"Wretched ant! I will cast you into purgatory, summon the fires of destruction to gnaw ceaselessly at your soul. Then you will discover that even a swift death is a distant, unreachable luxury..." The woman's cold, teeth-clenched voice contained a peculiar power of the soul. Even pseudo-god-level powerhouses would instinctively feel fear, yet Eluxier remained calm throughout.
More precisely, it was indifference. His tranquil gaze seemed to have transcended fear—and life and death alike.
"How pitiful..." Eluxier sighed. "You, an existence that does not exist—once the will truly returns, you who have fulfilled your mission will be nothing more than a phantom. If we are to speak of 'lowliness,' then before disappearance, you and I are no different."
The moment those words left his lips, the malice in the woman's eyes surged. "You do not understand true eternity and immortality at all! I have decided—your ** and soul will suffer endless torment, while your eyes, I will keep them, so you may witness the end of this world with your own eyes! At that time, you will hate your choice, hate this inescapable fate!"
"Regrettably, my ** and soul have long reached their end." Eluxier no longer looked at the woman. His gaze turned to the cracked, withered wooden staff in his hand. Within the fissures at death's door, a tiny new sprout seemed to emerge, heralding hope. "But I will watch. I will keep watching. I will not hate. Quiliana... no, Blanche, you need not hate either, because in your eyes, there is more than hate..."
Before he could finish, Eluxier's body shuddered and instantly scattered into particles, vanishing. The woman slowly spread open her hand, crackling with lightning. In her palm lay two bloodied eyeballs.
His final words seemed to echo beside her ears. The malice in the