Chapter 12: I Knew You Weren’t Human
As his magical power drained away, Donald’s face contorted in horror. His body weakened, his once-youthful skin wrinkling and sagging.
Qin Chu, on the other hand, reveled in the influx of power. The stolen magic surged through his veins, strengthening him, his Mana stat on his status panel steadily increasing.
His level, too, slowly crept upwards, fueled by the absorbed energy.
With each passing second, he felt himself growing stronger, the sensation exhilarating.
The commotion attracted the attention of the other guests. They watched in confusion as Donald struggled against an unseen force, his body trembling uncontrollably.
The chaotic flow of magic disrupted the banquet hall’s magical lamps, their light flickering erratically, casting eerie shadows across the room.
Donald’s eyes clouded over, his skin rippling as something writhed beneath the surface, forming grotesque bulges.
“Hero!” he rasped, his voice strained. “What are you doing? You can’t kill a nobleman in front of all these people!”
He hoped his status would protect him, that the other nobles would intervene.
But Qin Chu was unmoved. “Silence, fiend,” he commanded, his voice cold and hard.
“I knew you weren’t human.”
Donald’s eyes widened in terror. His worst fears had been realized. Somehow, this man had seen through his disguise, exposed his true nature.
He was trapped.
Either he would be drained of his magic, left to wither and die, or he would reveal his true form and face the wrath of the assembled nobles.
Either way, death was inevitable.
Emperor Wadsworth frowned. He didn’t particularly like Donald. The count was a nouveau riche, his noble title purchased with his family’s ill-gotten gains. Such upstarts were looked down upon by the old aristocracy, their lineage tainted by the stench of commerce.
But he was still a nobleman, a subject of the empire. The Emperor couldn’t allow the Hero to kill him, not here, not now.
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, prepared to intervene.
But Donald, his eyes gleaming with desperation, suddenly lashed out, drawing a hidden dagger from his belt. The blade, coated in a shimmering blue poison, plunged towards Qin Chu’s heart.
He was a dead man walking. If he could take the Hero with him, it would be a glorious death, a heroic sacrifice.
The other guests gasped, their faces pale with shock.
Angelica, her eyes wide with terror, lunged forward, trying to push Qin Chu out of the way, her own safety forgotten.
Emperor Wadsworth, Saint Monique, and Pope Augustus reacted instinctively, their animosity towards the Hero momentarily forgotten. They needed him alive, at least for now.
The Thirteen Sages, too, watched in horror. If Qin Chu died now, they wouldn’t be able to summon another Hero for three years. By then, the Heavenly Continent would be in ruins.
Natia’s face drained of all color.
Only Loseweisse’s eyes gleamed with a manic delight. Die, die, die… she thought, her heart filled with a venomous glee. She didn’t care what happened to the Heavenly Continent.
All she wanted was to see Qin Chu dead.
Several of the stronger guests moved to intervene, but Qin Chu, standing directly in front of Donald, was faster. His rapidly increasing stats, fueled by the stolen magic, had already significantly boosted his speed and reflexes.
His hand shot out, catching Donald’s wrist a mere inch from his heart.
The dagger stopped, suspended in mid-air, its poisoned tip hovering dangerously close to his chest.
Donald struggled, but his efforts were futile. The dagger wouldn’t budge.
That single inch was an insurmountable chasm, separating him from his goal, from the glory of slaying the Hero.
Qin Chu twisted his wrist, a sickening crack echoing through the room as Donald’s bones shattered.
A scream, inhumanly shrill and piercing, ripped from Donald’s throat, his body convulsing in agony.
Qin Chu twisted again, the broken hand, still clutching the dagger, rotating inwards. The blade sliced through Donald’s throat, a spray of thick, white fluid erupting from the wound, splattering across the floor.
The banquet hall, moments ago filled with the aroma of fine food and wine, was now engulfed in a nauseating stench, the sweet scent of roasted meats overwhelmed by the cloying odor of decay.
Several of the noblewomen, their stomachs churning, abandoned all pretense of decorum, rushing to the nearest wall to vomit.
As Donald’s lifeblood drained away, his disguise faltered, the magic that had sustained it dissipating.
The elegant clothes crumpled, revealing the monstrous truth beneath.
A thick, white worm, twenty centimeters in diameter and a meter long, wriggled on the floor, its translucent skin revealing the pulsating fluids within. A gaping wound ran along its length, oozing a viscous slime. It resembled a giant maggot, its only discernible feature a gaping maw lined with razor-sharp teeth.
Not terrifying, perhaps, but undeniably repulsive.
“A Phantom Demon…” Saint Monique muttered, her brow furrowed, her stomach churning.
“How did you know?” Pope Augustus asked, his gaze fixed on Qin Chu. He was less concerned about the Demon’s presence than he was about the Hero’s ability to detect it. Even he, the most powerful figure in the Holy See, hadn’t seen through the disguise.
This new Hero was full of surprises, and not all of them were welcome.
They needed his power, but they didn’t want him to become too powerful, too unpredictable.
All eyes were on Qin Chu, waiting for an explanation.
He met their gazes calmly, his expression carefully neutral as he delivered his prepared speech. “I possess two Super-tier Abilities,” he explained. “One of them is called Justice’s Companion.”
“As long as I walk the path of righteousness, my power will continue to grow.”
“It also grants me a heightened awareness of Demons. I can sense their presence, even discern their strengths and weaknesses.”
Justice’s Companion was an unknown Ability in this world. He could claim whatever he wanted, and they would have no way to verify his claims.
The guests gasped, their faces a mixture of awe and apprehension.
Super-tier Abilities were incredibly rare.
And their effects were often devastatingly powerful. Saint Monique, Pope Augustus, and Emperor Wadsworth owed their positions, their very power, to their respective Super-tier Abilities.
Only Natia, the youngest of the Thirteen Sages, possessed a Super-tier Ability.
Even the legendary Jie Luo, despite possessing only one Super-tier Ability, had surpassed the Pope and the High Priestess in strength.
Two Super-tier Abilities… it was unheard of.
The guests, with the exception of the Sages, were awestruck. Emperor Wadsworth, Saint Monique, and Pope Augustus, however, exchanged wary glances. This wasn’t part of their plan. A powerful Hero was a useful tool, but a Hero with two Super-tier Abilities might prove difficult to control.
The other guests, however, were too caught up in the excitement to consider the potential ramifications. Cheers erupted, filling the banquet hall.
“Two Super-tier Abilities! Unbelievable! This has never happened before!”
“He truly is the Hero!”
“He’s even more gifted than the First Hero!”
“The Heavenly Continent is saved! We’ll finally be rid of those accursed Demons!”
“Hope… there’s hope for us all!”
The cheers, the ecstatic faces, reminded Qin Chu of his execution, the gleeful expressions of the crowd mirroring their current enthusiasm.
One moment they had cheered for his death, the next they celebrated his potential to save them.
Qin Chu’s smile widened, his arms spreading wide, as if embracing the adulation.
“Rejoice!” he declared, his voice ringing out across the hall.
“I promise you… I will bring peace to the Heavenly Continent!”
“Eternal peace!”