Chapter 48 : Patrick's Death!!

"What?!" Patrick exclaimed, stunned and rooted to the spot.

"Don't you enjoy crying so much?" Everit said calmly. "When you're walking, when you're bearing the weight of the world, and today, when you come to me seeking death."

"Why aren't you crying now? The so called- Knight of Mercy."

Boom!

Thunder crashed in his mind.

Patrick's body swayed, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him, sending chills down his spine.

Crying.

He couldn't stop crying, overwhelmed by the pervasive evil and chaos in the world.

But why now?

"You're not even as resilient as Juvia," Everit shook his head. "It took over three times as long as Patrick to affect Juvia."

"What nonsense are you spouting? Do you expect me to spare you when you speak such inexplicable words at a time like this?!"

"Impossible!"

"Let me pass judgment!"

Patrick yelled, brandishing his spear, aiming it at Everit.

Everit didn't flinch.

[I can't kill him!

Who am I to end him?

A wretch like me!]

Patrick suddenly halted, his trembling hands unable to grip the spear, which clattered to the ground, sinking into the abyss below.

"What have you done?" Patrick felt a sudden surge of fear.

"After deception comes the moment of greatest trust in the deceiver," Everit explained. "The deceiver exploits this trust to carry out their deceitful schemes."

"The subject of this trust doesn't have to be the deceiver."

"It can also be yourself. That is—"

"Confidence."

Everit reached out and caught raindrops falling from the edge of the umbrella.

"Fog Valley. Empty Mountain."

"When people traverse a valley shrouded in fog, they fret because they can't see beyond."

"Though there's nothing in the fog, they still imagine indescribable things... monsters."

"People can sense their own feelings of fear and anxiety. Thus, these emotions can be conquered."

"When people wander through the serene, empty mountains, they experience joy. They do not feel despondent or fearful."

"They may even find themselves unable to resist shouting or breaking into song."

"Whether they scratch their nose or reach for an itch on their back, it matters not."

"It's all thanks to this breathtaking scenery. With its paved stone paths, there's no danger to be found with every step taken."

"Here, people put their faith in this place and trust their own senses."

"People let themselves go here—"

"Free their mind."

Everit extended his hand towards Patrick.

"You're speaking nonsense."

"Calm yourself."

Patrick was about to feign anger, but was "restrained" by Everit's two words.

He gazed at Everit serenely, reached for his long sword, unaffected by the slight resistance of pulling it out, as if he had been rendered numb all over—unable to move or feel any pain.

Everit withdrew the blade, leaving no trace of blood, as pristine as it was before.

Sheathing the sword.

"Da."

He gripped his cane with both hands, regarding Patrick with an indifferent expression.

"You scoundrel—"

"I intend to put you on trial!"

Patrick suddenly erupted in anger.

"Pathetic," Everit remarked calmly.

"Ah—so pitiful, I feel so wretched. Why am I so feeble? Why did I seek you out only to invite death upon myself? I don't want to die!"

"Damn it, what have you done to my body?!" Patrick erupted in anger once more.

"Your anger is misdirected," Everit reminded.

"Ah—I'm so enraged. I'm such a fool. Why did I seek out a formidable man like you? If a simpleton like me gets killed, it hardly matters!"

[What's wrong with me?]

"Magic is the manifestation of the heart's power, and emotions dominate the majority of it," Everit explained. "People cannot resist their emotions."

"When people feel immensely inferior and sorrowful, they may resort to self-flagellation." 

'Papapapa' Patrick wailed loudly, delivering hard slaps to his own face, leaving it swollen from the blows.

"In moments of extreme despair, thoughts of suicide may surface."

Patrick's right hand plunged fiercely into his left chest.

"What sort of magic is this?" Blood spurted from Patrick's chest, his face twisted in despair as he gazed at Everit. "I've never seen you use this terrifying magic before."

"The second stage of deception magic," Everit replied coolly. "Deep Mirage, Fog Valley, and Empty Mountain."

"It's nearly impossible to break free from the deception," Everit continued, his tone dripping with confidence. "Even if you manage to break free, you'll only inch closer to the truth."

"And the truth is—I control your emotions. You, on the other hand, become a puppet of your emotions."

"By the way, Patrick," Everit grinned wickedly, "Which God do you put your faith in?"

"What do you intend to do?" Patrick exclaimed in horror.

"I despise God, and those who believe in him," Everit chuckled, manipulating the ice and turning his back on Patrick as he walked away.

Behind him, Patrick's voice echoed in fury.

"Curse Anza!"

"You vile demon!"

"May you rot in hell!"

Each enraged word pierced the air like a lament.

"Remember what I told you earlier?" Everit's voice drifted back to Patrick's ears nonchalantly. "Look behind you, and then meet your end with regret and despair, Patrick—the weak one."

"Ah!"

"I regret so much!"

"Why did I become a pawn of the devil?"

"Why must I perpetrate injustice in the guise of peace?"

"Why do I long for death?"

"How can someone like me continue to exist in this world?"

"Hell Spikes!"

Countless spikes of seawater materialized.

"No, please,"

Patrick pleaded desperately as he watched Everit's figure recede, his final plea lost in the tumultuous sea.

Unfortunately, the next moment—

His eyes dimmed, the will to live extinguished.

With a vacant stare, he grasped his head with both hands and twisted it forcefully!

*Click*

His head swiveled backwards, descending with the pull of gravity, and he glimpsed his own back.

He offered a sad smile.

"Boom!"

Thousands of seawater spikes descended, shattering everything in an instant!

Fog Valley and Empty Mountain,

This is both a state and a means.

Firstly, magic is akin to mist, gracefully enveloping the foe, inducing the illusion of being affected by magic.

Fear and concern may grip individuals, yet those with resolute minds shall subdue such emotions.

Such individuals can traverse the misty valley and perceive the barren mountains concealed within.

Therein lies no peril.

It's akin to an enemy who believes they've deciphered Everit's method, thus restraining themselves from succumbing to Everit's emotional allure.

They ease up, perhaps even becoming somewhat complacent.

For they are on the verge of triumph.

In that moment, confidence brims within him - for he has silenced the deceiver and shrouded their visage in disgrace.

However, unbeknownst to him, traversing the mist-laden valley dampens his attire. At this juncture, Everit has already "gently" infiltrated his heart with magical influence, seizing control of his organs and various hormones.

And so -

It concludes.

When the foe believes it's over, indeed, it is over.

Humans are slaves to emotions, and Everit is the master of emotions.

This is the second level of deception magic which can create miracles!

****

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