From the Screaming Forest, looking into the distance, one could faintly discern that the battle within the city still waged on.
With the massive departure of Supreme Order Divine Society members, the remaining Deep Blue Castle Wizards found it becoming increasingly difficult to suppress the Revenge Alliance Wizards besieging the city. What had been an advantageous situation was slowly being turned around by Revenge Alliance Wizards, who were now locked in an intense melee.
Nearby, Franklin floated in the air, still incessantly talking to Richard, who stood on the ground listening silently without uttering a word.
As he spoke, Franklin sensed the atmosphere becoming subtly charged and abruptly stopped talking, closing his mouth and silently staring at Richard.
This heightened the tension.
In the sky, the many members of the Supreme Order Divine Society and Richard, standing on the ground, were enveloped in an air filled with a myriad of emotions.
Franklin’s eyes flickered, his expression shifting uncertainly as he stared at Richard, unsure of what to do.
Logically, since Richard had been able to kill Muse quickly, dispatching them wouldn’t be difficult, and their wisest course of action right now ought to be flight.
However, as sensible as this course might seem, it wasn’t necessarily the best option upon closer analysis.
On one hand, behind them lay a great battle, crucial to the fate of the East Coast for the next few centuries. Should they flee, who could guarantee that Richard wouldn’t interfere? If Richard intervened, their long-term planning could amount to naught and the organization’s punishment would surely be far worse than death. In that case, they might as well try to stop Richard.
On the other hand, if they truly engaged Richard in combat, failure wasn’t a foregone conclusion. Richard had certainly killed Muse, demonstrating his power, but his current state seemed far from robust—in fact, he appeared exceptionally weak.
That might just be their opportunity.
Franklin’s hunch wasn’t wrong. Richard was indeed very weak, not due to any injury, but because of the immense toll from using the "Destructive Gloves."
Previous usage of just one finger from the "Destructive Gloves" had been a great strain on Richard’s internal free energy reserves; employing the full capabilities of the "Destructive Gloves" had nearly drained him completely.
Now, Richard stood on the ground, supporting the injured Pandora. His complexion was even paler than Pandora’s, and his body swayed slightly. The weakness was impossible to hide. Even though one hand clutched the Energy Storage Short Wand, rapidly replenishing his expended energy, he couldn’t fully recover in just a few breaths.
Franklin, watching from above for a long time, concluded that his guess was correct and ventured further, probing, "Kid, are you a little scared now, regretting opposing us? Do you, at last, understand that defying us leads only to a dead end? Do you realize that you can’t resist us? If you’ve truly understood, perhaps I might give you a chance to survive."
Franklin paused there, waiting for Richard’s response, ready to strike mercilessly should Richard inquire, "What chance?"
But Richard didn’t react as expected. Instead, he slightly lifted his face, looking at Franklin floating in the sky with a gaze as calm as ever, devoid of fear or panic, retaining just a hint of anger deep within.
The next moment, Richard spoke, his gaze fixed on Franklin and the numerous wizards around him, his voice smooth and unhurried as if he was merely explaining a principle, stating a fact, "Actually, you don’t need to tell me. I’m well aware of you. I know you’re powerful, mysterious, wielding many astonishing methods with immeasurable strength. That’s why you can obliterate the Black Spirit Empire, leave no trace behind, can destroy White Stone City, take tens of thousands of lives, and now prepare to use a trap to wipe out every wizard on the entire East Coast."
"I don’t know what you’re planning, and likely others are just as bewildered. But in truth, even knowing your goal, we couldn’t stop you."
The Black Spirit Empire united the strength of the entire nation to stop you, and when they failed, the nation was wiped out. Hundreds of wizards from the White Stone Tower tried to stop you, and when they failed, they were leveled with meteorites. Now, thousands of wizards from the entire East Coast are trying to stop you. Although they have not yet failed, it looks like failure is not far off—if it weren’t for me, they might all be dead by now.
With so many examples before me, I have no interest in stopping you.
On one hand, I dislike trouble. On the other, I have my own affairs to attend to. Therefore, even if there is conflict with you, I’ll avoid it if I can, and hide if need be.
But that being said, it doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, as you please.
Not wanting to stop you doesn’t mean I can’t stop you. That’s another matter entirely.
Do you know? In my eyes, you are indeed powerful, capable of adorning your organization’s name with the word "god", calling it a Divine Society. You may indeed represent some kind of supreme order, calling it Supreme Order. Calling others ants, you have every right to be confident.
But... there’s something I’ve been very eager to tell you. That is, you may be powerful, but..."
At this point, Richard paused briefly, looking at Franklin and the many others, and said. His tone, rarely filled with anger, was the anger that has always been there due to the intentional or unintentional obstruction by the opposite party, the anger towards their arbitrary actions, the anger towards their contempt for everything, and most of all, the anger over the injury Pandora suffered as an innocent bystander.
In the winter day, the afternoon sun was warm, but it suddenly became cold, and the beams of sunlight turned into blades, slicing the entire world apart. Dust on the ground was swept up by a sudden whirlwind, crashing into the rays of light, and instantly shattered.
Richard spoke, articulating each word, "You may be powerful, but in my eyes, what are you?"
As the sound traveled through the air, Richard said earnestly, "Yes, what are you? You are indeed powerful, but are you so powerful that you can change the laws of physics? You do indeed view yourselves as superior, but what fundamental difference do you have compared to those you call insects? Have you been through a philosophical rite of the super era, or has your soul been transformed? All I see is that you fight in the same way as everyone else, think with the same mindset.
Your astonishing knowledge hasn’t played any additional role in your hands; your powerful spells haven’t made you transcend the average person.
What gives you the right to consider yourselves superior? In reality, there’s no difference between you and the people you kill; you’re all just ants.
Not long ago, someone asked me to kill you. I did not agree, because it seemed too troublesome, and I saw no point in it. But now, I feel that a little trouble doesn’t matter, and occasionally doing something pointless isn’t so bad. It’s like those exquisite pieces of art that consume a great deal of heart and effort, which are of no help in advancing science and technology, but at least they allow their creators to show what is in their hearts."
"Do you know what I am thinking right now?" Richard looked at Franklin and said.
"Wha... what?" Franklin replied instinctively.
"Simple," Richard answered, flipping his hand and pulling out the Black Spirit King’s Black Iron Mask from the Space Iron Ring and fitting it onto his face, "I just want you to die."
With a light sound, the Black Iron Mask sat firmly on Richard’s face, and his formidable presence suddenly burst forth.