Chapter 119: Whipping Your Butt with a Bean Stalk |
"Can you help me come up with a way to cause Kolimon to have a significant emotional fluctuation?"
Celt asked Samuel in the Party Voice Chat.
"Hmm… I don't know, I'll try?" Samuel replied promptly.
With deliberate synchronization, whatever Celt knew was effectively what Samuel knew.
Both the headless Samuel fighting below and Samuel's floating head in the sky froze in unison.
No wonder Ethen helped Allenay plot to take down Kolimon.
Earlier Samuel had been thinking that to change the regime, to start a rebellion, ordinary civilians would have to die in large numbers. He wondered why Ethen would tacitly approve of such a thing.
But now it seemed possible that Kolimon's death might actually save more people.
On the flat sky beneath their feet, the clouds had somehow turned from white into black storm clouds.
It started to rain…
After another swing of his spine-sword to cut aside Kolimon's thrust with the Ritual Longsword, Samuel's body suddenly became insubstantial and vanished from where it stood.
When he reappeared, he had already put a considerable distance between himself and Kolimon.
Seeing Samuel create distance, Kolimon guessed Samuel had perceived the true nature of this proto-Divine Realm.
He straightened, still holding the scale in his left hand and the longsword in his right, the longsword hanging slightly, angled toward the flat sky beneath their feet.
"You actually care about the lives of ordinary people?" Kolimon spoke.
If Samuel truly cared about ordinary people, Kolimon thought he might be able to exploit that angle.
But he quickly realized he was wrong.
All Kolimon could read in Samuel's eyes was a look of utter indifference.
Indeed, Samuel did not value human life much.
He simply did not believe people should die in such a boring way.
To him, the world was meaningless; people did not need to chase meaning, but they should pursue happiness and pleasure.
Both Celt and Evina were extensions of that philosophy.
Celt never cared whether his actions had meaning, nor worried whether people would resent him or call him mad for letting others die in happiness.
He just did what made himself happy, what made others feel joy, what he considered "redemptive."
Whether a story ended as a comedy or a tragedy, people should at least have their own taste.
Samuel enjoyed any good drama.
But conversely, if someone tried to threaten him with lives, Samuel would merely shrug and go watch another drama.
"I thought you had given up communicating with me." Headless Samuel spread his left hand and a voice came from his chest.
"Peaceful resolution is best, but I never invite the same person twice," Kolimon raised his longsword at Samuel again, his voice low and authoritative, "However, for you, I will make an exception and invite you once more."
"Surrender, or die?"
Samuel gave a short laugh.
"So you're inviting me? How… magnanimous of you, how eager for talent."
He put one hand on his hip.
"I didn't expect to be so important that His Majesty would break his principles to invite me a second time."
"You seem to know exactly what I am, something I haven't even figured out myself."
Seeing Samuel still evade and refuse to answer, Kolimon moved the sword he pointed at Samuel a little.
Although Samuel had put a good distance between them, inside his proto-Divine Realm, and with no other Divine Realms colliding, Kolimon could appear anywhere he wanted.
"Hey, hey, hey, don't be impatient," Samuel gestured, "I never said I wouldn't accept."
"I actually have a small gift I want to show Your Majesty."
He changed how he addressed Kolimon, as if he truly intended to submit.
Kolimon paused, deciding to hear what Samuel had to say.
Samuel's willing submission would be ideal.
What Kolimon needed to accomplish could be done even with Samuel's corpse, but having Samuel's cooperation would be far better.
Headless Samuel wiggled his finger and flicked it.
In the few seconds Kolimon was slightly distracted, Samuel's head activated Psychological Invisibility and slipped silently to Kolimon's back.
Because no ability could deal damage exceeding Kolimon's tolerance without being transferred away, Kolimon had not put excessive effort into "defense."
Combined with Samuel's Psychological Invisibility and Celt's interference as a Tuner, Kolimon temporarily failed to notice Samuel's head behind him.
The brain with limbs floated up behind Kolimon, holding a string of green bean rods.
The Bean Rod God!
A Law Object specialized for massive posterior attacks.
No buttocks immune!
"Smash your rotten butt!"
Samuel's head jerked sharply behind Kolimon and struck.
At the same moment the Bean Rod God lashed, the Celt floating overhead vanished as if erased by a rubber eraser, quickly dissolving into the air, but in his final instant he snapped his fingers.
He wanted to perform a Combined Technique with Samuel.
Using the Tuner's extraordinary ability, Celt created a small loophole so Samuel's power could better penetrate the defenses covering Kolimon's body.
This could not stop Kolimon from transferring damage, but Kolimon had never possessed the ability to nullify extraordinary abilities themselves.
Samuel, connected in mind with Celt, immediately understood his plan.
He smiled knowingly.
Using the tiny gap Celt created, his ability infiltrated.
Illusion covered reality.
He planted a hemorrhoid into Kolimon.
Just a moment before the Bean Rod God's strike landed.
It wasn't difficult, because in essence it wasn't a serious injury.
Smack!
The Bean Rod God lashed up like a whip.
"Master Lu's Strike!"
The Bean Rod lashed the hemorrhoid.
This would not exceed Kolimon's tolerance.
But it hurt intensely, and the humiliation was severe.
The king's dignity had been gravely offended.
For the first time since the battle began, Kolimon showed a change in expression.
His brows furrowed as he turned his head quickly to look behind him.
Just like that, Celt's request to force Kolimon into a significant emotional fluctuation succeeded.
Then he locked eyes with Samuel and Celt simultaneously.
One second earlier, Celt had used the Travel Guide to briefly merge his body with Samuel's head, overlaying his eyes on Samuel's, just as Evina had recently overlaid her mouth on Samuel's forehead.
Regarding methods against Kolimon's ability, Celt and Samuel had encountered a counter not long ago.
A small shift in thinking made it solvable.
When a head and a person met Kolimon's gaze, what Kolimon saw were not normal eyes, nor Celt's vertical pupils.
They were two translucent blue bubbles.
Inside each bubble were concentric smaller bubbles, some nested, some intertwined.
When staring at those little bubbles, one could see faint, unreal reflections on their surfaces, each reflecting a different scene. Some showed sleeping, some eating, some counting money, some embracing…
These were the dream bubbles Samuel had used on Celt before, where external and internal time flowed at a ratio of forty billion to one.
The Siren's song sounded at Kolimon's ear, laced with soporific magic.
Already emotionally shaken, Kolimon was further distracted by the Siren's song and slipped into a momentary daze.
In that instant, when his spirit became hazy, Celt's ability activated.
The power of the Angel of Redemption.
The surroundings drained of color, fading to nothing; only pure white remained.
When Kolimon snapped out of the daze, he found himself standing in an entirely white room.
White in every direction, nothing else.
Kolimon examined the space calmly, a look of comprehension flickering across his face.
"Through the Law Contract, you can transfer damage inflicted on you that exceeds your body's tolerance to other people in the Kingdom of Liastan. Even mental damage, I assume you can transfer as well, right?"
Celt appeared before Kolimon, six pure white wings unfurled behind him, standing no more than a hundred meters away.
"The difference is, some will die from physical wounds transferred to them, while others will die with their bodies seemingly untouched because their minds were damaged," he added plainly.
"If you refuse to strike ordinary people, honestly, your ability is truly unsolvable."
Celt stood before Kolimon, graceful and composed.
"Indeed." Kolimon nodded, and to everyone's surprise he let go of the scale and longsword in his hands.
The next moment, a massive throne adorned with many jewels appeared behind him.
Then he leaned back, sat down, propped his head with his left hand, his posture steady, showing none of the demeanor expected of a captive.
Having understood Celt's idea, he already knew weapons were useless.
Perhaps aware that escape was now impossible, the dignified king was unusually conciliatory; he did not strike immediately and was willing to converse.
His face still showed no expression, though.
"You don't need to relinquish your weapons," Celt kindly reminded, "this is your dream, you can do anything."
"No need." Kolimon replied calmly, seeming to have expected the current events and showing no concern.
"So, shall we finally have a conversation?" Celt opened his hands.
Kolimon raised the right hand that wasn't propping his head slightly, as if signaling, "Your performance may begin."
"Heh," Celt gave a light laugh, "I think you suit 'Pride' more than Wyatt."
Kolimon did not respond, only watched.
"Fine, let's return to the point, to your unsolvable ability," Celt raised his hand slightly, "If I had met you yesterday, I would have found you troublesome."
"But people must learn."
"Coincidentally, I encountered someone not long ago who provided me some inspiration."
At the word "coincidence," a complex look crossed Kolimon's eyes for a moment.
"Anthony's mental domain." Kolimon nodded.
"You know it?" Celt laughed and asked back. "Someone like you actually cares what abilities your subordinates have?"
Kolimon closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
"That is necessary," he said with certainty. "If I can become a Law Carver, I can protect more people."
"Their deaths will buy the survival of many others."
"And those who die at this moment will find peace in my kingdom."
The "kingdom" here was certainly not Liastan.
"A divine realm?" Celt asked.
"Yes." Kolimon nodded.
"Heh heh." Celt smiled without indicating belief or disbelief, then moved on.
"I don't know if you have a way to break your mental limits, so before your spirit fully collapses, I will stay here and watch over you."
He smiled and raised his right hand, the Lunatic's World Travel Guide appearing in it.
Flipping it open casually, he found the notes he'd written earlier with ease.
"I'm actually not certain whether the version of you standing here is an avatar or the original."
"But judging by your appearance, it should be an avatar."
"Or maybe you can resurrect? Hmm, reasonable. Perhaps as long as the people of Liastan are not all dead, you can revive." Celt snapped the book shut.
"But this time, I win."
"Good." Kolimon's face remained expressionless, his tone lacking any loftiness, yet entirely that of a superior to an inferior.
"I will not invite the same person a third time." he said suddenly.
"I wasn't planning to accept," Celt shrugged, "what you say is rather puzzling."
Kolimon nodded, as if losing patience and unwilling to continue the conversation.
The crown atop his head burst into black-purple flames, which spread and enveloped his whole body.
This resembled Spiritual Flame, but felt different.
It was a flame that could scorch the soul.
He chose to commit suicide.
Celt's brow lifted.
He intended to kill himself and leave? So he still had a contingency.
There was indeed nothing else to keep him here.
"So why do you so desire my surrender?" Celt finally asked the question he had not had time to pose earlier.
Kolimon sat expressionless in the flames, not struggling, answering nothing.
"Fine, if you won't answer, forget it." Celt shrugged.
Kolimon remained seated on the majestic throne, one hand propping his head, eyes closed, silent.
Until his spirit turned to ash within the flames.