What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

The door to the pitch-black prison cell opened.

White light outlined the shape of the doorway, and then a dark silhouette appeared within the frame.

Leon entered the solitary cell alone and looked toward Ophelia, who had once again been bound to the iron chair.

Ophelia showed little reaction.

Her gaze was vacant, and dried tear stains still lingered at the corners of her eyes.

While tied to the fortress wall, she had witnessed the entire process—from her father being killed to the army that had come to rescue her being driven back.

That overwhelming despair had utterly shattered her will.

The Earl had never imagined he would lose.

Neither had Ophelia.

She had even considered the possibility of dying at Leon’s hands after being kidnapped.

But afterward, Leon would inevitably have suffered her father’s terrifying revenge.

Yet the outcome had been that Leon killed her father instead.

Fate had truly played an enormous joke on both father and daughter.

“The time has come, Ophelia.”

Leon’s voice remained calm.

A trace of awareness finally returned to Ophelia’s eyes as she raised her head to look at him.

“If you’re going to kill me, then stop talking.”

“Are you still waiting for me to beg for mercy?”

Realizing that this was her final moment, Ophelia took a deep breath.

“If you’re going to do it, then do it.”

“I’m still his daughter, after all.”

Leon said nothing further.

He began activating the Cursed Blood inside Ophelia’s body.

Just as with the Earl, Leon felt neither hatred nor pity toward her.

Killing her was merely a necessary step.

He had no desire to torment her.

Nor did he intend to offer any meaningless sympathy.

Ophelia immediately sensed death approaching on an instinctive level.

A cold numbness spread from the center of her spine throughout her entire body.

She felt no pain.

Only instinctive terror.

She struggled to suppress that fear, maintaining a proud expression as she stared unblinkingly at Leon, hoping that she could at least preserve her dignity in death.

She was the daughter of ”the Earl,” Isaac Marstan.

The princess of the Underworld.

However...

As the petrification spread throughout her body and finally climbed toward her neck, preparing to reach her head...

The accumulated terror finally reached its peak at the very brink of death.

Ophelia had witnessed countless bloody scenes.

Even when Leon had pointed a gun at her, she had remained unmoved.

But that was only because, deep down, she had always believed Leon wouldn’t actually kill her then.

Protected by her father all her life...

She had never experienced such absolute despair.

The crack finally appeared in the shell she had wrapped around herself.

A flicker of uncontrollable fear flashed through her eyes.

Just before her proud expression collapsed beneath that terror—

Leon pushed Time Acceleration to its absolute limit.

The curse petrified Ophelia’s head at the fastest possible speed.

Afterward, Leon guided the curse of the Cursed Blood deep into every corner of her body, completely draining the last trace of life from the shell that remained.

Her petrified body began showing signs of Saltification.

In the end...

Leon still allowed her to die while barely maintaining that proud expression.

Some time later...

Ophelia’s petrified body gradually crumbled apart, collapsing into shattered chunks of salt.

After dealing with Ophelia, Leon left the room and headed toward the chamber where Bishop Beckett was being held.

Rena and Weiss were already waiting inside.

Both had changed into the wax-coated protective suits they normally wore when conducting hazardous experiments.

The hooded robes completely covered their bodies, and protective bird-beak masks concealed their faces.

The petrified Bishop Beckett remained tied to an iron chair.

His left arm had been forced outward.

An iron basin had already been placed beneath it, while waterproof waxed paper covered the surrounding floor.

In Rena’s arms rested a Head-Hunting Rabbit.

When Leon entered, both Weiss and Rena nodded, indicating that everything was ready.

If not for completing the ritual...

Leon could have allowed Bishop Beckett to die painlessly right then.

With a thought, Leon temporarily lifted the curse of the Cursed Blood.

Bishop Beckett awakened with a violent convulsion before breaking into a fit of heavy coughing.

He weakly raised his head.

It took several moments before his eyes finally focused on the people standing before him.

Leon Set.

Bishop Beckett first revealed a puzzled expression.

He had no idea what had happened outside.

He didn’t even know what time it was.

For one brief moment, he even believed the battle had not yet begun.

Then Leon drew the object hanging from his waist.

A silver longsword.

Its crossguard bore the engraved emblem of the sun—

The Earl Foyle Family Crest.

Bishop Beckett’s pupils trembled violently.

He instantly understood what it meant for that sword to be in Leon’s hands.

The shock left his eyes wide open.

It was Earl Foyle’s personal sword.

A Sacred Relic specially forged for him.

Combined with the Divine Armament Blessing, it strengthened the very concept of cutting, allowing the sword wind that entered a target to instantly split into dozens of slashes, reducing its victim to countless pieces with a single stroke.

Provided...

The blade actually struck its target.

After a long silence...

The light gradually faded from Bishop Beckett’s eyes.

His gaze became vacant.

Yet very soon, he regained his composure.

He accepted reality.

“The Earl is dead.”

“I won.”

Leon personally informed him of the outcome.

“Then do what you came here to do.”

Bishop Beckett replied in an exceedingly calm tone, as though they were discussing the weather.

He knew...

Leon fully understood why he could not be allowed to live.

Nor did he himself have any intention of serving another master.

Long ago, he had decided to devote his loyalty to one man alone.

And at that same moment...

He had also decided that one day, he would die alongside him.

“The one who’s going to kill you isn’t me.”

Leon replied.

“So... I’ll be used as a sacrifice?”

Bishop Beckett glanced around and quickly understood his role.

“When you do it...”

“Make it quick, ladies.”

Leon nodded toward the two women.

Rena steadied herself mentally before releasing the Head-Hunting Rabbit from her arms.

The rabbit immediately sprang forward.

The blade-like joint on its leg sliced open the artery in Bishop Beckett’s wrist.

Immediately afterward...

Weiss activated the Exhaust Blood Blessing.

She manipulated Bishop Beckett’s blood, forcing it rapidly toward the wound, as though squeezing both his heart and blood vessels to drain every last drop from his body.

Blood immediately poured from the wound like water being emptied from a jug.

It splashed steadily into the iron basin below.

Before long...

All color vanished from Bishop Beckett’s face.

Even his lips turned pale.

He gasped desperately for air.

Yet no matter how hard he breathed, it felt as though he could no longer draw breath.

The severe blood loss rapidly plunged his body into oxygen deprivation.

“You no longer have any road back.”

Bishop Beckett suddenly spoke.

“Since you’ve defeated that lord...”

“Then please don’t lose so easily to anyone else.”

The era that belonged to the Earl...

Had finally come to an end ahead of its destined time.

“Of course.”

Leon answered solemnly as he looked at the man who, in a certain sense, had also been one of his teachers.

Bishop Beckett’s eyes gradually lost focus.

As suffocation drew closer, his vision steadily darkened...

Until everything became pitch black.

Weiss silently sensed his heartbeat weakening...

Until it stopped completely.

Even so, she waited for quite some time before finally delivering her verdict.

“It’s over.”

Leon stepped forward and carefully examined the body himself.

After confirming Bishop Beckett’s death, he turned toward the two women.

“Let’s go.”

There was still plenty to deal with after executing Ophelia and Bishop Beckett.

The bodies could be disposed of later.

Leaving the cellar that served as the dungeon, Leon let out a weary sigh as he stepped outside.

Just then, the sound of galloping hooves approached.

Turning his head, he saw Simon riding back on horseback.

Simon had been sent to monitor the retreat of the remaining enemy forces.

“How did it go?”

Leon asked.

“We followed them all the way to the harbor.”

“We saw every one of their ships leave port.”

“The overwhelming majority have already withdrawn.”

Simon reported.

“The overwhelming majority?”

Leon immediately caught Simon’s wording.

That meant a small number of enemies had remained on the island.

“They caused a serious stampede during the retreat.”

“There are quite a few corpses and wounded left scattered along the mountain road.”

“The survivors have already been taken into custody by our brothers.”

“Then, from the mountains, I watched the harbor.”

“They fled in such a hurry that some people failed to board the ships.”

“Some even jumped straight into the sea and started swimming...”

“Haha...”

Recalling how miserable their retreat had looked, Simon couldn’t suppress a laugh before continuing.

“At least fifty or so people were left stranded at the harbor with nowhere to go.”

“About half of them immediately left the harbor and headed toward the eastern side of the island.”

“They went east?”

Leon frowned.

The western side of Arend Island contained the mines—the location of the Labyrinth—as well as the harbor.

That entire side was now under Leon’s control.

On the eastern side, separated by the mountains...

Lay two small fishing villages.

As well as the Viscount Arend Estate.

Had those men become so desperate that they intended to steal fishing boats from the villagers to escape?

No...

Deserters driven into a corner were capable of anything.

Believing death was inevitable, they could easily turn into bandits, committing robbery, rape, and murder.

Nothing would be surprising.

Naturally, Leon had no desire for the chaos to spread to the eastern side of the island.

If too many civilians died...

Or even the Viscount himself met with an accident...

It would inevitably attract a high-level security investigation.

That would become another major problem for Leon to deal with.

“Did you send people after them?”

Leon asked seriously.

“The enemy still outnumbers us.”

“And they’re much better equipped.”

“I simply didn’t have enough men with me.”

Simon answered with a guilty expression.

“But they don’t have horses.”

“They’re running on foot.”

“The ones with horses had already boarded ships and escaped.”

Leon quickly estimated the situation.

If they departed immediately on horseback...

They should be able to intercept those men before they reached the settlements—

Perhaps even sooner.

“Gather more brothers.”

“Bring weapons.”

“Come with me.”

“You’ll handle the situation at the harbor.”

“I’ll deal with the group heading east.”

Leon immediately issued his orders.

“Sir, there’s no need for you to handle something this minor personally...”

Simon began.

“If you people are seen by the locals or by the Viscount’s family, how are you going to explain yourselves?”

“I have to appear in person.”

“I’ll go change into a uniform first!”

Leon made the decision.

His subordinates...

Like the stranded enemy soldiers...

Were all Underworld mercenaries.

To the civilians—and to the Viscount and his daughter—

There was virtually no difference between them.

But Leon possessed an official identity.

With him present, at the very least they could provide a believable explanation.

The Earl’s fleet had approached Arend Island so openly.

It was impossible that Viscount Arend’s household had noticed nothing.

Leon would also have to find a way to smooth things over and prevent them from spreading the news everywhere.

The beautiful Viscount’s daughter whom he had encountered twice before immediately came to mind.

Hopefully...

By the time he arrived...

That young lady would still be safe and sound.