Chapter 372 - 357: A Peculiar Trophy

Chapter 372: Chapter 357: A Peculiar Trophy

A dazed, blank look first flashed through Celeste’s slowly opening eyes, as if she were just waking from a deep dream.

Then, her pupils abruptly contracted.

She saw her own headless body turning to ash and dissipating.

She saw Roland’s hand in the distance, covered in silver scales.

And she felt, at her neck...

A cold, empty void.

"What... what have you done?"

Her voice was no longer that bewitching whisper, but a sharp, incredulous shriek of terror.

This sound wasn’t produced by her throat, but vibrated the very air around her, like a scream from the depths of her soul.

She could feel it clearly: a power of Law, something beyond comprehension, was binding her residual consciousness and soul to this head like the sturdiest of chains.

What chilled her to the bone was that the eternal, unbroken connection between her and the bottomless Abyss... had been completely severed.

’This is impossible!’

Normally, when a Demon like her was slain on the Prime Material Plane, her soul should have immediately returned to the Abyss to be reshaped in its chaotic essence.

Although she would lose most of her power and need a long time to recover, it at least meant survival—a chance to make a comeback.

But now, her soul was as if nailed into this soon-to-decay skull. The familiar call of the Abyss had become unreachable, as if separated by an impenetrable crystal wall.

A sliver of fear, born from primal instinct and mixed with monstrous resentment, burned fiercely in her eyes.

Her gaze locked onto Roland, as if wanting to drag his soul with her into this eternal cage.

"What... exactly... have you done to me?"

Her voice was twisted by extreme rage and fear.

"Why... can’t I go back?"

Witnessing this, a flash of astonishment passed through Roland’s draconic eyes.

’Is this... the Plundering Trait?’

He muttered to himself, his brow slightly furrowed.

This Trait, granted by the hidden Profession of Pirate, had brought him many spoils of war before, but trapping an enemy’s consciousness in their own head was truly a first.

’Could it be that what this succubus named Celeste cherished most was her own head?’

The thought struck him as absurd, yet it also seemed to be the most logical explanation at the moment.

After all, for a succubus who wielded Charm and beauty as weapons, this perfect face might indeed be her most valued asset.

However, the clamor of the battlefield quickly pulled him back to reality.

The distant sounds of fighting reminded him that the crisis was not yet over.

He keenly perceived that although the head in his hand maintained a bizarre "liveliness," the dense Abyssal aura it once possessed was now completely gone, as if thoroughly purified and sealed off by some power.

There was no time to investigate further.

Roland deftly tore a leather strap from a fallen soldier beside him and unceremoniously used it to gag Celeste’s lips, which were still trying to form a silent protest.

Then, as if handling a special piece of loot, he stuffed the head, still expressing its rage and fear through its eyes, into the satchel at his waist.

’I’m not afraid of a living succubus, so why would I fear a mere sealed head?’

He could always study it later.

The moment he fastened the satchel’s buckle and straightened up, familiar footsteps, tinged with a hint of playfulness, sounded from behind him.

"Well, well..."

The Minstrel Galvis’s signature, slightly exaggerated voice of admiration followed.

"It seems I missed a rather... unconventional farewell ceremony?"

As he spoke, Galvis peered with great interest through a gap in the satchel at Celeste’s head, then turned his curious gaze to Roland’s dragonified form.

Unexpectedly, he didn’t ask about this strange transformation. Instead, amidst the deafening sounds of battle, he unhurriedly took out his parchment and charcoal pencil.

"Don’t move, don’t move! Hold that pose!"

The Minstrel gestured excitedly.

"The scales, the vertical pupils, and this aura... This is absolutely an epic scene!"

Just then, Avril’s nimble figure flashed by. She tapped Roland’s arm with great interest, her finger producing a crisp sound against his Dragon Scales.

"Whoa..."

She blinked playfully.

"Now you’re really ’armed to the teeth,’ Roland."

Looking at his two companions, who were still doing as they pleased on the battlefield, Roland sighed helplessly.

"What’s the situation now?"

"Princess Gloria and the Duke have managed to reform the lines..."

The silver-haired girl was as composed as ever, but an imperceptible flicker of astonishment crossed her eyes as they swept over Roland’s still-active Dragonification features.

"The soldiers are fighting the remaining Demons. The situation... is extremely tense."

Noticing Teresa’s gaze lingering on him, Roland let out a soft sigh.

"These changes... I’ll explain them to you later..."

"No need."

Teresa gently tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear, her tone firm.

"I was just a little... surprised. That’s all, Mr. Roland."

This unspoken trust made the corners of Roland’s mouth lift into a slight, unconscious smile.

"So..."

The Elf Maiden spoke up at the right moment, breaking the brief silence.

"What’s your plan now, Roland?"

Hearing Avril’s question, Roland’s gaze swept over the chaotic battlefield. He had already made a decision.

’Withdraw.’

He was just a stranger here, accidentally swept up in the conflicts of the Golden Valley Kingdom.

The sole purpose of his journey was to find and kill the Demon possessing Anno and break the Curse on himself.

Now that the succubus Celeste had been vanquished, he truly had no reason to remain on a battlefield he had no connection to.

If he had any remaining attachments, it was only his two friends trapped in the city.

Sean and Dalko.

At this thought, his gaze involuntarily shifted toward King Morne’s battlefield in the distance.

Morne was truly a powerhouse of his generation. Even while simultaneously facing the assault of an Abyssal Demon and a Nine Prisons Demon Fiend, he wielded his ordinary longsword with ease.

His silver Fighting Spirit transformed into an iridescent light that tore through the sky, and each slash forced the massive toad-like Demon to retreat again and again.

Meanwhile, the Demon named Malcolm could only rely on his agile movements to stay in the fight, clearly on the back foot.

Seeing this, Roland calmly assessed the situation.

With his current strength—having a preliminary grasp of Dragonification and the ability to use Supreme Slash at will—ordinary Demons were no threat. Clearing them out was just a matter of time.

The only ones to be wary of were the two High-Tier Otherworldly beings currently tied up with Morne, and they clearly had no attention to spare.

After confirming there was no real danger on his path, Roland turned his gaze toward Golden Ears City, which seemed unusually quiet now that the main demon forces were pinned down outside its walls.

"We’re going into the city,"

he ordered decisively.

"I have two friends who might be in the city right now. I need..."

Recalling his past experiences with Sean and Dalko, Roland took a deep breath, his hesitant tone suddenly turning firm.

"...to go rescue them."

The proposal met with no opposition.

Teresa nodded silently, Avril tightened her grip on her bow, and Galvis quickly put away his paper and pencil.

However, just as they were about to set off, Roland’s brow suddenly furrowed.

A familiar, unsettling burning sensation was still faintly searing his left chest.

A cold sliver of doubt seized him.

He subconsciously summoned the Professional Panel that only he could see, and his heart sank...

The Trait named [Gaze from the Abyss] was still clearly branded there, emitting an ominous shimmer.

The Curse...

...wasn’t lifted.