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”He’s as strong as a monster.”

Modus stood at a distance, watching the Blood Erosion Tyrant battle within the city, and remarked.

At the same time, he severely doubted whether his own darkened self could accomplish such feats, could reach the heights a hero ought to achieve.

”....”

Hikari had his brow deeply furrowed.

At this moment, the power displayed by the Blood Erosion Tyrant was entirely different from what he anticipated, he hadn’t used any abilities related to light or shadow, clearly differing greatly from the shadow of the Lord of Light and Shadow, as Hikari had anticipated.

If he were to be a propagator, his behavior didn’t fit the image Hikari had in mind, prompting him to contemplate further, speculating on his identity.

....

Not long after, the Blood Erosion Tyrant walked out over the bodies of countless strong enemies within the city, leaving a path paved with blood and corpses behind him. The once prosperous inner city now lay in ruins, and the azure symbol of the City Defense Array had silently shattered.

Seemingly from the battle’s end, or perhaps from boredom, the Blood Erosion Tyrant reverted to his original form, moving forward like an ordinary young man, arriving at the castle reserved for the Lord.

The castle’s gates were inlaid with gold and jade, a single door exuding immense opulence, and behind this opulence lay countless taxes of the common people. The seemingly grand and magnificent door was, in reality, the Gate of Hell, forged with blood and oppression.

”He’s here! He’s here!”

The two guards at the door trembled as they spoke.

They exuded a clearly stronger aura than those previous ones, donned in the most splendid Lord’s Guard Armor, and the armor was inscribed with runes, evidently extraordinary.

However, at this moment, they were barely maintaining composure, with almost collapsing will, their faces deathly pale.

[Blood Erosion Tyrant]

This guy actually appeared!

Unlike the uneducated common folk, as guards of the Lord, they were required to possess sufficient knowledge and insight, to serve as the Lord’s façade, so they had to learn some basic knowledge.

In those noble circles, the name [Blood Erosion Tyrant] was always a taboo, for the burden these words carried was too heavy.

It wasn’t merely a title, but a phenomenon, a... walking humanoid catastrophe.

The Blood Erosion Tyrant paid no heed to compassion and morality, cared not for worldly evaluations, and was indifferent to being deemed evil. He merely followed his most direct desires and feelings, and would act upon them directly.

Due to bad aristocratic practices, the Blood Erosion Tyrant often took a disliking to them, leading to their entire family being ascended. Thus, nobles defined the Blood Erosion Tyrant as pure evil.

More terrifyingly, his utter malignance was backed by absolute might, allowing him to do as he pleased with impunity. No one could stop him.

This was the Blood Erosion Tyrant in the backdrop.

Absolute violence, absolute freedom, absolute self, an existence that shook the nobility of the entire world with fear.

....

In the depths of the castle, in an opulent room themed in gold and crimson, laid with thick velvet carpets, hung with prestigious oil paintings.

Lord Gares sat at a gigantic dining table enough for five or six people, with the table laden with greasy delicacies like roast suckling pig and honey-glazed ham.

He was obese, wearing a sumptuous robe embroidered with intricate family crests in gold thread, adorning his fingers were rings of various gemstones. He tore off a large piece of meat with bone, taking a fierce bite, the grease dripping down his thick chin, staining his magnificent robe.

But soon, he frowned.

Looking at the steward kneeling on one knee before him, body trembling slightly behind his report, he muttered indistinctly, ”You’re saying my territory was attacked by the Blood Erosion Tyrant from history? And now there’s heavy casualties in the city?”

His tone was noticeably filled with skepticism and impatience, as if he wasn’t really concerned.

This wasn’t because Gares was particularly courageous, but because he deeply believed this was nonsense, likely a noise intentionally created by someone.

The Blood Erosion Tyrant?

That was a figure sealed in historical records and terror stories, how could it possibly appear in his territory!

The so-called turmoil outside, in his view, was most likely created by some blind fool, or more likely a trick concocted by one of his own sons eyeing his position, using a name to blind him.

”It’s true, absolutely true.”

The steward buried his head lower, his voice laced with desperate earnestness, ”The Blood Erosion Tyrant is terrifyingly powerful, the city gate was shattered with a single strike, the City Defense Army and esteemed guest lords suffered heavy casualties, we... we should escape through the secret passage quickly!”

”Ha.”

Lord Gares sneered, tossing the half-eaten bone onto the silver platter, which clattered loudly. He picked up a silk napkin, wiping his hands and mouth, his gaze filled with disdain and an arrogant sense of control over everything.

”Back then, when I was fighting for the inheritance, I used a similar trick to fool that old undying of mine. So now he’s dead, do you think the same trick could fool me?”

He leaned forward slightly, a playful expression like a cat toying with a mouse on his fat face, and asked, ”Tell me, Galosi, which son did you collude with? Exactly which little bastard couldn’t wait and dared to scheme against me? Let me skin him alive!”

His threat of skinning was no mere exaggeration, but a literal one—he wouldn’t hesitate even if it were his own son.