Baron Buck put away the anger on his face; he had no doubt about Emil’s words.
Anyone might deceive him, but Emil could not.
"Traitor? Hmm, I know, there have always been traitors in the castle. But... what can he do to me?" Baron Buck stood on the high platform, surveying the surroundings with oppressive eyes, no one dared to meet his gaze.
He had relied not on the number of guards but on his own Great Knight strength to lord over Dur Valley for so many years.
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A strange sound of hooves echoed in the quiet banquet hall, sounding much like horse hooves, yet upon closer listening, it was different.
A brown-haired man in a black robe appeared in the banquet riding a strange creature, which was hairless with silver-white skin and had bat-like wings on its back.
The brown-haired man had a simple face, covered with freckles, and he smiled: "Sorry for being late; I was handling casting materials. I’m Malcolm O’Neal, from Green Cottage."
Malcolm dismounted from the creature and patted its head encouragingly, saying, "Well done, go now."
Seeing the strange looks from the people around, he laughed: "Oh, most of you probably haven’t seen it; it’s called a Night Steed, a creature visible only to those who have faced death. How cute, right?"
The surroundings were silent as the grave; no one spoke, as most looked at him with eyes full of fear.
Malcolm had suddenly appeared in an empty place, as if he rode the Night Steed out of the void.
"Wizard?" Baron Buck, like facing a great enemy, asked with a heavy expression.
Malcolm smiled at Baron Buck: "Yes, I am a Level 1 Wizard from Green Cottage. But you probably don’t know what Green Cottage is, nor who Malcolm is, so you don’t fear me. For example, you can still talk to me; that’s nice."
"After all, you are merely locals of Carlson Continent. Did you know, Carlson Continent is only as big as my little fingertip on the map? Oh, and you might not even know the name of the land you’re standing on. Ah, I’m telling you these things, but business is urgent."
As he spoke, he rubbed two fingers on his left hand, producing a transparent crystal ball.
"You are Buck Salara, right?" Malcolm asked courteously.
Baron Buck remained composed and replied, "That’s me."
"Oh, good." Malcolm nodded, awkwardly rubbing his head, "I’m sorry, but I’m commissioned to exterminate your entire family, so sorry."
With those words, the atmosphere became as silent as death; Malcolm spoke so naturally, like having a chat before destroying an ant nest.
"What will compel you to spare me, spare my family? Whatever Simon gave you, I’ll give you double!" Baron Buck clenched his fists tightly, sweat already beading on his forehead.
Malcolm sighed: "It’s impossible; what he gave, you can’t match because he offered his soul to me, a soul willing to be enslaved. Someone as strong-willed as you couldn’t possibly be willing to be a slave, right?"
"Soul?" Baron Buck wondered if he had misheard.
"Indeed, and it’s a soul with extreme hatred towards you. Such a soul is excellent casting material, and fortunately, it allows me to test if my spell model is flawless." Malcolm said excitedly, gesturing enthusiastically.
No one dared to interrupt him, even the birds in the surrounding woods halted their calls.
After his excitement subsided, Malcolm looked around, somewhat embarrassed: "Ah, I spoke too much again, delaying the time; my apologies. Shall we begin, Mr. Buck?"
"I won’t sit idly by waiting to die!" Buck drew his longsword and struck first.
That strike was a full effort from a Great Knight; Herag, by merely using his eyes, couldn’t grasp Buck’s drawing and striking movements.
If he were facing that strike, even with Shenlan’s warning, he wouldn’t react in time; the speed was simply too fast.
However, after Buck rushed forward, he remained frozen in mid-air with his striking posture unchanged, even his expression fixed.
Malcolm shrugged, spread his hands, and the crystal ball floated to Buck’s face, then he said: "Savages are always so rude, impulsive."
"Although time is limited, I must introduce my spell to you: Bloodline Curse, which can wipe out all those within three generations related by blood to the target. My spell requires the target’s entire blood, and a soul that harbors extreme hatred for the target, willing to sign a soul contract with me. All these conditions are indispensable, and I hadn’t expected to meet these criteria so quickly."
"Initially, when Simon approached me with the token, I thought of dismissing him casually. Unexpectedly, he harbored such deep hatred towards you, perfect for completing my spell experiment, so here I am."
Malcolm spread his hands, muttering softly. The crystal ball spun rapidly, then ceased moving.
Baron Buck’s mouth opened, but his appearance was odd, as if something forced his mouth open.
"Warning! Strong Magical Source detected!"
In Herag’s eyes, the situation grew increasingly terrifying.
Malcolm was engulfed in immense magic power, his entire being wrapped in a massive amount of magic.
The crystal ball extended a magic-formed pillar directly into Baron Buck’s mouth.
Soon after, Buck’s entire blood began rushing through the magically formed tube towards the crystal ball.
The transparent crystal ball quickly turned red as Buck’s blood continuously streamed into it.
The crystal ball appeared small but seemed eternally unfillable, taking in as much blood as available.
The once burly Buck soon turned into skin and bones, shrinking significantly.
The scene intensely impacted everyone present.
Only then did the crowd begin to scream and flee, enveloped in overwhelming terror.
"Too naive, we were too naive..."
Herag, watching the scene before him, suddenly found everything experienced before laughably absurd.
Baron Buck thought an alliance with the Duke of Tulip could save him from this disaster, but to a Wizard, perhaps even the King is but an ant.
Who would care about an ant’s views?
"My Lord Baron!" Emil’s anger overshadowed his fear as he drew his longsword intending to charge forward.
Melissa, on the high platform, also wanted to rush out to embrace her father, but she fell to the ground due to weak legs.