Chapter 39: The Interception and the Hypnotic Potion

“Mr. Modi, heed my words, do not resist, become my s*ave.”

Gern’s resistance gradually ceased, and the resolute glint in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a vacant stare.

“I… I will obey… will… will obey…”

His lips began to murmur involuntarily, yet a defiant voice still screamed from the depths of his heart. This caused his eyes to flicker between clarity and blankness, as if two wills were wrestling for control of his body.

“Tsk, what a nuisance. As expected of a Third-tier mage, their mental strength is truly formidable.”

“Still… the stronger you are, the greater an asset you’ll become to us later.”

Leon’s smile grew increasingly wild. The next moment, a lightning-fast shadow streaked past, and the young man, who should have been inside the tent, had vanished.

“Who! Who did that!”

At that moment, Leon’s nerves were stretched to their breaking point, but no sound echoed back to him. This growing unease prompted him to rush outside the tent, where he saw all the other tents flung open, leaving him utterly devastated.

Rage burned fiercely within him, but with no target for his fury, he could only throw his head back and roar at the sky.

“Who the hell was that! If you’ve got the guts, show yourself!”

As if his words had conjured it, a shadow materialized from the darkness. This person was none other than Gern, who had previously overheard their conversation.

Earlier that morning, after Gern had finished eavesdropping on the two, he sensed that something wasn’t quite right. The assessment had only just begun; even if the students had prior knowledge, they shouldn’t be killing magical beasts already. He thus concluded that the pair must have discovered him and switched to a seemingly ordinary topic of conversation.

With this realization, Gern silently moved into the shadow of a large tree and activated his Netherworld Steps. After that, he had clearly heard the subsequent conversation between them. This had already been a clear warning to Gern. As for why he only arrived now, it was because Gern, to be safe, had sought out Miss Snow for backup.

By this time, the group had begun their operations, and Snow had noticed occasional freezes on the virtual screen in the sky. Initially, she hadn’t paid much attention to such details, simply attributing it to outdated equipment in need of replacement. However, once Gern recounted what he had seen and heard, Snow realized that something was amiss.

To avoid alerting them, Snow did not initiate a large-scale arrest operation. Firstly, she wanted to capture all these infiltrating Heretic God Cult members in one sweep. Secondly, she needed to ensure the smooth continuation of the assessment. This was why the current scene unfolded as it did.

Returning to the present, Leon’s face was etched with shock.

“Netherworld Steps! You… you’re also from the Chaos Divine Cult?”

Gern raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in disdain.

“Who said I was part of the Chaos Divine Cult?”

“Then how did you…”

In a flash, Leon recalled another faction, one that, like the Chaos Divine Cult, wielded powers originating from Chaos.

“You… you’re from Nightfall?”

“Nightfall?”

Gern frowned. He had never heard the name Nightfall before; perhaps it was an obscure, minor organization. Seeing Gern’s bewildered expression, Leon felt a pang of confusion himself.

In his mind, apart from the traitors of the Chaos Divine Cult, only Nightfall possessed the ability to utilize the cultivation techniques of the Chaos Divine Cult. Essentially, both factions worshipped the God of Chaos, but due to conflicting ideologies, they often clashed. Since this person wasn’t from Nightfall, they were most likely a traitor from the Chaos Divine Cult. In that case, things would be much simpler.

“Heh, so you’re just a mere traitor.”

“How dare a mere traitor like you abduct someone right in front of me!”

Upon realizing Gern wasn’t from Nightfall, Leon’s courage surged, and the aura of a peak Second-tier practitioner erupted from him. Gern’s eyes narrowed slightly. A longsword, entirely crimson and shaped like a feather, was already clutched in his hand. This sword was the finest one from the pendant, specifically left for him by Lilia, and was named Blazefeather. The Blazefeather sword was engraved with fire-elemental magic patterns, making it highly compatible with Heavenly Sun, the cultivation technique Gern had recently learned. As Gern’s cultivation technique fully unleashed its power, the sword, too, burst into flames.

“This!”

Leon was startled by the aura emanating from Gern. Despite Gern’s humble attire, his aura had already reached the Third-tier. Such terrifying strength was not something a peak Second-tier practitioner like himself could withstand. Thoughts of retreat had already begun to sprout in his mind.

Gern instantly saw through the man’s intentions; after all, he used to be in a similar line of work and had more experience fleeing than anyone. The moment Leon made a move to escape, Gern intercepted him.

“I say, buddy, why don’t we just call it a day? Are you sure you can outrun me?”

“Hmph, whether I can outrun you or not, I’ll only know after trying.”

Leon scoffed at the notion, refusing to believe his Netherworld Steps were inferior to a mere traitor’s. Yet, after several rounds of evasion, despair began to set in. This fellow’s proficiency had elevated Netherworld Steps to a terrifying level. Compared to Gern, he was nothing more than a greenhorn recruit.

Gern once again appeared silently before Leon, his eyes now harboring a faint glint of murderous intent.

“Now, let’s see where you’ll run.”

As Gern’s words faded, vast swathes of flame suddenly erupted around them, forming a blazing circle that trapped both men within. The core principle of Netherworld Steps was to utilize dark environments for concealment. Once such shadowy surroundings vanished, the effectiveness of Netherworld Steps would be severely diminished. Gern had already set up an inescapable net all around them; no matter how capable Leon was, he wouldn’t escape this place.

Upon seeing the flames, Leon didn’t succumb to fear or despair; instead, he burst into maniacal laughter.

“Traitor of the Divine Cult, do you truly believe these are my only tricks?”

“Since you refuse to be sensible, allow me to introduce you to the latest research and development of our Divine Cult!”

With that, Leon produced a small porcelain bottle from his storage space, but before he could drink its contents, a gust of wind swept past him. By the time he registered what had happened, the small porcelain bottle in his hand was gone.

“You—you—you!”

“Oh, a hypnotic potion. Good stuff.”

A smirk played on Gern’s lips. He had seen this item before; it could alter a person’s subconscious. Naturally, its effectiveness depended on one’s mental strength. If a person’s mental power was formidable, the potion would at most only last for a period. Once its effects wore off, they would naturally return to normal. However, if a person’s mental strength was weak, they could easily be affected for life. Used correctly, this item was a divine-tier artifact—just like now.

Gern promptly drank the potion, then, with a mischievous grin, he looked at Leon and slowly advanced.

“You… don’t come any closer!”

“That’s not up to you.”

****