Lu Huayu's cruelty did not lie in the Blood-Coagulating Powder. He had thrown that and the Tracking Powder, which let the crows find their enemies, to kill the assassins from the start, along with a few other poisons that killed without a trace.
Back then, his thinking had been simple: kill every last one of those pests.
But later, in the carriage, when he began to suspect Prince Holmes had been sent out as expendable bait, Lu Huayu also put a mixture of Itch Powder, Endless-Yawning Powder, and Immobility Powder in his hand.
When he realized Prince Holmes seemed to know nothing about his own predicament, the ruthless chief steward dumped the mixture on the ground. The powders were already mixed and could not be recovered. Whoever ran into them would just be unlucky.
Anyone hit by them would probably rather turn into a block of blood jelly. Drowsiness and itching came in waves, yet they could not move at all.
Few people in Toril made a point of developing prank powders like these. The Undead were different. None of them would die anyway, and killing someone to cost them experience only mattered if they cared about it. Making someone who had crossed them suffer might feel more satisfying.
But Lu Huayu, who had only tested the powders on the Undead, had overlooked one thing: their senses were severely dulled.
So when the Goblin Supreme God withdrew his oppressive aura and began swatting at the Undead, agonized howls rose from the mountainside.
Prince Holmes, who had only just recovered, jumped in fright. He could not help grabbing the carriage window and looking over. Those screams clearly came from people of Imbutu.
Most people in this world spoke Common, but every country still had its own distinct accent. Prince Holmes could