume!” Milo commanded, and the tiny ant scurried onto the Soul Puppet.

”Friend, our battle will be next,” Milo said, turning to Estev.

His voice carried a mix of reluctance and deep respect.

”It will be my honor to fight you,” Estev replied, also relaxing his grip. Milo’s ant was clearly effective; Estev could feel the struggling force in the Smoke diminish.

Everyone watched in astonishment.

Estev and Milo stood motionless. Behind them, the Soul Puppet disintegrated. Chunks of rotting flesh and pieces of bone collapsed, slumping to the ground like liquefying mire with wet splatters.