Chapter 23

On Earth, there is a famous saying in Sui Xiong's motherland: children are like flowers in a garden, growing sturdily under the sunshine and warmth of the motherland.

In this otherworld, which clearly lacks such warmth, the young flower buds do not grow quite as sturdily; some wither, some fade, and some bloom without bearing fruit... and then there are the rare few who, despite bearing fruit, turn out to be absolute freaks.

Look, the orc nicknamed "Blood Hand" before us is a classic example of such a freak.

"He wants us to hand over a 'legendary treasure,' or else he'll go slaughter innocent villagers... Gerald, has this guy lost his mind, or is he just mentally unstable?" Sui Xiong pondered for a long while, unable to grasp this god-tier logic, and finally had to ask for enlightenment.

However, Gerald could not provide a reasonable answer either; he was just as baffled.

Being kind does not mean being stupid. Taking random villagers they don't even know hostage to threaten them... this was simply an insult to their intelligence!

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Gerald couldn't help but ask. "Why would I trade a precious treasure just to keep you from killing these villagers? Wouldn't it be easier if I just wiped you all out?"

Luer clearly anticipated this response, and he smirked triumphantly. "You could certainly kill me, but I've already had my subordinates scatter. If you don't give me that bracelet, they will act immediately and slaughter every civilian they can get their hands on!"

"Make your choice. Do you care more about a mere piece of treasure, or the lives of those innocent people?"

His smile was wicked and vile; his short, stubby nose nearly turned up, and sticky saliva dripped down his fangs, emitting a nauseating stench in the sunlight.

Gerald laughed in anger, intending to land a punch right on his face to help him "re-forge" himself so he could be a good person in his next life—if he even had one. But Sui Xiong called him off.

Heh... I have never seen such a shameless scoundrel! Sui Xiong sneered, his killing intent overflowing. You can't beat me in a PK, so you go after the newbies I'm power-leveling? Heh... heh heh heh... If I don't kill him until he deletes his account and gets lost, making him too terrified to ever log in again, I won't be able to clear my mind!

"Your Majesty, what do you intend to do?"

"Give him the bracelet," Sui Xiong said coldly. "Once the matter is resolved, I will notify you."

Gerald was shocked. "What?! Give the 'Void Gaze' to him? To this despicable, shameless villain?"

"Give it to him. Then turn around and leave. Do not look back."

From Sui Xiong's chilling tone, Gerald realized something and secretly shuddered.

He understood that this ridiculously wicked orc bandit had thoroughly enraged the great Void Mask, and a miserable end awaited this fellow.

To enrage a true god and then foolishly carry the holy relic that houses the god's avatar on one's person—what kind of fate would such an incredibly stupid person meet?

The kind-hearted Gerald no longer wished to dwell on it; he feared that thinking too much would give him nightmares.

He took the Bone Bracelet off his right wrist and tossed it toward Luer. Too lazy to watch the greedy bandit scramble to catch the treasure and revel in his ecstatic, ugly display, he turned and left.

He walked quickly, partly because he did not want to witness the tragic end about to befall this guy, and partly because he felt disgusted.

The orc bandit's conduct could no longer be described as merely evil or ugly; it was as repulsive as rotting, putrid meat. Gerald knew he was no fly or dung beetle, and he simply couldn't force himself to stay near such a thing.

Luer couldn't care less about this stupid, bleeding-heart fool; his attention was now entirely consumed by the Bone Bracelet he had just obtained.

As the rumors had claimed, this treasure contained immense magical power. Although its magical aura didn't look dazzling on the surface—seeming like something an adventurer of a few years could afford—the moment he gripped the bracelet, he could feel the magical power within was so abundant, it was practically infinite!

He tried to put the bracelet on, only to find that what was a bracelet for a giant was far too large for him to wear as one. After pondering for a moment, he hung it around his neck, using it as a collar.

Although... even as a collar, it seemed a bit too large.

But he didn't care anymore. The moment he put on the "collar," a flash of white light appeared before his eyes, and he felt an endless surge of power rising from the depths of his heart. He felt incredibly powerful, confident, and seemingly omnipotent. For a moment, he felt a heroic arrogance: "If Heaven wants to destroy me, I will defy Heaven; if the gods stand in my way, I will slay the gods." His aura was so intense that even the surrounding grass and trees trembled and bowed in submission.

"What a fine treasure!" he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

After laughing, he turned to his subordinates and asked triumphantly, "What do you think of this treasure?"

The next instant, his smile froze on his face.

What met his eyes were not the subordinates he had spent years with, but lumps of flesh, soft and sticky, waving countless tentacles and emitting strange, eerie cries.

Luer gasped and instinctively retreated several steps until he bumped into a tree, only then steadying himself.

But he immediately felt something was wrong; the sensation coming from his back wasn't the hard texture of a tree, but something soft and sticky, as if it were trying to glue his body to it.

He struggled hard and finally managed to pull himself away from the adhesive substance. Looking back, he saw that where the forest should have been, there was no trace of trees—only tentacles, large and small, dancing wildly in a chaotic mess.

Looking closely, he could vaguely see faces on those tentacles, faces that looked somewhat familiar.

He couldn't help but look closer, and the blurry faces gradually became clear. Covered in fur, hideous and ugly, with short, stubby noses, fangs protruding over thick lips, and scars on their faces...

Suddenly, it dawned on him.

Those were the faces of his subordinates, the members of the Orc Wolf Rider Band!

In that very instant, the faces that hadn't been clear before all became distinct; they were unmistakably the faces he knew! Yet, there was no trace of their usual ferocity or obedience on these faces; instead, they were filled with terror, deathly still, and tinged with the pale, sickly hue of a corpse.

Luer roared loudly, swiftly drawing his scimitar, and stood guard cautiously.

"You... what are you things!" he bellowed, brandishing his blade to bolster his courage. "How dare you play tricks in front of Lord Blood Hand! Do you believe I won't hack you all into pieces!"

A strange, mocking laughter suddenly rang in his ears. He swung his blade at the source of the sound without hesitation, but it hit nothing.

Turning around, he saw a monster with an orc's face but a body made entirely of tentacles, lacking any fixed form, floating in the air and watching him with dead, hollow eyes.

A sharp sound, like cat claws scraping against steel, came from what seemed to be its neck.

"Come back, return to us."

Voices came from all directions, repeating "Come back, come back." These voices were high or low, old or young, but all were deathly still, devoid of any vitality.

Yet, if one listened closely, one could clearly hear endless joy within those voices.

Luer let out a miserable scream and, brandishing his scimitar, charged toward the direction with the fewest monsters.

As a habitual bandit, he was certainly afraid of death, but even if he were to die, he absolutely could not die at the hands of these bizarre monsters!

Intuition told him that if he fell into the hands of these monsters, he would likely find it difficult even to die!

"King of Beasts (God of Orcs), please protect me!" he prayed, running forward with all his might, desperate to leave those monsters far behind.

Yet, for some reason, even though he was sprinting wildly, he felt as if he hadn't moved forward at all; the scenery around him remained completely unchanged.

Looking down, he saw that beneath his feet was not solid earth, but something that was writhing, with cold slime flowing across its surface, submerging the tops of his feet.

Luer screamed like a madman, swinging his blade wildly in every direction. Though he hit nothing, the action seemed to restore his courage, and he even managed to steady his footing.

"Come on! Lord Luer isn't afraid of death!"

Those things with strange tentacles and the faces of his subordinates closed in quickly. Though they weren't very strong, they were both viscous and tough; his sharp magic scimitar couldn't even leave a mark on them.

Driven to a dead end, Luer gritted his teeth and fought desperately. If one slash didn't work, he used two or three; if the blade wasn't enough, he used his fists and feet, even resorting to biting.

He could no longer remember how long it had been since he was in such a pathetic state. His thoughts gradually grew chaotic and muddled, as if filled with semi-solid grease—sticky and indistinct.

He didn't know how much time had passed. His scimitar was gone, his limbs had lost all strength, and even his innate weapons—his teeth—ached so much he couldn't bite.

Those tentacle-covered things finally defeated him, binding him tightly and constricting him until he could barely breathe.

His vision began to blur. Extreme exhaustion made every breath a torture to his lungs, yet compared to the pain deep within his skull, the agony in his chest was nothing.

The pain rising from the depths of his brain was so unbearably itchy and sharp that he wished he could take an axe to his own head, smash it open, scoop out his brains, and trample them into the dirt.

But he could do nothing; he could only watch helplessly as a massive tentacle, also bearing a blurred face, slowly approached him. A large mouth filled with tiny teeth appeared on the tentacle, the countless teeth grinding against each other to produce a shrill sound.

For a fleeting moment, he felt he should pray, but his chaotic mind could no longer provide a clear answer.

To whom should he pray? How should he pray? He remembered none of it.

In the next instant, he even forgot the very concept of "praying."

As he was wrapped by the tentacles and fed into that enormous mouth, he finally saw the face on the giant tentacle.

It was his own face.

The last shred of clarity in his mind collapsed, leaving only endless, viscous chaos. The bandit leader, now nothing more than a humanoid shell, grinned, revealing a grotesque smile.

"Heh... hehe... wahahahaha..."