"This is the right choice. Go now. If you feel guilty, then take care of my son."
"I don’t have any burdens. During the Soul Wave Festival, rember to pour so wine. Oh, and Red Sand Crab... If possible, marinated with Matt’s fine brew would be best."
Seeing the two suddenly stop, Balazs couldn’t help but stop as well.
Then he was shoved forward by the two of them.
Watching the two stand and wave in place, Balazs gritted his teeth and turned away.
Flas had already ignited on his limbs, spewing backward like jets of fire.
His speed instantly soared, leaping quickly toward where the general was located.
anwhile, the two who stood still were wrapped up by scarlet tentacles.
"Damn it, damn the royal family, damn Kriel."
Balazs ran, grinding his teeth and growling in a low voice.
This damned general had destroyed everything he had—wiped out all the success he built from nothing over the years.
He had even gotten his loyal friends and companions killed for following him.
And those who betrayed him, it was only because he himself lacked the power to protect them.
Everything he had was gone.
With such massive destruction, even the ship he moored by the sea was likely caught up in it.
Even Krier, soone as powerful as a Fourth Stage, had fled. He didn’t believe the people on his ship could survive; his ship might also be destroyed with everything else.
Anger, sorrow, and despair echoed in his mind without end.
Hatred, rage, guilt, regret—all those emotions erupted in his heart.
He now felt like charging forward to die together with the general, to hold him back, so they would perish side by side.
But he knew, with his strength, at best he could delay for a few seconds. It would be aningless.
If it weren’t for Kriel, he wouldn’t be trapped in this predicant now. All of it was caused by that damned man.
The flas surging from him boosted his speed even more.
Soon, he caught up.
The running Kriel turned and glanced at him, seeing sorrow flickering in Balazs’s eyes.
He buried his own hatred and fury deep in his heart—for now, he didn’t have the strength.
They sprinted to the edge of a cliff. Ahead, there was no way forward; only the sea lay before them.
The seawater floated in this space, encircling the Island.
A soldier leaned over and looked down the cliff.
He had barely glanced down before collapsing to the ground—a thin scarlet tentacle had pierced his skull.
"Are we... already out of options?" Balazs said, slowly backing away.
But from behind, tentacles were swiftly spreading toward him. All around, there were only these tentacles.
The blood-red mist had stained all the surroundings scarlet.
The soldiers ringed the general, while Balazs stood still, surveying the present scene.
Looks like this is the end.
There was a strange sense of peace in his heart. He turned and looked at Kriel’s tightly furrowed brows and, inexplicably, felt a flicker of happiness.
Hatred had finally been released.
To die with this man—perhaps it was worth it. Or maybe, he had gained more than he lost.
A crimson tentacle pierced through the air toward them.
Faced with the terror of death, the soldiers at the front finally tried to dodge.
But an unseen force pressed them in place; the tentacle pierced straight through, wrapping them up tightly.
You could see the disbelief in his eyes.
"Attack! Destroy these tentacles!"
Kriel shouted, but it was futile. Even as the soldiers attacked frantically all around, it made no difference.
These tentacles were just like the creatures of the Dream Realm; their onslaught barely slowed them, had no real effect at all.
And as he himself slit open both palms, blood dripped ceaselessly, and his hands slashed through the air.
Invisible blades mixed with blood whirled ceaselessly in the air, forming Spirals that cut down the tentacles that closed in.
But such attacks could only erase the thin, stabbing tentacles. The great ones creeping in from afar were utterly unaffected.
His formless strikes were useless against the huge tentacles—as droplets on a lake raise only the faintest ripple.
As two more soldiers were killed, dragged away,
Kriel’s expression finally grew grave. His long-held rank and noble station ant that, even in despair, he showed nothing on his face.
A pair of gloves appeared in his palm—one of his Treasures.
He waved his gloved hand, seemingly trying to rip open space and escape, but it was useless.
This was already the Dream Realm, so different from reality.
Even the Treasure that could tear space was now powerless.
A whistle-shaped Treasure slipped from his throat, sending ripples outward in all directions.
But these spreading ripples had no effect on the encroaching tentacles—it was impossible to keep them out.
"Never thought that I, Kriel, would die in a place like this." Having exhausted every ans, he stood there and spoke quietly.
At these words, Balazs stood by, sneering, "So, do you regret it? If you had kept your promise, you wouldn’t be stuck here now."
"Hmph. Perhaps." Even at the end, he maintained his composure.
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