Alchemy Master

Chapter 1081, The Incubus Race

Translator: Silavin

In the face of death, some people choose to meet it with courage and composure, while others, beneath death’s long shadow, reveal the most hideous face that Human nature was capable of wearing.

Felletin belonged to the second kind.

He feared death.

To extend his own lifespan, to grasp at that legendary Immortality, he had betrayed his own people and gone so far as to enter into cooperation with Foreign Races.

“Now’s the time. Fellian, go and wake up our Princess!”

Though it was plainly obvious that Avril had not yet completed the ceremony, Felletin was clearly unwilling to wait until that moment arrived.

“Yes!” Fellian acknowledged the command and made his way towards the Tree of Life.

“Wake up, Princess.” A vicious grin spread across his face as intense light gathered in his hand, and he reached out to seize Avril.

*Bang!* Yet in the very next instant, his entire body was sent flying backwards. He tumbled across the ground for some distance before finally coming to a stop, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth, his figure utterly wretched.

When Fellian raised his head again, his eyes were filled with panic.

At this moment, Avril appeared to have been completely unaffected. However, those luminous green sparks surrounding her, dancing like tiny sprites, were rising and falling in turbulent agitation.

It was evident that those green lights were shielding her.

“Your Majesty…” He dragged himself in a pitiful state to Felletin’s side, his face full of shame.

“It seems like I need to do it myself.” Felletin cast him only a cold glance before his gaze returned to Avril. Then, gripping the Life Scepter, he drew closer to the Tree of Life.

*Heh heh…* At that very moment, a grating, discordant laugh rang out.

Upon hearing that sound, Felletin’s expression visibly shifted. A cold gleam flashed through his eyes, and then he turned, looking towards the three figures that came sweeping in.

These three figures were each distinct in appearance. One of them was a Blood Beastman.

What had caused Felletin to change his expression was the fact that the aura emanating from all three of these figures was not much weaker than his own.

Perhaps one of them alone might fall short, but should the three of them act together, they would be more than capable of overwhelming him.

And Felletin’s gaze did not fall upon the Blood Beastman. Instead, it settled upon the figure standing at the centre of the three.

It was a young man of a bewitching and sinister appearance, who looked to be quite young. Yet the fluctuations that radiated faintly from his body told Felletin that this person’s cultivation was in no way inferior to his own.

“A member of the Nightmare Race…” Felletin’s expression was deeply unpleasant. He barked at the Blood Beastman, “Why is he here!?”

Though he and the Blood Beastmen had dealings, those dealings did not extend to the Incubus Race.

The Incubus Race was not one of the Races of this continent.

Originally, the continent had no such Race. However, Abyss Demons had once invaded the land, waging war upon the Myriad Races.

In that war, no one could say how many Races had been wiped from existence.

Bones piled into mountains, blood flowed into seas.

That territory came to be known as the Weeping God’s Land.

The Incubus Race was a Race that had been born from within that mountain of bones and sea of blood.

Perhaps because the corpses of Abyss Demons had also been part of that horrific landscape, the Incubus Race carried the aura of Demons about them, and even possessed a portion of Abyss Demons’ ability.

Because of this, the Incubus Race was reviled by the Myriad Races, and several of the continent’s top tier Races had even joined forces to sweep them out.

A Race that should by rights have been exterminated was now standing before Felletin. How could his expression not change?

Most critically of all, to become entangled with this Incubus Race would inevitably draw the collective assault of the Myriad Races.

The Blood Beastmen were brutal, true, yet they were still counted among the Myriad Races of the continent.

But the Incubus Race, on this continent, was a Race regarded as Demonic.

“What does Elder Felletin mean by this?”

The Blood Beastman gave a cold, sinister smile. “Was I not afraid that Elder Felletin might slip up? So I especially invited this Lord here, to lend Elder Felletin some support.”

Upon hearing these words, Felletin’s expression darkened sharply.

Yet it was precisely from that bewitching young man that Felletin felt a sensation of extreme, absolute danger. That was the reason he had not made an immediate move.

“Is this how your Blood Beastmen honours its promises?” Felletin’s voice carried a thin edge of fury as he directed it at the Blood Beastman.

He and the Blood Beastmen had long since come to an agreement. By making use of their Blood Devouring Poison, colourless and odourless yet perfectly suited to subdue the Elf Race, he would complete the most critical step. Everything that followed was entirely beyond the Blood Beastmen’s purview. They were to wait until he had brought the entire Elf Race under his control before discussing any further cooperation.

Before he had obtained that thing, this unexpected complication naturally left Felletin deeply displeased.

Faced with Felletin’s furious shout, a thin, vicious gleam flashed through the depths of the Blood Beastman’s eyes and then vanished.

“Why bother saying anything to an old man who has one foot in the grave already? Just make him hand over the thing I want.” Yet before Felletin could order them to leave, the bewitching young man of the Incubus Race suddenly spoke up.

“You insolent wretch! Did your Race’s predecessors teach you nothing about how to conduct yourself!?” At those words, Felletin erupted in absolute fury. He let out a roar of rage, and with a sweep of his sleeve, a fierce and violent gust of wind tore through the air, shooting towards the bewitching young man.

*Bang!* Faced with that fierce, surging blast of wind, the bewitching young man of the Incubus Race showed not the slightest trace of alarm on his face. He made no discernible movement whatsoever, yet the moment that blast of wind reached a metre’s distance from him, it was as though it had struck an invisible wall and directly blew apart.

[He’s a true expert!] Witnessing this hand that left not a single visible trace of effort, Felletin’s expression sank. Though what he had launched was only a probing strike, it was not something an ordinary individual could withstand. This person before him was indeed no ordinary figure.

“By your standing, you have not yet earned the right to my respect.” Even as Felletin stood in astonishment, that bewitching young man’s cold voice sounded suddenly beside his ear.

*Boom!*

Felletin’s heart jumped. He swung the Life Scepter in his right hand in a great arc, smashing it towards that direction with full force. At the same moment, the Momentum he had spent an entire lifetime mastering swept outward, enveloping that entire expanse of space within its domain.

*Crack!*

Yet what shook Felletin even more deeply was this: his strike landed without giving him the sensation of having struck a person at all. Instead, he felt his own arm being caught, clasped firmly within a slender hand.

*Aah!* In the next instant, Felletin’s body rotated in a full spiral, and his face contorted with raw, agonising pain. A shrill, wretched cry tore itself from his throat and rang out into the air.

*Bang!*

As Felletin’s body shot backwards, trailing drops of blood, a single sharp glance confirmed it. His right arm had been severed cleanly at the shoulder.

“You… you insolent…”

Felletin pressed his hand to the wound where his arm had been severed, his face drained of all colour.

At this moment, it was clear that he had received his just deserts. His carefully laid scheme, so thoroughly planned and prepared, was likely to serve only as a stepping stone for another.