Chapter 457

It's really a pity.

If we had met Lord Shi Lei a few years earlier, perhaps my son wouldn't have died.

As everyone knows, the Broca race is the Wendigo, one of the Sarkaz Ten Royal Courts. They are one of the most glorious races among the many Sarkaz branches.

When he left Kazdel to join the emperor of Ursus, many people didn't understand why he did it.

The reason for this was that Broca's only son had contracted a very severe Originium-related illness.

Given the medical standards and living conditions in Kazdel at that time, it was impossible to save his son's life.

Only by serving the Emperor of Ursus can one obtain the Originium inhibitor that sustains his son's life.

Broca to the Ten Royal Courts for help, but no leader offered assistance. If he wanted to ensure the continuation of the Wendigo race, he had no choice but to submit to Ursus.

Even so, Broca remained steadfast in his principles and refused to lay a hand on his fellow Sarkaz.

Therefore, he volunteered to take on the mission to fight the Demons in the northern ice plains. This was not only to defend the border for Ursus, but also to protect this land.

Broca knew how those Sarkaz insulted him behind his back.

Traitor, bandit—those are mild terms. Loyal to the country, sellout—these are the harshest labels you can use.

Broca didn't care what outsiders said. As a father, all he wanted was for his son to live.

Unfortunately, joining the Ursus Emperor might not have been a good choice. The power of the Northern Demon exceeded their expectations. Many of Wendigo's relatives from the collateral branches perished in battles against the Demons.

This led the Broca, who originally wanted to perpetuate their race, to their doom instead.

Later, only he and his son remained as Pureblood Wendigo. This meant that the Wendigo generation was on the verge of extinction.

Perhaps it was at the behest of the Ursus Emperor, or perhaps the Dukes withheld supplies along the way. As time went on, less and less Originium inhibitor were being sent to the North.

The rest, as everyone knows, is history.

Broca's son died as a result, leading to a complete break between him and Ursus. He then led his men to the northern ice plains to establish a guerrilla base.

As I was lost in thought, a voice reached my ears.

"Father."

The familiar yet unfamiliar voice startled Broca slightly, leaving him somewhat incredulous.

One second I was walking the streets of the Central City District, and the next I was in Ursus.

Before him stood his child, who had passed away many years ago, his cheeks pale from the biting snow.

"..."

The moment Broca saw his son, he felt his breath catch in his throat. His most vulnerable side was exposed, and he couldn't calm down for a long time.

He opened his mouth, and the biting wind and snow around him instantly rushed into his mouth; the sensation was so real.

Staring at the other person's face, Broca's eyes welled up with tears, and his voice trembled with a sob:

"Child..."

He knew it was fake, but he still couldn't suppress his excitement. Even if it was a dream or an illusion, Broca wanted to see his son a little longer.

Speaking of which, there is a Shapeshifter in the Ten Royal Courts who can change his appearance and body shape at will.

Broca wasn't familiar with him, but he knew about the other's ever-changing abilities. Perhaps the son before him was one of the Shapeshifter's clones, ready to launch a fatal attack when he let his guard down.

Perhaps people really are forgetful.

Broca his son the most important thing in his life. But six or seven years after his death, he could hardly remember what the boy looked like.

As a father, Broca he deserved to die. He instinctively reached out, wanting to touch the other's cheek. Even if it meant being ambushed at close range by Shapeshifter, he accepted the outcome.

"Father, it's so cold outside. Why don't we go inside the tent to talk?"

The other person hunched over slightly as they spoke and walked towards the tent to the side. Their pale complexion and sickly demeanor were so much like their son's.

Watching the Shapeshifter's retreating figure, Broca followed after a moment of silence. Inside the tent, a fire was burning, trying to melt away the wind and snow that had intruded upon the area.

He moved slightly closer to the fire and was surprised to feel the warmth of the flames. It was as if what he was seeing was not a figment of his imagination, but something that truly existed.

"Father, I'm so tired."

Broca's son, looking exhausted, came over and hugged the armor on his body.

Can I hold you and sleep for a while?

Broca did not answer; he was mentally prepared for a sudden attack by the Shapeshifter.

But after a long time, nothing unusual happened.

This made him look serious. He turned his head to look at his son, who was holding him as he took a nap, and felt his heart almost melt.

"You're Shapeshifter, aren't you? If so, then give me a quick death and stop impersonating him."

Broca wanted to kill the imposter, but looking at his son's face, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was waiting for the Shapeshifter to make the first move, so that he wouldn't have so much psychological burden when he retaliated.

My physical abilities are definitely much stronger than the opponent's, and I also have the protection of the Vision.

At worst, we can trade blows, tough it out, and then catch the Shapeshifter and deliver a fatal blow at close range.

"Um?"

His son seemed to have been woken up; he rubbed his sleepy eyes groggily, looked up, and asked:

"Father, what's wrong?"

Dead memories seem to be awakened.

Broca his fists, unable to bring himself to strike that face, and issued a warning:

"If you're going to do it, do it quickly, stop dawdling."

"Father, what are you saying?"

Seeing that the Shapeshifter was unwilling to admit it, Broca to tear off the imposter's disguise.

But he couldn't do it.

Even knowing the other party was an imposter, Broca could not convince himself to harm his deceased loved one.

Only by forcing the Shapeshifter to attack first can he retaliate with a clear conscience.

"Do I have to force you?"

The son, suspected to be an imposter, was startled, his body tensing up as he shrank back, looking over in terror.

"Father, your eyes are terrifying. What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?"

"Ughhhhh!"

Broca it anymore and punched the tent next to him, instantly tearing a Cave Entrance in it.

The howling wind and snow outside poured in, causing his son to shiver involuntarily.

"You think it's inconvenient for me to fight while I'm wearing armor? No problem, come on."

Broca removed his armor and all his defenses in front of him. He was unwilling to endure this torment any longer, even though seeing his son should have been a joyous occasion.

If the Shapeshifter do launch a surprise attack, Broca the Vision's armor.

"Father, you're not acting right today. Is it because the Originium inhibitor hasn't arrived yet? It's okay, I can hold on for a while longer. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. We all know you've done your best. Rest for a bit, I'll go find Uncle to fix the tent."

After saying that, the other person actually turned and left.

Only Broca remained, standing blankly beside the breached Cave Entrance. He had willingly removed his armor, so why hadn't the Shapeshifter made a move?

Is this an illusion, or a dream?

He couldn't tell them apart; he was starting to get confused.

Ines was positioned in the middle of the group, forming Pincer Attack movement with W against Heredrey.

He had already repaid Manfred's kindness by deliberately revealing his whereabouts in the Central City District. It's highly unlikely he'll do anything like stabbing someone in the back again.

Although Ines knew Heredrey wouldn't cause any more trouble, Ines still had to go through the formalities. She and W kept a close eye on him to prevent any unforeseen problems.

Shi Lei was at the very front of the group, with his three girlfriends trailing behind by one or two body lengths. His silhouette was like a lighthouse in the sea, guiding those behind him.

Ines knew that the City Lord had shielded everyone, so there was no need to worry about being attacked suddenly. Although the group was traveling through the dangerous fog, they were as leisurely as if they were on a spring outing exploring tourist attractions.

The fog on the streets was so thick that even Ines, a master of stealth, couldn't find the enemy.

We can only follow Shi Lei and continue forward, and if we encounter enemies, we can launch a counterattack.

"Whoosh!"

Suddenly, a pebble hit Ines in the face.

Just as she turned around to look, the white fog around her instantly transformed into a different scene.

Located on the northeastern border of Sargon, this is a farmhouse full of pastoral charm. The warm sunshine shines on the grassland, but it doesn't look warm at all.

Ines looked in the direction of the sound and saw four children of varying sizes laughing wildly:

"Look! I hit her! Haha!"

"Well done, now it's my turn."

Ines seemed somewhat dazed, as if her brain hadn't quite processed what was happening. Unlike Logos and Broca, she didn't seem to realize that this was a hallucination.

Perhaps only individuals with strong Psychic Power can remain conscious within a dream world. Just like in a dream, some people don't even realize that 'this is a dream.'

"Whoosh!"

Seeing the other person make a throwing motion, Ines instinctively took two steps back, causing the stone to miss.

This angered one of the children, who led three others over aggressively.

"What right do you, a lowly commoner, have to hide? Stand still!"

Ines's mind went blank, but she gradually began to understand what was happening. These men, who appeared to be the farmer's sons, were collectively bullying her.

For no apparent reason, a surge of anger welled up inside me.

"I'm talking to you, are you mute?"

The little boy who was leading the group cursed and kicked her hard with his right foot. Ines cried out in pain in her abdomen and fell backward uncontrollably into the muddy ground next to the farmhouse.

She turned her head to look at the puddles in the mud, which reflected a tender face of a five or six-year-old.

Ines's curved Blackhorn, covered in mud, looked remarkably like a Sarkaz feature.

"Look at her, doesn't she look like Demon Race?"

"Now that you mention it, it does seem a bit like it. Could it be the offspring of Caprini and that Demon Race?"

"Hahaha, that's possible."

"Those Demon Race should be killed! These lowly creatures who waste food and land deserve to die!"

Ines remained silent, but her anger burned ever brighter. Hearing their laughter and insults, she rose and rushed to the wooden fence, grabbing a pitchfork.

Seeing that things were going badly, the four people took off running. The little boy who was in the lead fell down in the panic, and the other three ran away without looking back, showing no intention of helping him at all.

"No, don't do this..."

"I was just kidding, don't be angry. At worst, I won't joke with you anymore."

"Please, please let me go. I'll give you anything you want..."

Ines gripped the pitchfork and plunged it into the man's chest without hesitation. Crimson blood flowed out, along with a strange sense of exhilaration. She found a fire and burned the corpse and the farmhouse to the ground.

When Ines regained consciousness, she found herself in a Birch Forest in Kazdel. She clutched a dagger, a sharp pain shooting through her head. The curved part of her Blackhorn had been cut off. With a little polishing, it would look exactly like Sarkaz.

Suddenly, Ines heard the sounds of fighting coming from the woods. Despite her pain, she quietly went to investigate.

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Chapter 533 A Thousand Miles Away (4K)

Ines held her breath and tiptoed toward the source of the sound, afraid of giving herself away.

As she slowly approached, the sounds of fighting gradually subsided, indicating that the battle was over.

Ines hid behind a thick, large birch tree, cautiously peeking out. She saw five adult Sarkaz, all lying in pools of blood.