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Chapter 129: Intolerable

“It’s a pity; the script went a bit awry.” The Flame Demon suddenly sighed. “Diabolus is dead, and you’ve seen through his setup.”

Leanna hadn’t even had time to rejoice when the next sentence chilled her to the bone.

“But witnessing your own mother being burned alive should be enough to corrupt you, right?”

“Absolutely not!”

As the Flame Demon conjured a fireball, Leanna summoned the Hydra once more, frantically charging at her opponent.

Yet, the chasm between high and low ranks was insurmountable.

The Hydra’s venomous fangs couldn’t even touch the enemy for a moment before being reduced to ashes by an invisible barrier of demonic flames.

No matter how hard she squeezed her Extraordinary Power, reshaping her serpent form to attack endlessly, the result was always the same.

Meanwhile, the Flame Demon seemed to enjoy the spectacle, grinning in twisted delight.

Souls that descended from demon gods retained their wisdom, but their hearts were utterly twisted.

The undead yearned to steal human lives, succubi craved to destroy human love, and demons obsessed over breaking human spirits. Ultimately, the Demon Race found twisted joy in the suffering of other beings, especially humans.

Having lost count of her attempts, Leanna began to lose her grip on reality, gasping for breath, unable to maintain her full serpent form. She finally realized it was all inevitable.

Her father’s death, her mother’s suffering, her own years of patience and loneliness, and all her efforts on the path of the extraordinary were nothing but a dance in the palm of a demon’s hand—so laughable.

Long numbed to the darkness, Leanna had finally reached this point, catching a glimpse of light at the end of the shadows.

However, upon reaching the end, she was met with endless darkness and bitterness.

No matter how hard she tried, how much she persevered, or how much she endured, nothing could change her fate; she could only futilely fall into the abyss.

Watching the dark purple fireball inch closer to her mother’s figure, Leanna’s tear-filled eyes darkened.

She was all too familiar with this feeling.

The agony and killing intent brought by blood backlash.

Because deep down, she yearned for light and didn’t want to become a monster, she held onto her resistance, repeatedly guarding her human boundaries.

But if she was destined to fall into darkness, what was the point of this meager struggle?

She painfully closed her eyes.

Unable to endure the backlash of her demonic bloodline any longer, Leanna began to sink, emanating a dense, chilling aura that didn’t belong to her.

At that moment, a whisper floated through the rising breeze—hoarse and worn yet so distinct.

Like a glimmer at the end of the darkness.

“Senpai, I’m late.”

Leanna’s eyes widened in shock, and the demonic aura around her vanished in an instant.

But the joy was fleeting.

Roy was too badly hurt.

His black robe was tattered, revealing broken dragon scales and wounds that split open anew with his every step, turning him into a blood-soaked figure.

He had to lean on his sword just to stand upright.

That faint aura was like a candle flickering in the wind, about to vanish at any moment.

To defeat a Sequence 5 using Sequence 7 was already a miracle; being able to survive was a stroke of luck.

But now, he couldn’t be allowed to die.

That light didn’t belong to him; the mere intersection had been a stroke of fortune.

Since she was destined to fall into darkness, unable to accompany him, how could she just stand by and watch him perish here?

So, Leanna used her last strength to scream out.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Forget about me! You can’t win against him!”

Yet Roy returned her a somewhat forced bitter smile. “Don’t worry; it will all be over soon.”

As always, he charged towards the demon on the throne head-on.

The Flame Demon observed the battered boy, revealing a hint of admiration.

“Ah, so you were the one who killed Diabolus.”

“Your kind often suffers early deaths at the hands of Cultists, yet the survivors are certainly not ordinary.”

“The blood of the False King from Sequence 7… it’s been a while since I’ve seen that.”

After his musings, the Flame Demon narrowed his eyes, displaying an unusual generosity. “You can leave.”

“The Demon Race appreciates strength. And since I’m in a good mood today, leave now, and I’ll spare your life.”

In his eyes, the blood of the False King was no longer part of humanity; it was a gesture of respect towards this unique bloodline.

However, the black-haired boy, gasping heavily, dragged his nearly broken body and took another step forward.

Leanna’s vision was blurred.

The Flame Demon frowned, irritation coloring his tone. “Not leaving?”

“Not leaving.” Roy, under the suffocating pressure, took another step.

“Why?” The Flame Demon seemed curious.

Roy spat out blood, filled with murderous intent. “Because I can’t help it.”

“I can’t help but want to kill you.”

The Flame Demon, Ifrit.

One of the four great kings who survived the Third Demon Tide. It was said that merely revealing his true form could turn human armies to ashes in an instant, reducing countless cities and fortifications to nothing, to the point where humans hardly dared to confront him.

High-ranking demons were terrifying beings capable of rivaling mythical creatures.

Even the slightest projection of his power could effortlessly erase a low-ranking Extraordinary Being.

Rejecting his kindness and speaking so boldly was not just reckless; it was foolish—

But those didn’t matter to Roy.

Because he could not tolerate it.

Leanna might be a bad woman, but she wasn’t truly evil.

She was just someone who liked to joke, loved coffee, was composed on the surface yet a bit indulgent in private. Cruel towards enemies, gentle towards her own, she was merely a senpai who smiled warmly in the

 

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