Black-clad Layla then began thinking about Bradman's situation in Akatlia. Though he had ventured deep into enemy territory, with his strength, there was probably no one in all of Akatlia who could harm him now, right?
Even an army of a hundred thousand could not stop a warrior of that caliber.
"But that's all right. There really aren't many people in this world who can truly be called formidable. There are only three or five of them, and they are basically the sort who never associate with one another until death. If we win this war... I really want to persuade Bradman to retire somewhere secluded with me..."
Black-clad Layla murmured softly to herself, then fell silent as footsteps slowly approached.
"Miss, your soup is ready. Please drink it quickly. I specially added lots of Heart-Devouring Powder today!" A maid slowly entered. She was Layla's personal attendant, someone Layla trusted completely.
Black-clad Layla gave a soft acknowledgment. Since it was her personal maid, she paid no heed as she picked up the bowl and drank it in one gulp. Heart-Devouring Powder was a deadly poison; at this time, few creatures could withstand such venom. Yet black-clad Layla relied on it for her cultivation.
What she cultivated was magic of destruction and chaos, not dark magic. This was something people easily misunderstood. It was not as though destruction magic did not exist in this world—for instance, Gildarts's splitting magic...
Destruction magic had no particular purpose. Put simply, it was the power to destroy everything.
Of course, it was not merely destruction. Destruction had its own artistry, and there were many methods of achieving it—violent explosions, puppet control, deadly poison, and so on.
In terms of strength, black-clad Layla was already close to Level 20. There was truly no one in this