novelbin Chapter 147 : Chapter 147
Chapter 147 : Chapter 147
Chapter 147. Soul Probe
The originally chaotic and violent aetheric environment froze in an instant.
An invisible yet very real wave of mental shock swept across the entire area in a fan-shaped arc.
Those mutated priests who had still been struggling and roaring were, in that moment, like machines whose power had been switched off.
Their movements locked up in perfect unison. Then dark red fluid began to ooze from the corners of their eyes, their nostrils, and those two tiny breathing holes.
Thud.
The muffled sounds of heavy bodies hitting the ground rose one after another.
Aside from the little ringleader known as the “bishop,” every other priest had their brains burned out in that instant and collapsed into heaps of dead flesh.
“You’re the only one left.”
Logaris leapt lightly down from the crossbeam. His leather boots landed on the muddy floor with a sound that made one’s scalp crawl.
The priest-bishop stumbled backward like a madman, his yellowish eyes filled with terror at the approach of death.
“For the Drowned God!”
The bishop howled and plunged both hands into the alchemical vat beside him.
He was burning away his own life.
The blue poison in the vat responded to his call and wildly converged together, forming a savage water elemental over three meters tall.
Corrosive black smoke rose from the creature’s entire body, and within its core, countless wailing spirits could vaguely be seen screaming in agony.
“The same tired old summoning trick again.”
The disgust in Logaris’s voice was practically overflowing.
On the jeweled glove covering his right hand, three crystals lit up at once with a dangerous red glow.
“Greater Disintegration.”
A beam of red light, no thicker than a finger yet so deep in color that it was nearly black, shot out.
The moment that red ray touched the water elemental, the massive thing that had looked so unstoppable began to disintegrate from the particle level, like a lump of snow dropped into scalding water.
Every single aetheric particle was forcibly broken apart and returned to the primordial magical background.
The red beam did not lose momentum. It pierced through the fading image of the water elemental and struck the bishop squarely in the chest.
He did not even have time to leave behind last words. The fifth-tier powerhouse could only stare in horror as his chest turned to ash, followed by his limbs and then his head… In barely two seconds, his entire body was erased from the material world, leaving behind nothing but a drifting cloud of dust.
Hidden in the shadow of the raised platform, Baron Tarassa stared in utter shock.
What had just happened?
That fifth-tier bishop had died just like that?
At that moment, Baron’s obese body erupted with astonishing potential. Scrambling and tumbling, he rolled off the platform and staggered toward a hidden door in the corner.
That was the escape route he had prepared for himself.
“Run? If that lump of fat on your body can get away, then I may as well stop showing my face in the North.”
Logaris did not even bother to chase him.
Standing right beside him was the strongest fifth-tier knight currently in the Kingdom of Asterlia.
Sylvia’s eyes were cold. She lightly tapped the ground with the tip of her foot.
Her figure blurred into a string of afterimages too fast for the naked eye to catch.
Baron’s hand had only just touched the hidden door’s handle when he felt a mountain-crushing force slam into his back.
“Aaagh!”
The two-hundred-plus-pound ball of flesh was kicked flying by Sylvia. He soared across more than half the workshop before crashing heavily into the muddy ground at Logaris’s feet.
Baron felt certain every bone in his body had shattered. His throat was full of the taste of iron.
He lifted his head and saw a face hidden behind sunglasses, impossible to read in the slightest.
“Y-you can’t kill me! I’m in line to inherit the Tarassa family!”
Baron coughed up blood while frantically dragging himself backward, the thick layer of greasy sweat on his face mixing with the black mud on the ground.
“I can give you money! Gold Lion Coins! One million! No, two million! As long as you let me go, all of it is yours!”
Logaris sighed, crouched down, and looked at the fat man who was still trying to buy his life with money.
“I don’t think you understand the situation yet.”
“I didn’t come here for money.”
Logaris extended his right hand and pressed his palm against Baron’s greasy, shiny scalp.
The touch disgusted him, but he endured it.
“Conventional interrogation is too slow, and I’m not in the mood to listen to the lies you make up. So let’s switch to something a little more efficient.”
“Spellcraft · Soul Probe.”
Baron’s pupils contracted violently. He realized what was happening, and just as he tried to open his mouth to beg for mercy, only a leaking, rasping sound escaped his throat.
His body began convulsing violently. His eyes rolled back, and great amounts of white foam poured from his mouth.
This kind of brutal soul-searching method was utterly destructive to the one being cast upon.
Logaris’s mental power became countless slender tendrils, savagely tearing open Baron’s shallow cerebral cortex.
He directly ignored all the worthless memories of lust, wealth, and desire.
What he was searching for were the secrets buried deep inside—those connected to Tyrania.
Scene after scene flashed through Logaris’s mind.
In a dim study, Baron’s father, Count Casido, was slipping a letter sealed with the royal wax seal of Tyrania into a hidden compartment.
At the docks in the dead of night, crate after crate marked with the label “Deep Blue Fisheries” was being transported inland into the kingdom.
And on a top-secret map, several special locations had been marked out. They were the secondary processing centers for Siren’s Dream.
The soul probe lasted for about three minutes.
By the time Logaris withdrew his hand, Baron had already become a drooling idiot who could do nothing but grin foolishly.
The filthy brain cells inside his head had been completely destroyed by the high-frequency psychic oscillation.
Logaris stood up, pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the grease from his hand with obvious disgust before tossing the cloth into the fire.
“Well?”
Sylvia walked over, her longsword already sheathed, the fierce killing intent around her having faded considerably.
“The haul is even bigger than I expected.”
Logaris pressed a hand to his temple, easing his slightly swollen brain.
“That old bastard Casido really is bold. He’s not just trafficking addictive agents—he also sold Whiteport’s defense layout to the Tyranian navy.”
“In exchange, Tyrania promised to preserve the Tarassa family’s status in the coming war and support him as the new Grand Duke of the North. Hah. What a beautiful little scheme to sell out the nation for glory.”
Sylvia’s breathing grew noticeably heavier.
“Where are the letters and the real account books?”
“In the count’s manor, inside Casido’s study.”
After saying that, Logaris did not move at once. Instead, he turned his head and looked at the workers in the workshop who were still laboring away in numb silence.
Even though the commotion from the battle had been significant, and even though their overseers had been killed or turned into an idiot, these pitiful wretches whose brains had already been completely burned out by drugs still had not stopped working. They were like discarded machines running on pre-set instructions.
“We can’t let them ruin this,” Logaris said, pushing up his sunglasses, his gaze behind the lenses calm in a way that was almost frightening. “Their minds may be gone, but if even one of them runs out, or if the disturbance here accidentally reaches above, that old fox Casido might destroy the evidence ahead of time.”