I Refused To Be Reincarnated

Chapter 49: Twisted Plans



Chapter 49: Twisted Plans

A sense of dread shook him as he gazed at his once stalwart knight. Max's robust frame had vanished, replaced by sagging skin stretched over bones, devoid of muscle or flesh.

His lips quivered as his ineluctable defeat settled upon him. With his weapon lost and his most loyal aid gone, nothing could deter Gaston's mad fury from obliterating his existence.

'How did we end up in this situation?'

His mind churned in chaos, grappling with the baffling turn of events that led to his, an acolyte's, defeat. His clenched fists trembled.

'He sacrificed his vitality and body without blinking, all to hasten the battle's ending...'

He realised the difference between them. Gaston had used everything to ensure his victory. He didn't know if it was determination or pure folly. But the result lay bare before his eyes as Gaston dismissed the purple mist, ceasing the grimoire's drain on his vitality and revealing his miserable form.

Besides his many wounds and lost eye and arm, his raven-black hairs had turned white. His supple skin became gray and wrinkled, filled with brownish spots.

Some could argue that he paid a terrible price, but in truth? A melee combatant prevailing over a tier two acolyte in a one-on-one scenario was a rarity, an achievement few could boast about. Yet, his victory over both an acolyte and a tier-two knight stretched the bounds of credibility.

He would have never believed anyone recounting such a story, going as far as to call the other party a lunatic. Yet, here he stood, observing the madman... no, the anomaly's grin and open his mouth.

"Finally, the cogs of my destiny are revolving the way they should have," Gaston said, his melancholic tone carried by the night's chilly wind. The metallic taste of blood accompanied each spoken word. But he didn't care.

The truth about the fight was that no spell or blow could have possibly hit him. Every wound on his body was a calculated sacrifice to hasten the battle.

"Monster! With such great potential and that scheming mind, you could have risen our family to the apex in Belloria. No! Even in the world! Why, why, why! Why did you have to be so twisted?"

Lucius roared, venting decades of frustration.

As he stood amidst the aftermath, he couldn't help but imagine the heights Gaston could have reached, especially after unlocking a talent and learning magic.

"Because everything was planned, fool," answered Gaston, his glistening blue eye enlarging and his mocking smile broadening. "You've been wary of me but ignored the real threat for sixteen years. You are this family's traitor, not me." He added, buying a few precious seconds to contain his left shoulder haemorrhage. As he spoke, he ripped his coat, using the fabric to wrap his wound.

"Sure, I'm a little weird and lack empathy. But what are you? A low-level noble and acolyte trying to make grand plans. Pah! You didn't even realise that your greatest enemy is the closest to you."

A deep frown covered Lucius' brows. Was he lying? Why would he? The moment he started chanting a spell, Gaston could swiftly end his life. Mind games were needed when his victory was already set in stone. Thus, his mind desperately raced to deduce a part of the truth.

"The closest. You mean... Eleanor?" Lucius asked, his pupils dilating in disbelief. How could his straightforward wife be his enemy?

"Why do you think I remained in this village's shitty suburbs? How do I know about Alina and her son? All because Eleanor knew years ago. That's why you are a fool. Everything was in front of your eyes, yet you were blind!" Gaston exclaimed, his spit flying and his forehead's veins throbbing under his wrinkled skin. "But don't worry.

You'll be able to atone for your stupidity. It's time to die."

Done bandaging his shoulder, he dashed towards Lucius to end the clown he once called father.

Desperate to protect himself, Lucius raised Max's sword, refusing to die after touching the truth.

'Eleanor had been scheming against me for years? Bullshit,' he thought, resolving to flee the manor and investigate this story thoroughly after catching up with her.

However, he couldn't help but think, what if...

Sadly, Gaston didn't give him any more time to ponder. Moving like a ghost, he closed the distance in a second.

Focusing on his movements, a realisation struck him. Gaston seemed slower than before. Despite his nonchalance, the cursed item had weakened him.

"I can do it!" He screamed, bolstering his determination with a battle cry before swinging his sword decisively.

Who was he kidding? When did he hold a sword for the last time? Was it ten, twenty, or forty years ago? He had no technique, no mastery, wielding the delicate weapon like a hammer.

Gaston sidestepped the falling sword, smirking disdainfully at the vain attempt. Then, he raised his right leg, swinging it with grace at Lucius' hands.

The horrid noise of bones breaking reached his ears, sounding like pleasant music. The sword clanked to the ground the next instant.

"Argh!" Lucius knelt, holding his broken fingers, agonising screams escaping his wide open mouth.

Meanwhile, Gaston approached, his withered body towering and casting ominous shadows on him. His usual creepy smile stretched his wrinkly face, and his eye shone a malevolent light filled with perverse joy. After all, he was about to start his favorite game.

"Where did you send them?"

"G-Go to hell," Lucius answered, knowing what would follow yet unwilling to give the anomaly the satisfaction he sought. But behind his determined facade, his heart trembled in horror.

Pah!

With a loud noise, Gaston kicked him on his right side, breaking his arm in the process.

"ARGH!"

"I-I don't know. I asked Max to escort them away without telling me!" He screamed, trying to bluff his way out.

Pah!

Gaston kicked his left side this time.

"ARGH!"

The scene repeated itself twice more, with Gaston breaking his legs before the pain grew too unbearable. Unlike Theodor, he gave up after a few minutes.

"I... I'll tell you, please stop," Lucius screamed. Snot and tears mixed on his contorted noble face in a disgusting sight.

"Sight... What a disappointment. The old apothecary didn't say anything until he died. Look at you..." Gaston's voice held a strong sense of disappointment and disapproval over Lucius' weak-mindedness.

"But you know what? Until the end, you are a fool," He said, exploding into boisterous laughter. "They are exactly where I wanted them to be!"

Pah!

"I just want to make you suffer. Hahaha."

Gaston's evil laugh reverberated in the empty manor, mixed with the pained screams of the man once known as Baron Lucius Riverwood.


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