novelraw Chapter 242: What does torture feel like when experienced through a 128-fold increase in sensitivity?
Chapter 242: What does torture feel like when experienced through a 128-fold increase in sensitivity?
Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling!
Just as the sword was closing in on Alexander at an alarming proximity, a sudden, melodious jingle of a silver bell broke the tension. The sound was crisp, its waves spreading outward like ripples on an ocean surface.
In an instant, the Hell Warriors paused, their swords hanging in mid-air. Those behind them also came to a halt, their gaze collectively shifting to the silver bell in Alexander’s hand.
The next moment—
The symphonic friction of armor reverberated. Six Hell Warriors, even including the two dwarves standing guard at the entrance of the Hell Warrior mansion, simultaneously dropped to one knee. "Greetings, Inspection envoy!"
Dumbfounded!
Edward’s eyes widened as he stood there, stupefied.
They actually submitted? What on Earth is that bell in Alexander’s hand? It seemed vaguely familiar, something so powerful that even the Hell Warriors submitted at its sound!
Compared to Edward, the bald ghost on the other side practically wet himself with fear.
What’s going on? Who are they? Where is this? Is the guy in front of me really the chosen one? Hell Warriors! Those are Hell Warriors!
Even Alexander hadn’t expected the bell to be so efficacious. He had never seen the Hell Warriors display such a bizarre form of submission.
"Wait...wait... You must have mistaken him for someone else! He’s the chosen one, but he’s nothing but a lowly insect, a miserable bug! That bell, who knows where he stole it from!"
The bald ghost had completely lost it, shouting incessantly, his eyes fixated on the bell in Alexander’s hand. They knew, the catalyst for all of this was the bell Alexander held.
"Silence!" The Hell Warriors rose as one, their swords swiveling to point directly at the bald man and his companions.
The three immediately clamped their mouths shut.
"These three are far too noisy. Off with their heads!"
Alexander’s voice, calm and measured, sent the trio crashing to their knees in sheer terror.
However, the Hell Warrior shook his head and spoke, "My lord, although you hold the Inspector’s token, as if the Inspection envoy himself were here, we are constrained by the rules of this Mist instance. Their identities are not in question, so we cannot take action against them."
Upon hearing this, the three ghosts let out long sighs of relief, feeling as if they had narrowly escaped death.
Alexander’s brows furrowed deeply. Since relations were thoroughly strained, he couldn’t afford to let these three ghosts linger.
From the moment the Hell Warriors had appeared, all other onlookers had vanished, not even daring to peep. Thus, the only witnesses to the Hell Warriors kneeling before him were these three ghosts.
No one understood the human—or ghost heart better than Alexander.
If word of this got out, ghosts, who were already terrified of the Hell Warriors, would not transfer their fear to Alexander. Instead, they would direct their rage and resentment squarely at him, for Alexander didn’t possess the strength to subdue them all. This could be far worse than Louis becoming the city lord!
So, before he acquired such overwhelming power, this turn of events absolutely could not be allowed to transpire.
Sheathing the bell, Alexander looked at the Hell Warrior, his brow furrowing as he asked, "Is there no other way? I want them dead!"
"You wretch, you insignificant insect! It’s you who should die! Just you wait; you’ll become the sworn enemy of billions of ghosts in this horrifying world. You’re doomed, and no one can save you!"
Perhaps the bald ghost felt secure after hearing the Hell Warrior’s words or sensed Alexander’s resolute intent to kill them. Knowing that begging for mercy was futile, he started cursing unabashedly.
"Unless the Inspection envoy or the Guardian themselves come, there’s only one other way," said the Hell Warrior, causing the bald ghost’s face to change dramatically.
"What is it?" Alexander asked impatiently.
"The Dueling Platform!" The dark-armored Hell Warrior extended his hand, and at his fingertip, a miniature dueling platform began to slowly rotate. "I can set up a Dueling Platform here. You may engage in a three-on-three duel."
Instinctively, Alexander’s gaze shifted to Selena. On the surface, she appeared to be the weakest among them. Of course, that was purely superficial. Selena’s hidden strength was undoubtedly explosive.
"Don’t look at me! I’m very weak!" Selena quickly shook her head, projecting an air of pitiful vulnerability. "I can’t fight; I’ve never fought before. But relying on my innate talents for self-protection should be fine!"
Alexander was speechless. If she didn’t fight, how did she achieve her solider-level standing? By hiding?
Pushing aside this puzzling thought, he turned his attention to Edward.
"I can handle two ghost kings simultaneously, but one of them has to be the weakest," Edward answered honestly. After all, he had just recently ascended to the rank of a king.
The three ghosts before him were clearly veteran ghost kings who had mingled in the Mist instance for an unknown duration. Even the weakest among them emitted mid-level ghostly aura.
Alexander furrowed his brows, lost in thought, seemingly indecisive. This made the bald ghost’s eyes light up.
These three, especially the chosen one, were terrifying!
Those were Hell Warriors! Hell Warriors who could be manipulated at will! Had it not been for the rules of this mist instance, they would have already become mere souls under the command of the Hell Warriors.
If they could step outside this Mist instance and spread the word about Alexander, countless evil ghosts would undoubtedly want to tear him apart.
The problem lay in convincing the ghosts to believe their story. A Hell Warrior kneeling to a mere chosen warrior-level individual? It seemed like a farce, and the bald ghost had his doubts about how many would believe him.
Without the power of other ghosts to help kill Alexander, the bald ghost wasn’t convinced he could handle the mysterious man himself in the depths of Hell. Wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to eliminate future trouble?
Without much further thought, the bald ghost nodded immediately. "Agreed, we accept the challenge in the Dueling Platform. It’s a fight to the death!"
With that, he sneered at Alexander and spat out, "You were acting so high and mighty just now, weren’t you? Wanted to kill us? What’s the matter, afraid now? Are you not even man enough to face us?"
"Fine! I agree to the duel!" Alexander seemed incensed, glaring at the bald ghost.
"Very well. Dueling Platform, materialize!" The Hell Warrior gave a soft command and tossed the miniature platform into the air.
Instantly, the platform expanded rapidly, enveloped by a white mist, leaving only a passage for entrance and exit.
"Come on, I’ll be waiting inside. Don’t let me down, you coward!" Afraid Alexander might back out, the bald ghost taunted him and flew toward the platform.
Alexander and Edward exchanged a glance, then followed suit.
From the outside, the platform seemed no larger than a boxing ring. However, upon entering, they discovered it was as spacious as a large football stadium.
Upon entering the platform, Selena’s figure immediately faded and vanished, confirming her earlier statement of not participating in the fight.
"Haha! I didn’t think you’d actually have the guts to step in. Well, this saves me the trouble of worrying about you in the future," the bald ghost laughed maniacally upon seeing Alexander and Edward enter. Although momentarily surprised by Selena’s disappearance, he quickly regained his composure.
Simultaneously, smiles broke out on the faces of Alexander and Edward. Their grins carried a tinge of triumph.
"What are you smiling about?" The bald ghost felt a sudden twinge of unease, as if the tables were about to turn.
"Which one will you take?" Edward glanced at Alexander, inquiring.
"Obviously, the strongest one! Didn’t you say you could handle two, as long as one is the weakest? I’ll leave the two weaker ones to you. How long will it take you to deal with them?"
"I was just worried they might run away! But really, if all three come at me, I can handle them. The two weaker ones..." Edward chuckled awkwardly, then straightened his face. "One second, will that do?"
"Always the showman, aren’t you?" Alexander nodded, said. "Alright, you handle the two weaker ones in one second, and I’ll deal with the strongest one in five seconds. Ah... I’m still too weak."
Now it was Edward’s turn to be rendered speechless. Could the man be any more extravagant?
A mere chosen one solider-level individual, going against a late-stage, seasoned ghost king, and still lamenting his own weakness for requiring five seconds?
A giggle floated from the seemingly empty edge of the platform. "You two better hurry up; I have something to say afterward," Selena chimed in.
"Do you people suffer from some sort of delusion?" The bald ghost across the arena felt he was definitely dealing with three lunatics. Who were the real ghost kings here?
One second? Five seconds? Was this the rhetoric for a battle between a king-level and two soldier-level versus three ghost kings?
This must be a severe case of delusional disorder!
Alexander, uninterested in prolonging a conversation with someone who was soon to be a corpse, drew a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. He exhaled smoke rings and gestured for the bald ghost to come closer. "Bring it on, you scoundrel."
"I’ll cleave you in half with my axe, you worm!" The bald ghost had had enough. Fuming with rage, he unsheathed a massive axe and charged at Alexander.
"This guy is done for," Edward sighed, shaking his head in resignation.
Challenging Alexander? Unless one was at the Imperial level, or possessed a talent capable of countering Alexander’s own, the outcome would be identical to Rayden’s fate. Even a ghost king would find himself perishing at Alexander’s hands.
"Soul Bind!" With the aid of his defensive artifact, Alexander absorbed the bald ghost’s powerful strike and swiftly unleashed his soul-binding technique. Whips materialized and spiraled towards his opponent.
"Is this all you have? Is this your trump card?" The bald ghost sneered. A slight exertion of force, and the whips encircling him started to fracture, inch by inch.
"Blood Drain!" A torrent of ghostly energy exploded from Alexander, converting into sanguine mist aimed at the bald ghost’s brain. The ghost’s head went momentarily fuzzy, but clarity returned almost instantly.
"Soul Punishment!" Seven whips lashed out in rapid succession, one after another. Again, no damage was inflicted.
However, the true effect of Soul Punishment was not in its physical damage but in amplifying the opponent’s senses twofold with each strike. Without pause, Alexander deployed his next attack: the Lightning Whip.
Snap! Snap! Snap! A series of cracks resounded, their sounds overlapping as the lightning-infused whips left welts on the bald ghost’s head.
"Ah!" The bald ghost couldn’t contain his screams of agony, his outcry brimming with boundless fury. Alexander had deviously aimed all lashes at the ghost’s head, leaving seven bloody marks. The damage was minimal, but the humiliation was immense.
Moreover, it truly hurt!
The most terrifying aspect of the Lightning Whip was its third special characteristic, Soul Punishment, which doubled the victim’s sensitivity with each lash. And these effects were cumulative.
Now, with seven whips deployed, the sensation of pain increased by 128 times. Even though not a single drop of blood was spilled, the torment was akin to driving a nail directly under one’s fingernail.
Already seething with inner rage, now coupled with this horrific pain and the indignity of the whipping, the bald ghost could no longer contain his erupting fury.
He lost all reason and roared, "Blood Burst! You wretch, die!"
A surge of crimson light enveloped him, ultimately converging onto the axe in his hands. With every ounce of his being, he swung the weapon down on Alexander.
Boom!
A deafening explosion resonated, causing Edward’s ears to ring and his complexion to subtly change.
Had he been struck by that force, evading would have been impossible, and he would have been vaporized into a mist of blood. The same fate awaited Alexander if struck.
Fortunately, Alexander possessed a teleportation-like ability and heeded Kassadin’s advice: be low-key and cautious.
Therefore, in a situation where he knew he’d thoroughly enrage his opponent, he promptly activated his teleportation skill as soon as his attacks were done. If he hadn’t preemptively used his teleport, that clearly rage-fueled attack would have been too fast for him to escape.
The furious bald ghost paused for a moment as his devastating strike tore through empty air. Experienced in combat as he was, he immediately emitted a burst of ghostly energy. A Ghost King’s energy could neutralize an attack from any direction.
Just as he thought a blood-shield skill would grant him complete protection, Alexander had already blinked behind him, his hand gripping the ghost’s neck.
Hypnotic Ghost Hand!
The ghostly energy that was about to burst forth hesitated for a fraction of a second. For Alexander, that was enough.
Ghost Technique: Thunderbolt Blade Skill !
If it were any ordinary time, an attack of this magnitude would feel like a static shock to a seasoned Ghost King—completely inconsequential. But the bald ghost’s sensitivity was amplified by 128 times. His body involuntarily twitched under Alexander’s onslaught.
What followed was a field of blades imbued with electrical energy, creating a horrific tableau of torture. Although the blades inflicted minimal damage on an unprotected Ghost King, they broke through his defense.
Furthermore, Alexander had ingested a soldier-class ghost crystal, increasing the number of his blades by another thousand. Now, with 2,800 blades, a savage act of flaying commenced.
The robust physique of a Ghost King meant each blade could only inflict hair-thin wounds. But this only augmented the bald ghost’s agony.
What does torture feel like when experienced through a 128-fold increase in sensitivity? It was as if each sliver was a canyoned chasm of pain, each moment an eon in hell.
A harrowing scream erupted from the bald ghost. He forgot about attacking, forgot about defending; he even dropped the massive axe he was holding. Like a man possessed, he wildly flailed his arms in a frenetic attempt to ward off the terrifying blades that assailed him.