— Bloodstained Path, Severed Soul —
Mountain mist coiled around the winding road like spectral serpents.
Behind the wheel, Erskine's grip tightened until his knuckles blanched. The engine roared, tires screeching in protest against the asphalt.
He needed to get away—the faster, the better.
In the trunk, nestled within heavy briefcases, was a fortune that felt like holding red-hot iron:
a gourd, a small bronze cauldron, a bundle of Mirage Incense, a five-hundred-year-old Violet-Gold Ginseng, and two Thunder Rune Talismans.
Each item was priceless, and each was a death sentence.
"Brakes! Someone ahead!" Seraphine's scream tore through the mist.
Erskine's head snapped up. There, in the center of the road, stood a woman with long silver hair. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. "In my way? Then it's her bad luck."
He slammed the accelerator to the floor.
In the next instant, the old woman merely raised a withered hand.
BOOM!
It was as if the car had hit an invisible mountain. The shriek of tearing metal filled the air as the vehicle came to a dead halt, instantaneously.
Seraphine and Clara, secured by their seatbelts, survived with shock. Erskine, saved by the airbag, trembled uncontrollably. This old woman... she wasn't human.
"Trying to run an old woman down?" Her voice rasped dryly, eyes burning with fanatic light. She advanced, each step a death knell.
Erskine forced a smile as he stumbled out of the car. "Senior, a misunderstanding! I—"
THWUMP!
A palm strike sent him flying, blood spraying from his mouth. Before he hit the ground, a skeletal hand seized him mid-air, his throat making a sickening crunching sound.
"Se—Senior! I'm from the Vale family!" he croaked, begging for mercy.
"The Vale family?" The crone paused, then sneered. "What rubbish family? Never heard of it."
She patted him down, her voice sharp. "The gourd. Where is it?"
Terrified out of his wits, Erskine tremblingly pointed to the trunk. She dropped him, found the ancient-looking gourd, and her fingers actually trembled. "Speak! What are its secrets?"
"It's... just a gourd! I bought it for fun!"
SLAP!
Another stinging blow landed.
"A hundred million for fun? You take me for a fool?!"
Her fingers, like iron claws, dug into his chest and twisted.
Erskine screamed in agony. "Stop! I... I just wanted to frame Eren! He—he's the one who knows the gourd's secrets!"
"Eren?" The old woman's gaze sharpened.
"You're lying!" Seraphine cried out. "Eren's just an orphan! Are you trying to get him killed?!"
The crone's cold laugh made it clear she believed Erskine.
"Senior, I'll give you all my treasures! Just spare my life!" Erskine pleaded desperately.
"Fool." The old woman licked her lips, her smile sinister. "Kill you, and it's all mine anyway."
Her palm shot out—
POP!
Erskine's head burst into a fine crimson mist, splattering the car like rain.
The silver-haired woman turned, her gaze falling upon the trembling Seraphine and Clara.
---
— A Fist to Suppress Evil —
"Old hag, you've got quite the taste for your age."
The calm voice drifted from the mist.
Eren stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression as placid as if he were watching ants on the roadside. Darius loomed behind him like a mountain.
"Eren? Run! She's looking for you!" The words burst from Seraphine's lips, and she immediately regretted them—had she just sold him out?
"Oh? So you're Eren?" The old woman's eyes lit up, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Boy, tell me the gourd's secrets. Now!"
Eren ignored her, his cool gaze sweeping over Seraphine, a hint of mockery at the corner of his mouth. "Seraphine, was that help... or a betrayal?"
Her heart clenched, tears welling in her eyes, but no words came out.
"I'm talking to you, boy! Are you deaf?!" the crone roared.
Eren finally looked at her, his tone indifferent. "I hear you like to kill whole families."
"Since you know, then obediently—"
Before she could finish, her killing intent erupted. A palm strike carrying a terrifying force surged toward Eren like a tidal wave.
Eren gave a faint smile. "Perfect. I wanted to test myself anyway."
BOOM!
His fist shot out like thunder!
The moment her palm force met it, the old woman's arm shattered, and her chest caved in with a sickening crunch!
She staggered back several steps, vomiting blood, her face a mask of utter shock and disbelief.
"Just an old hag, after all." Eren retracted his fist as swiftly as the wind, his words cold.
Enraged beyond reason, the crone summoned her "Gale Demon Palm," a hurricane of sharp wind blades roaring toward Eren.
Eren's feet didn't move. His second fist descended—
The wind scattered. Bones shattered.
The old woman screamed as she was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground, her body a bloody, broken mess. She looked up in terror, her voice trembling. "L-little brother... a misunderstanding! These treasures, the women... they're all yours—"
She tried to turn and flee.
A cold light flashed.
Her vision spun wildly. The last thing she saw was her own headless body collapsing onto the mountain path.
"O-Overlord... your divine might!" Darius's voice trembled with awe.
From Eren's appearance to the crone's demise, less than a minute had passed.
Seraphine and Clara stood frozen, utterly dumbstruck. Was this the same Eren they had known for three years? How could he be this powerful?
Eren walked to the car, glancing coldly at Erskine's corpse. "You died too quickly. Consider it a mercy."
He picked up the case of treasures, turned, and left without a backward glance.
Seraphine stood rooted to the spot, her heart feeling like shattered glass.
"Is he... still Eren?" Clara whispered, barely audible.
Seraphine bit her lip, refusing to answer. She dared not speak the truth aloud.
"Let's go... take Erskine's body back."
The night wind was cold, the figures of the two women lonely and desolate as they departed.
---