Chapter 187: Reasons and Origins

His clothes were torn, revealing solid muscle covered in an unknown transparent armor that didn't budge under the blade's slide.

Sparks flew and struck his face.

"Another damn monster?!"

The leader let out a shrill cry.

But he chose to strike first—there was no time to dodge—and this slash achieved nothing, not even slowing the opponent's charge.

Unsurprisingly, he was slammed to the ground.

Thud.

His head was seized and slammed hard into the earth.

Half his face, frozen in shock and terror, sank into the soil.

What the hell is this strength?!

This is mid-sixth tier?? You could convince me I was pinned by that Xiaoxiong just now!!

"Where are you from? What organization? Why target the tree spirits of Windwall Forest? And what exactly are those things attacking tree spirits?"

Luo De fired off a string of questions.

His tone was grim, his grip tightening:

"I'll count to three. If you don't answer, I'll break your fingers one by one."

But the man was the type who wouldn't cry until he saw the coffin—he roared:

"Andy! Hawkins! Come help me kill this bastard!!!"

"You think I'm joking?"

Luo De drove a straight punch into the back of his skull, driving it deeper into the ground, dirt spraying.

Of course, he held back—he couldn't crush the skull and then ask questions.

Just enough force to stun, not injure.

While the man was dazed, Luo De seized his right index finger, twisted it backward with a crack, then wrenched it left and right, tearing off skin and flesh together.

"Aaaahhhhh!!!!"

Amid the screams.

Two spiritual warriors lunged at him with blades.

Luo De flung the severed finger at one man's face—splat—blood smeared across his features.

With 【Dragon Scale Technique】, he had no need to dodge.

He caught both steel blades bare-handed; sharp screeching and sparks erupted as the blades locked fast, immovable.

"Idiot! Got him!"

The blue-haired swordsman sneered.

As he spoke, his steel sword shimmered with spiritual light, then burst into green dust that, as if alive, slammed into Luo De's face.

It seeped into his lungs with each breath.

"This is my 【Corrupted Spore Sword】, hard-won after much effort. I admit your spiritual defense technique is impressive—but how do you defend against destruction inside your body?"

The man, convinced of victory, even took time to explain.

The other, fearing contamination by the 【Corrupted Spores】, dropped his weapon and stepped back beside the blue-haired swordsman.

He pointed at Luo De's waist: "I want those two swords."

Blue-haired swordsman: "Are you joking? I killed him."

"I still want one. Look at my sword—it's bent from his grip."

The leader, writhing on the ground, snarled:

"Bastards! What are you doing?! This isn't some ordinary sixth-tier! Go finish him off!"

But the blue-haired swordsman dismissed him.

"No matter how extraordinary, he's still human. My 【Corrupted Spore Sword】 was bought from Amel—even a seventh-tier lizardman can't resist it. In five seconds, he'll be a puddle of pus."

Before he finished speaking, he felt something block the sunlight behind him.

Just as he turned, his whole body jolted—agony slammed through his back, piercing straight to his chest.

"Huh…"

He couldn't speak; blood poured endlessly from his mouth.

Only when he looked down did he see—a bloody, massive hand protruding from his chest.

"H-How is this possible…"

Luo De discarded the corpse, his expression calm as he stared at the remaining man.

A layer of pink-purple wrathfire rose, burning away all blood and internal organs from his arm.

Under the pink-purple glow, his face looked terrifying.

The man was paralyzed with horror and instantly sought to flee.

He hurled a small leather ball that burst midair into thick smoke.

"Boring."

Luo De's arm moved—【Sacrificial Sword】 drew itself.

A golden sword-shadow sliced through the air; spiritual energy coalesced into a blade-wave, piercing the air with a piercing shriek.

Whoosh—

The 【Screaming Blade Wave】 cut through the smoke, severing the fleeing man at the waist. His upper body collapsed to the ground; his lower half kept running, legs pumping for dozens of meters before finally collapsing.

The leader stared in disbelief.

This spiritual fluctuation—you could convince me he's seventh-tier!!

For ages, the gap between sixth and seventh tier has been immense; crossing that boundary in single combat has been nearly impossible since ancient times, appearing only in newspaper novels or legendary masters' biographies.

Of course, this kind of coordinated assault with specialized gear doesn't count.

Only recently did Isabella Argyle, the young scion of the Argyle family, single-handedly slay a seventh-tier while at peak sixth-tier—an extremely rare official record.

And this man—his power, his defense, this level of spiritual fluctuation—

As a half-seventh-tier himself, he could swear this man was on Isabella Argyle's level.

The moment this thought formed,

He lost all will to resist.

Meanwhile, on the other battlefield,

The seventh-tier druid's Xiaoxiong form showed no mercy—no one could survive a single claw strike; they were now in the final phase of hunting and finishing off survivors.

"Same old rule—I count to three."

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything—just don't kill me."

"That depends on how honest you are."

The leader immediately pulled out a magical contract and spilled every secret—everything he should and shouldn't say.

Quickly,

Luo De learned the full picture.

Gnome Pete's intel was correct—these were all members of the Ruin Brotherhood, and this leader wasn't even the true mastermind.

That was a plague mage named Amel.

The Ruin Brotherhood had originally been sent by their leader to support the Coral Bay rebellion, but encountered Amel in Dusk Hills.

He made no secret of being a plague mage—even the Ruin Brotherhood, a sewer-dwelling gang, avoided him.

But he expressed sincere admiration for the Brotherhood and offered them full magical support.

The Ruin Brotherhood never had logistics—they simply raided wherever they went, taking what they could find on the spot.

Their gear quality was obviously terrible.

Fortunately, Amel was a remarkably versatile mage—plague mage was merely one of his many professions.

In return, the Ruin Brotherhood only had to deliver captured intelligent races for Amel's experiments.

Tree spirits, sirens, ghost pirates, tieflings—all acceptable.

No one knew what the plague mage intended to do.

But clearly, the Ruin Brotherhood had few kind souls; no one cared to investigate the mystery, especially since most of this operation consisted of humans, goblins, and jackalweres.

But clearly, there weren't many kind-hearted people in the Ruins Brotherhood; no one cared to uncover secrets, and most of those involved in this operation were humans, dog-men, and jackal-men.

Had Amel not specifically rejected goblins, jackalweres, and humans as samples, several of them would vanish mysteriously every night.

If Amel hadn't happened to need samples from humans, dog-men, and jackal-men, several people in this group would have vanished mysteriously every night.

(End of chapter)