"Bastard!"
In a bloody turn of events no one had expected, the mad Camus completely ignored him.
Atop the lighthouse, Weihle finally lost his composure.
But as he raised his cane and a tangible gray-white substance spread outward from him, his figure abruptly stalled, restrained by some invisible attack.
At the same time, the gray-white substance, which seemed capable of corroding everything, was suppressed by layers of darkness.
"In this situation, just pretend we don't exist."
Cassandra's slightly mocking voice rang out, repeating Weihle's earlier line word for word.
Although she didn't know where the other man had come from, she could tell that Fu Qian was no friend of the Native Council.
Besides, judging by the strength he'd displayed, he was at least a demigod.
With Chervus also recovering at full speed, it would soon be two against one down below.
With the situation suddenly looking much better, Cassandra decisively adopted Weihle's earlier strategy, holding him back so he couldn't interfere below.
Her actions and words now only stoked Weihle's anger further.
Unfortunately, he hadn't managed to break free right away. No matter how bold he was, he wouldn't dare turn his back on a hostile demigod now.
The clash atop the lighthouse was no more than a trivial sideshow to Fu Qian, who had just landed a successful Internal Organ Critical Hit.
As someone who never blindly assumed the best, the first thing he did after ripping out the organs was watch Ariel's reaction.
It turned out that unlike the shouting Weihle, Ariel—who was standing closer—not only didn't rush over to stop him, but even lowered his gloved hand.
Such strange behavior couldn't help but raise a question: had he already achieved his "goal"?
As the thought crossed his mind, Fu Qian stared expressionlessly at the wound