Soul of Negary

Chapter 478: Dying in despair

"I… I'll take you there" Parry's expression went completely pale while his gaze discreetly glanced towards behind Ryan: "The treasury is in a secret vault, I know where it is, I'll take you to it, please don't kill me"

"Then lead the way!" Ryan let go so that Parry fell down, then urged him: "Hurry up, otherwise I'll kill you right now"

Parry stood up without saying anything and swiftly led the way towards a certain part of the manor. Ryan walked closely behind Parry, gradually relaxing his muscles.

Every battle was a risk, and every combatant must use 200% of what they can usually muster, otherwise, it would be them who died.

For this reason, Pugilists who are forced to fight frequently and couldn't nurture their bodies or advance to become supernatural usually don't live past their prime.

Leading the way, Parry opened the door to the reading room and pointed at a painting on the wall: "The switch to open the secret vault is behind the painting"

"Go and switch it on, as long as I get what I want, I'm not going to kill you" for the past few days, during his monitoring, Ryan had noticed that Aureum put a lot of trust in this child. On many occasions when other people came to ask for 'reimbursement', it was this child who retrieved the funds to pay.

What I didn't expect was for Aureum to suddenly gain so much strength.

It's a good thing that he was still inexperienced in combat and I managed to take advantage of that to finish the battle quickly.

I'm sure I killed Aureum the previous time, so there must be a reason why he had not only revived but also grown significantly stronger.

If I find that secret, I might be able to advance and become a supernatural Pugilist, or perhaps even more!

Ryan's gaze reflected his determination. He came from a rural farmer's family, but during his initial training with [Bone Forge Art], he had already displayed his incredible talents.

However, the lack of resources was a huge obstacle. Without resources as support, unless someone was born with a superior constitution, it would be impossible for them to advance any further, as the blood-changing process would kill them.

To ensure that his path as a Pugilist didn't stop prematurely, Ryan had decided to pledge himself to a small aristocrat in his hometown, thus receiving his support and aid.

By becoming a dog for the aristocracy, Ryan obtained what he needed to advance further, after which he assassinated that aristocrat to further his dream, gradually turning the successor into his pawn.

He understood his place in the world. It was next to impossible for those without peerage to actually obtain peerage, so his only choice was to control the aristocrat from the shadows. Additionally, by the time the heir grows up, he would also be supported by 'justice', being able to call upon the aid of the church as well as other aristocrats to remove or eliminate Ryan.

Knowing this, after squeezing every last bit of resources from that aristocrat's house, Ryan used the excuse of traveling to further advance as a Pugilist to take all the resources with him and fled.

He had done many dirty things: assassination, theft, robbing merchant groups on trade routes. To break through the limit of humans and become a supernatural Pugilist, to change his own fate, Ryan had broken every last bottom line he ever had.

This was his own enlightenment; he fully believed that as long as he had enough resources, he would be able to advance and become a supernatural Pugilist.

At that point, all he needs to do would be to change his identity and move to another country or region, where he would leap up the ranks of society to become one above many.

Watching as Parry moved the painting aside and turned the switch behind it to reveal a passage, Ryan grinned and headed inside. He then put up his hand behind himself to firmly stop an incoming sword.

Turning around, he saw that the attacker was another young boy, Ramillies. Clutching the sword with both hands, his body was trembling. He had already put all the strength he had into it, but the sword doesn't even want to move.

"Your heartbeat was too loud, boy" Ryan waved his hand to fling sword away, then grabbed Ramillies by his neck. He then kicked Parry who was rushing towards him to send the boy rolling into the secret vault.

The secret vaults of aristocrats are always rigged with plenty of traps, so he needed some fodder to test them out.

Dragging Ramillies, whose face had become flushed due to the lack of air, by his neck, Ryan headed into the secret vault, where Parry was struggling to stand back up.

He scanned through several shelves to see that the boxes here were mostly empty, several small chests were left open to display how hollow they were. While those aristocrats had to mind their so-called dignity, it couldn't be helped that each and every one of them were so diligent.

Fortunately, the shelves weren't completely empty. Heaving a sigh of relief, Ryan grabbed Parry and tossed him towards some small wooden shelves, from which several arrows could be seen shooting out from the corner of the room. Several places on the floor also sank down.

Collapsing where he fell, Parry was unconscious with numerous wooden spikes all over his body. The most critical wound he sustained was a spike in his throat that had punctured all the way through. His blood was quickly flowing out from the wound, giving him not too much time left to live.

Ryan lightly leapt over the trap then tossed Ramillies forward. Stepping on Ramillies' body, he observed for a bit before opening a box on the shelf with some bandages wrapped around his hand, revealing what looked like dried meat before putting it into his bag.

Ryan worked quickly, and there wasn't a lot of wealth left in the Eskin manor. After cleaning them out, he turned his gaze to the two little boys, Parry was already on his deathbed, so the only one left was the one under his feet.

He couldn't possibly leave witnesses alive, even after changing his identity, this might still come back to bite him someday, especially considering how fluid the value of an aristocrat's dignity was.

Once this was exposed, he would surely be ostracized by the aristocrats of any country, as aristocracy placed importance in their so-called etiquette, at least outwardly.

Ryan didn't feel anything at all towards his actions. For the past few years, he had already killed too many innocent people to count, so two more young boys aren't really significant.

Looking down at Ramillies below his feet, Ryan raised his leg and stomped on him with considerable force. Like a worm, Ramillies' body squirmed, some blood coughed out from his mouth before it powerlessly went limp.

Not wanting to draw more attention, Ryan took all the resources he had gathered and swiftly left the building. While he was dreaming of the wonderful future where he would change his status and become a supernatural Pugilist, a huge gust of wind as well as a breath of extreme heat struck his body.

Without being able to resist at all, Ryan's body was sent flying like he was struck by a speeding car. All he felt was his body breaking into pieces like a ripped fabric doll. As blood spilled out from his mouth and nose, he knew that his innards had all been turned to mush.

As the resources in his bag fell all over the ground, Ryan wanted to struggle and stand back up, but couldn't muster any strength at all. All it took was a collision for his life to go into countdown towards death, even his mind was becoming blurred.

"I… still haven't… become… a Pugilist… I…" Ryan's eyes tried to open as wide as possible while muttering under his breath, then finally lost its shine.

…

Meanwhile, Dolan didn't care at all about the person he just crashed into and continued his mad dash into the Eskin secret vault, only to see the young boy collapsed in a puddle of blood.

Lightly embracing him, Dolan could feel the boy's life rapidly slipping away in between his fingers. Dolan had no solution and no way of saving him, even his own life was on a countdown, so despair swiftly enveloped him.

At this point, he heard a series of panicked footsteps from behind him.

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