"Fairy wine or oatmeal?" This was a popular cellared wine among the upper nobility.
Wayne nodded very politely to express his thanks.
"No, thank you."
The conversation between the two didn't feel like enemies at all, but rather like an old friends' reunion.
Aaron poured herself a cup of oatmeal wine. She disliked the mildness of fairy wine and preferred the passion of oatmeal, which always excited her.
"I didn't think this day would come." She gazed at Wayne opposite her, seemingly reminiscing about distant memories.
Wayne gently lifted off the hood draped over his head, revealing a withered face-dark, sallow, and without a shred of vitality. These were the traits of a Sequence 6 Living Dead.
"Miss Leila, we have always been waiting for your return."
Leila Aaron was the current-generation heir of the Aaron Family, and also its very last remaining member.
If Vade Wisker had been here, his jaw would surely have dropped. Earl Aaron, whom he believed to be in a dangerous plight, now seemed like a supreme authority.
Her gaze was deep as she rose unhurriedly, gazing down at Wayne from a superior height.
"What is your name?"
As an initiate, my codename is 9, but you may also call me Wayne, though I do not care for the name.
Bang, bang, bang!
The abrupt sound disrupted their conversation.
Wayne abruptly stood up, his expression extremely unsightly as he said, "I will go deal with a little mouse."
The castle was large, with an area spacious enough to accommodate a hundred people. Joey was darting around like a headless fly.
His heavy panting signaled the stamina he had expended.
Vade Wisker's forehead was oozing blood, left behind from an accidental sneak attack. It was hard to imagine that a transcendent captain of the Survey Corps would be driven to such a state by a group of ordinary initiates.
Bang!
A wooden door on his flank burst apart violently, fragments spraying in all directions, followed closely by a sharp blade.
Wade's gaze stalled as he looked closely. That figure was none other than Wayne, whom he had searched for in vain.
Boom, boom, boom!
Lacking transcendent abilities, the two relied on hand-to-hand combat, trading blows back and forth.
The more they fought, the more Wayne felt something was amiss. Following a whip kick, the two widened the distance between them, and his low voice sounded:
"You are very cunning!" He discovered that although Wade was covered in injuries of all sizes, his movements were completely unaffected.
Wade glanced indifferently at Wayne opposite him and smiled sinisterly:
"If I didn't do this, how would you come out?"
Clap, clap!
Clapping his hands, Wayne said, "As expected of a captain of the Withered Corps. I was wondering earlier why you wouldn't be in such a sorry state even without transcendent abilities. So you were waiting for me here. However, I am afraid I must disappoint you."
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
The moment Wayne's words fell, silver flash after silver flash flew out.
Those objects expanded rapidly within Wade's pupils, arriving before him in an instant. By the time Wade reacted, several bloody wounds had already appeared on his arm.
Had he not evaded his vital points at the very last moment, the consequences probably would have been very severe.
At that split second, seemingly sensing transcendent auras, his emotions fluctuated violently, and his brows knitted tightly together as if he had miscalculated something.
Feigning weakness had indeed drawn out Wayne, the mastermind behind the scenes, but the problem before him now was that the opponent seemed to have been prepared all along.
"Strange, isn't it?"
Wayne sneered, raising his hand to sweep out another silver flash. This time the speed was even faster, and Wisker didn't even have time to dodge before his chest was pierced.
The emotions that had managed to stabilize began to churn uncontrollably.
This time he experienced it firsthand: it was truly a transcendent ability.
He tried to draw his gun, pulling the trigger several times in succession. Wayne didn't make the slightest dodging motion, as though he had anticipated the result long ago.
"The decree hasn't disappeared?" Wade looked at the other party in astonishment. Since the decree hadn't vanished, it meant 0-013 was still sealing transcendent abilities with its power, making it very strange that Wayne could use his abilities.
Suddenly, as if thinking of something, he glared angrily at Wayne with an anxious expression, speaking one word at a time: "What did you do to her?"
The only thing he could think of was that the other party had already found the target and obtained something from there to circumvent the power of 0-013.
His gun seemed jammed; in the silent castle, only mechanical creaking sounds remained.
Ever since his appearance, Wayne had worn a wistful expression, his face shifting between eerie grins and stiffness. Yet upon hearing Wade's words, his gaze instantly turned chillingly abnormal.
"He must die, Miss Leila. No bonds of any restriction are needed." He let out a strange, cackling laugh like a deranged lunatic, his cold gaze locked onto Wade with unmasked murderous intent.
Wade took a deep breath, watching the other party with vigilance. Blood bubbled from the wound on his chest, and the successive injuries had already caused him to lose too much blood.
Rip!
Wayne unfolded the robe draped over his body, and only then did Wade realize what the objects attacking him earlier actually were.
They were flying daggers exuding a transcendent aura.
The decree only restricted the transcendent abilities of the transcendents themselves; it could not restrict transcendent items.
On second thought, this was indeed the case. If it could truly restrict all transcendent powers, the 0-013 Decree would not exist-the two concepts were paradoxical.
Wade tore off his blood-soaked clothes. The congealed blood clots adhered to the fabric and his skin, making him extremely uncomfortable.
His perfect muscle lines proved that his physique as a corps captain was still quite good.
The blood from his wounds had already stopped flowing. 0-013 only restricted the use of abilities; it didn't strip transcendents of their physical foundation. A body modified by potions possessed a sturdiness that ordinary people could not match.
A wound piercing through the chest-if this were an ordinary person, they would likely be dead by now.
He opened the cylinder of his revolver, pulled out a bullet, poured out the gunpowder inside, and applied it without hesitation to his wound.
Pulling out a lighter, he lit a cigarette, took a fierce drag, and then ignited the gunpowder. The stench of burning skin instantly filled his nostrils.
Through this series of actions, Wade didn't even frown.
Wayne's sallow, zombie-like face finally revealed a trace of astonishment. People always said their Necromancer Sect employed cruel methods and were unmitigated lunatics, but compared to them, the Wade opposite him was no less ruthless.
No matter how vicious they were, that was directed at others; they still cherished their own little lives.
Very few people could pull off self-mutilating acts like Wade's.
Damage inflicted by transcendent weapons left behind magical harm; it wasn't something that could be resolved just by bleeding a little.
Poison was quenched on Wayne's flying daggers, and the fact that Wade could endure it head-on already won three parts of his admiration.
In the silent, empty castle, only two figures stood in confrontation. In high-level duels, life and death transpired in a mere flash.
Besides, Wayne found it very strange: where had all his subordinates gone?
In the undetected darkness, Joey eliminated the last initiate. The dim gas lamp reflected his sallow face.
Looking at the weapon in his hand, he was already pondering, ready to charge into the washroom at any moment. Today marked the second time he had utilized the transcendent weapon 'Quenching'.
He had already learned its side effects. This mission had been assigned in a rush; he hadn't even eaten dinner, and he had already run to the restroom several times. Now, he felt exhausted all over.
Fortunately, it was almost midnight, when the Fortune Teller's abilities would refresh. He hoped that would help him bypass the side effects.
Trailing behind Wade along the traces left on the path, he didn't dare get too close.
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After passing through a narrow corridor, he spotted the two figures in confrontation.
Comparing the two, Wade seemed to be at a disadvantage. A flicker of worry gripped him, but instead of rushing out, he found a spot to conceal himself.
A faint, illusory killing intent permeated the air.
Wayne launched the attack first, sending several flying daggers streaming toward Wade. Soon, several more piercing wounds appeared on Wade's body.
The fluid flowing from Wade's body was no longer crimson blood; it had turned into a sticky black substance. Those viscous drops sizzled with corrosiveness as they hit the floor.
Wayne knew that the poison he had used was taking effect, but strangely, this seemed to have no impact on Wade's movements—he was still jumping around actively.
Gradually, Wade's pupils turned scarlet, and a foul, unappealing stench emanated from his body.
"Ability losing control?" Wayne stared at the opponent in confusion, taking several steps back.
Joey, hiding in the dark, also noticed something was wrong and grew frantic with anxiety.
Suddenly, as if thinking of something, a resounding shout rang through the silent castle:
"Captain, use your gun!" The moment he shouted those words, he hurriedly muttered in a low voice: "Azrael, lift the decree prohibiting the use of firearms for me."
Wade, whose mind was already drifting from excessive blood loss, subconsciously pulled out his revolver upon suddenly hearing Joey's shout.
This was the professional competence stemming from a corps captain.
Bang, bang, bang!
He pulled the trigger without the slightest hesitation.
In an instant, the roles of enemy and ally reversed.
While Wayne was still dazed, a bullet struck dead center in the middle of his forehead.
Within his vision, everything seemed to plunge into stagnation.
It was precisely because of this shot that Wade regained a brief shred of clarity. Enduring the burning sensation wracking his body, he lowered his head to look at the gun in his hand.
He found it somewhat incredible: under the decree of 0-013, he had actually broken through the restraints?
Joey cautiously emerged from the darkness, offering an awkward smile as he greeted Wade: "Good evening, captain."
Wade's scarlet pupils swept across the surroundings before locking onto Joey, his voice cold:
"You didn't go out?"
Since things had come to this, he simply spread his hands and expressed his helplessness: "I couldn't help it either. I couldn't get out."
At that moment, a sinister voice suddenly rang out:
"Turns out there was another little mouse."
Vade Wisker reached out to grab Joey's shoulder, dragging him back rapidly.
"Danger!"
That soul-shattering aura of death dispersed outward.
Clack!
The sound of metal dropping onto the floor simultaneously drew both of their gazes.
It was a spent bullet casing.
The corners of Wayne's sallow face split open, revealing an eerie, chilling sneer.
As for the wound between his brows, it was slowly healing; the writhing granulation tissue looked extremely repulsive.
Bang, bang, bang!
Another series of gunshots rang out, every single bullet aiming straight for the enemy's vital points.
"Useless!"
Wayne's body was knocked flying backward several meters by the impact of the bullets. Transcendent weapons were all specially treated, and as a captain, the power of Wade's gun—unrestricted by 0-013—could well be imagined.
Struck by multiple rounds, Wayne only let out a muffled grunt; aside from that, he seemed completely unaffected.
This was the special characteristic of the Living Dead sequence. Their bodies had been thoroughly modified by potions, which was also the reason why transcendents who entered the Mid-Sequence were so difficult to kill.
The revolver's bullets were limited after all. Seeing this, Joey hurriedly drew his own gun, preparing to hand it over.
Wade, however, waved his hand and said:
"Cough, cough, no need. Guns are useless against him."
As he spoke, he clutched his throat and coughed repeatedly before recovering.
"Captain, are you poisoned?" Joey asked nervously.
At this moment, Wade's entire body exuded a suffocating, putrid stench, and viscous blood-mixed fluid began to seep out from his pores.
"Joey, listen to me." He retreated a few steps, widening the distance between himself and Joey.
"You must buy me one minute." He looked straight at Joey with a solemn expression: "I need you to stall him."
"Alright." Though he didn't know what Wade was planning, under these circumstances, he had no choice but to choose unconditional trust.
In a flash, he closed in on Wayne, stabbing out with his blade without hesitation.
Wayne didn't even bother to dodge, letting the opponent's attack land squarely on him.
Joey crouched low in an offensive stance. Conversely, Wayne let his arms hang loosely by his sides, standing straight. With a condescending posture, he gazed coldly at the enemy as if watching a clown perform.
As a Sequence 6 Living Dead, his greatest reliance was the special nature of his body. He simply didn't take Joey's attacks seriously.
His body trembled slightly, presenting a state of excitement instead.
He sneered mockingly:
"Continue. Your performance is quite entertaining."
He couldn't even be bothered to stop Wade; here, he had absolute confidence that no matter what the enemy did, it couldn't cause him any harm.
No one knew that their greatest reliance for this operation didn't stem from themselves, but from 0-013.
He was currently not restricted by the decree of 0-013, which meant he was a Sequence 6 with transcendent abilities.
"Looking down on me?"
A trace of ruthlessness flashed across Joey's eyes as he stared back with a cold sneer.
Soon, Wayne detected a strange sensation in his body. Lowering his head, he discovered that the discomfort originated from a tiny wound, no larger than a fingernail.
The burning damage of 'Quenching' was beginning to take effect.
You know how to use poison? What a coincidence, so do I!
Joey felt rather smug, not expecting to succeed so easily. This had to be credited to the opponent's arrogance.
The previous strike plus the current one made two cuts in total. He unhesitatingly triggered the poison hidden inside Wayne's body.
Which meant that for some time coming, he would likely be spending it in the washroom.
Pfft!
Wayne performed a jaw-dropping action.
He ruthlessly carved out two chunks of flesh from his body and discarded them along with the wound.
Hiss!
You can even do that?
Just watching it hurt!
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