A mont later, the Cliffstriders beneath the massive sedan chair, no longer prodded by the soldiers, quickly slowed to a stop. Ethan wasted no ti and leapt aboard.
"Ah… please, don't kill us!" A chorus of panicked screams erupted inside. He glanced around. There were only four won in the compartnt—the priest had already disappeared. Ethan smiled gently as he looked at the four thinly clad won huddled together, shivering.
"Good acting… but… you still have to die." His voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp. In Ethan's eyes, these four weren't helpless at all. They were the real masters of this entourage.
Swish!
The woman closest to him flicked her hair. A dark shadow shot out, aid straight for his throat.
Ability: Dragon's Might!
A blue light flashed in Ethan's pupils. Mid-flight, the dark shadow suddenly stiffened and fell to the floor with a dull thud. It was a black snake, half a ter long and thick as a thumb. Ethan kicked it out of the sedan chair without hesitation.
Even with the threat neutralized, goosebumps prickled his skin. He hated snakes. When he was a boy in the orphanage, the older kids had bullied him during an outing and pushed him into the snake pit at the zoo. He could still feel those countless cold bodies slithering across his skin. That mory alone was enough to justify using his trump card. Dragon's Might was always effective—small creatures like that couldn't withstand its terror.
At the sa mont, the four won drew weapons from hidden compartnts beneath their seats. Ethan took one look and knew none of them were ordinary. The daggers weren't cheap iron—they were fine steel, each blade gleaming with a faint blue sheen. Poison. Four identical weapons. They lunged for him in unison, aiming with cold precision at his brow, throat, heart, and groin.
Every strike was calculated to cripple or kill.
He twisted aside, smashing his palm into one woman's shoulder. Hiss! Pain seared across his hand as it made contact. He flinched back, quickly retreating to the sedan chair's entrance.
"As expected… none of you are harmless. All dirty tricks." He examined his hand. The skin where he'd struck her was already starting to corrode, turning an ominous black. The unknown venom was potent, enough to eat through flesh in seconds. Ethan's smile faded, replaced by a cold, almost weary expression.
"You're covered in poison… that Priest certainly has peculiar tastes," he muttered.
"If Priest Gorr wants you dead, you must die," one of the won hissed.
"Hmph… you killed my black dragon. I'll gut you alive and feed your insides to my snakes," snarled the one whose hair had concealed the serpent.
"Heh… Little sister, those n we butchered last ti—your snakes probably haven't even finished with their remains," another said, almost fondly.
"Exactly! Little sister, let this one be second sister's prize. I'm only one treasure away from a thousand in my collection," the third woman said, her tone disturbingly cheerful.
"No, second sister, look at his small fra," the fourth chid in. "I'd wager his 'treasure' is quite big. Let third sister have her fun first. Then you can cut it up later. It won't be too late."
Ethan watched them bicker about his fate and spoke evenly. "All talk, no action. Are you trying to buy ti for that Priest ?"
As he spoke, he slipped his hand behind his back. A soft green glow pulsed over his skin as he cast Tree Form, followed by Natural Healing. The blackened flesh slowly returned to healthy white. He flexed his fingers, satisfied.
The four won's eyes widened in unison. They hadn't expected him to see through their stalling tactic so easily. Their voices sharpened.
"Hmph… then we'll just take you down now. Third sister can enjoy you, and after that, we'll carve out your 'treasure' and feed your guts to the snakes!"
"Go on," Ethan replied, unruffled.
Splash!
They lunged again, but Ethan moved first. From behind his back, he swung out a bucket and hurled its contents over them.
The four won were quick—so of the fastest he'd ever seen—but the sedan chair was too cramped to dodge. Liquid drenched them head to toe. Their thin, almost transparent clothes clung to their bodies, outlining every curve. Ethan's gaze flicked over them despite himself. Each of the four sisters had her own distinct allure, and every last one of them was a tigress in human skin.
Tsk, tsk, tsk…
"What is this?" one of them demanded, alard. The fluid slled foul but didn't seem to hurt them.
"Nothing," Ethan said, regaining his composure.
Snap.
A lighter appeared in his hand. He flicked it open and lit a cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.
"Even with all that poison on you, I wouldn't dare touch you," he murmured. "So… I thought I'd give you a bath instead."
Their eyes narrowed, suspicious.
"A bath…?"
"Yeah," he said casually, flicking the half-smoked cigarette toward the floor. "A gasoline bath."
"Gasoline?" The word ant nothing to them, but sothing in his tone made all four stiffen in sudden dread. They tracked the glowing ember as it sailed through the air.
"Run!" one shrieked.
But it was too late.
Boom!
The cigarette touched the floor, and flas roared up in an instant. The entire sedan chair beca an inferno. The four won, already mid-leap, were swallowed in the blast.
Boom… boom… boom… boom…
Fireballs tumbled out, screaming.
"Ah…"
"It… hurts…"
"Help… …"
"Please… save …"
They hit the sand, thrashing and writhing, trying to extinguish the flas. One of them crawled toward Ethan, a charred hand outstretched in desperation. He only watched, expressionless.
The sll that wafted up wasn't the odor of burning flesh—it was the reek of countless poisons going up in smoke. He wrinkled his nose as the last of their strength failed. One by one, they collapsed and lay still.
"Such beautiful bodies… and they chose to embrace poison," he muttered. "What a pity… what a pity…"
His eyes hardened as he took out another cigarette and lit it. "Poisonous people… even more poisonous hearts. And you wanted to cut off my 'treasure.' In your next life… you won't get the chance."
He turned and began walking back the way he'd co, his boots crunching over the scorched sand. He stopped in an open patch, glancing around. His voice rang out, steady and cold.
"Co out. I'll give you one last chance. Or do you want to dig you out myself?"
Silence stretched. Two minutes passed. He waited, unmoving. Another minute crawled by. His eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on a patch of sand near his feet. He bent slightly, ready to strike.
Suddenly, a small mound swelled and burst open. A creature poked its head out, sothing like a mole but stranger, with pale pink fur and glinting eyes. A mont later, a man's face erged behind it—ashen and tense.
"How did you find ?" the man rasped, glaring at Ethan. His voice quivered with resentnt and dread.
Ethan didn't answer right away, studying the newcor in silence. So this is the Priest? He felt no imposing aura. No threat.
"I am one of Beastfall City's three Beast Taming Priests," the man went on, as if reciting a line he'd prepared. "Killing will do you no good."
Beast Taming Priest…? Ethan's eyes shifted to the mole-like creature by the man's side. No wonder it had been able to tunnel for him so quickly. So, this was beast taming. He realized there must be many types of priests in this land.
"Killing you might not benefit ," Ethan said evenly. "But leaving you alive will cause a lot of trouble."
The man flinched, taking an instinctive step back. Ethan's calm tone was more terrifying than any shout. The killing intent in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Don't… don't kill !" the priest babbled, his composure unraveling. "I can give you anything you want!"
"Sorry. Not interested."
Ethan lunged forward, seizing him by the throat.
"Squeak! Squeak!"
The mole leapt up, its soft body stretching as its jaws opened wide. Inside that pink face yawned an impossibly huge, blood-red maw lined with fangs. It snapped for Ethan's arm.
"Holy hell…" Ethan recoiled in disgust. 'This is no mole.'
The sight jolted a mory from long ago—a computer ga he'd played as a boy, with a creature called Mouth of the Abyss.
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