Novel Full Chapter 302 299: Enslaving Clea
Chapter 302 299: Enslaving Clea
Val’s relentless assault on Clea continued unabated. Blow after blow, each one more ferocious than the last, rained down until Clea, against all odds for a bloodline user, sank into unconsciousness. For Val to have battered a level 3 bloodline user who was also a mid-rank wizard into such a state was no small feat. After all, such breeds of humans were incomparably more tenacious than any other type of humans, and it was easier to kill than knock them out.
Anyway, now Clea was in a state where he couldn’t resist anything being done to him.
Seeing his chance, Val seized the opportunity and targeted Clea with the Void Force skill.
Given Clea’s vulnerable state and the disparity in their strengths, the Void Force skill faced no resistance. The skill took root in his soul, and Clea was rendered completely subservient to Val’s will.
Val had specific reasons for making Clea his slave. He envisioned using Clea as a mole within the Thunderspear tribe. Through Clea, Val would be privy to Leon’s machinations and the tribe’s internal struggles. Such inside knowledge would afford him a tremendous advantage!
However, it came with its own risk.
If it was exposed that he had enslaved a member of the tribe, he would be in deep shit.
Val knew the risks. So he imposed stringent conditions that Clea must follow unless he wanted to die or live in pain his entire life.
First, Clea couldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Whether it be indirectly or directly, if Clea tries to tell on Val, he will die before he can roll out the words or jot them down for others to ‘Coincidentally’ read.
Next, he couldn’t harm or show ill intent towards Val or his allies or it would result in Clea’s instantaneous death. Merely entertaining the idea will have him experiencing hell!
Lastly, Clea was to relay crucial information regarding the Thunderspear tribe, especially concerning Leon to Val. Non-compliance would make him feel such excruciating pain that he would beg to be killed.
Val put a few more rules in place to make sure he wouldn’t lose his new slave.
‘Good enough,’ he thought before stepping away from the slave.
When Clea regained consciousness, he found out that he was feeling a strange sense of obedience and it was for his worst enemy. It disgusted him.
Looking at Val, he inquired with a mix of anger and confusion, “What did you do to me?”
Val smirked, “I used the Void Force skill on you. It’s an ability that binds one’s will to mine. Now, you’re my puppet. You’ll serve me, betray your tribe, and keep me informed of their every move. Of course, you can choose not to do that, but the price of such disobedience, trust me, you don’t want to afford it.”
Clea’s eyes blazed with defiance. “I’d rather die than be your pawn and betray my tribe!”
He followed through with his words and tried to bite his tongue to end his life and escape Val’s control. But an invisible force stopped him.
‘No, it’s more like my body won’t listen to me,’ Clea realized with a growing dread.
“I anticipated that,” Val remarked dryly, “I knew you’d attempt suicide to escape my control, so I’ve made sure you can’t do it. In fact, if you even contemplate it, an agony far worse than death will consume you. It should be starting… now.”
As if on cue, Clea’s expression shifted from one of defiance to absolute terror.
Waves of excruciating pain surged through him, making him feel as though every fiber of his being was set aflame and a thousand needles had pierced every neuron in his brain.
The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, he wished for dead.
But he couldn’t die nor could he kill himself.
He could only experience the torture Val had unleashed upon him.
As a result, he began to break down both mentally and physically.
“Make it stop!” Clea shrieked, writhing in unbearable agony, his eyes pleading. “Please, make it end!”
However, despite hearing his pitiful cries, Val stood unmoved. No trace of emotion marred his features, be it pleasure or pity. He watched, merely watched, cold and indifferent, as Clea trembled like a dying cockroach under the weight of the torture his skill had unleashed.
“I hope this lesson made it clear you’re in no position to refuse me.” Val remarked after the torture ended, the cold undertones of his voice underlining the gravity of his warning.
And honestly, it did.
The sheer intensity of the pain Val had inflicted on Clea crushed the remnants of his pride.
Before the torture, he would’ve died rather than bow to Val’s will, but now, after the torture, he was ready to do whatever Val commanded, even if it meant degrading himself to the lowest depths.
His voice shaky, Clea asked submissively, “What are your orders for me, master?”
Val, in a tone dripping with authority, commanded, “Take refuge until the dimensional walls dissipate. Once they do, return to your master and inform him that as you were about to assassinate Oliver, a horde of devils attacked. While they slaughtered Ron and the dark wizards, Oliver managed to escape amidst the chaos.”
Clea nodded.
“I understand,” he said before he hurriedly left the scene.
Watching Clea’s retreating figure, Val murmured to himself, “I hope he doesn’t do anything foolish.”
After Clea’s departure, Val returned to Oliver’s side and recalled his undead minions.
Then, using his soul power, he effortlessly carried Oliver and began to traverse the dense forest.
As they moved, Oliver began to stir from his sleep.
After a while, he groggily awakened, his eyes fluttering open.
“What happened?” he inquired.
“Devils attacked after you lost consciousness,” Val replied tersely. “In the ensuing chaos, I grabbed you and fled deeper into the forest.”
A sigh of relief escaped Oliver’s lips.
“I’m glad you saved me. Thank you,” he whispered, gratitude evident in his voice.
Their exchange was cut short by the distant sounds of a skirmish. The two exchanged a knowing glance and moved towards the source of the commotion.
A certain distance away, Rowan and Alfred were locked in a fierce battle against a sinister white-haired witch.
The witch’s hair resembled gnarled weeds, and her eyes were as dark as the abyss.
Rowan charged at her with his swords, but she effortlessly parried his blows using her grotesquely long nails. Then she retaliated. Her retaliation was swift and deadly as her thick and long white hair ensnared Rowan, picked him up, and tossed him toward a massive boulder with incredible speed.
Rowan, with no control over his body, shot towards it like a rocket launched from its launcher.
Death seemed imminent for Rowan, but just as he was about to crash headfirst into the rock, a voice rang out.
“I got you!” Alfred shouted.
Activating his bloodline ability, Alfred commanded vines to emerge from the ground. They surged upwards, grabbing Rowan and placing him gently on the ground.
The very next moment, Alfred’s heart raced as the witch wailed like a banshee and fell to all fours.
Crack! Crack!
A nightmarish sight unfolded. The witch’s body contorted with an almost sickening flexibility, her limbs and neck bending in ways that would be impossible for any ordinary being. The haunting black of her eyes locked onto Alfred, and she changed towards him, not with the elegance of a human but with the wild, unpredictable ferocity of a beast.
‘This bitch is mad. Gotta keep her away, lest she bites me and gives me rabies.’
Alfred thought as he summoned a flurry of vines from the ground and manipulated them to attack the crazy witch.
The thick and green vines surged forward, twisting and turning, eager to ensnare their target, but the witch, despite her seemingly ungainly form, was too fast for an attack of such caliber to reach her.
With swift, fluid movements, she dodged the onslaught launched by Alfred, her body bending and twisting to avoid being caught by the vines.
Alfred barely had a moment to register his failure to stop her when she leaped towards him like a feral dog, and she did it with such strength and focus that the distance between them closed in a heartbeat and her elongated nails gleaming with malevolent intent cut through the air as they went for his neck.
Desperation and instinct took over, and Alfred threw himself to the ground. As Alfred’s back hit the ground, the witch’s nails slashed the air just where his head had been a moment ago.
However, even in her frenzied state, she responded to his dodge with unnerving agility.
Her body twisted mid-air, bending like a contortionist, changing the trajectory of her attack to strike him from an unexpected angle!
The attack was coming from above and Alfred was lying flat on the ground.
Desperation fueled Alfred’s reflexes. Watching the witch’s nail inch closer and closer to his eyes, he crossed his arms defensively in front of his face. From the ground beneath, as if responding to his will, countless vines erupted, rapidly weaving together to form a thick cocoon around him. They entwined, forming layers of hardened plant matter.
This barrier was the result of his best effort to stop the witch’s nails from digging into his flesh and reaping his soul, but would it be able to stop her?!
Alfred hoped that it does. He really didn’t want to die so young!