Chapter 1403 - 650: The Desert Furnace Refines Byron, Deceit Divine Position Finally Acquired (Part 3)

Byron was surrounded on all sides, and the sandstorm vaguely formed the shape of a gigantic Iron Maiden.

As countless grains of sand spun around, he seemed to be placed into a high-powered shredder, where even diamonds would be ground to dust.

Moreover, the friction of the sand generated heat, concentrating all of it within the sandstorm, subjecting Byron to a relentless "death by a thousand cuts," as if adding a high-temperature furnace to the shredder.

The scorching hot wind roared and spread, evaporating every trace of moisture in the desert.

This is the Assassin’s Strange Art [Desert Saber]!

It can turn his body into sand and control the surrounding yellow sand, transforming them into weapons or giant sand golems, enhancing his might in the desert.

"Hahaha, this desert is mixed with specially made Law-Breaking Stone particles, although only physical attacks remain, no one has ever survived my Strange Art.

Let alone someone like you, a cripple drained by Amita!

Wasn’t it enjoyable to sleep with my woman? Now I’ll let you continue to enjoy it!"

Perhaps because his 700-year-old wish was about to be fulfilled by his own hands, the assassin’s face showed a crazed expression, speaking without restraint.

Beside him, Amita’s face turned sullen upon hearing this.

Being forced by her fiancé to climb into another man’s bed using a Beauty Trap was obviously not something worth bragging about.

After completing the mission, not only did she not receive comfort from her fiancé, but she also felt the desolation of being used and discarded as a tool.

For the assassin, it seemed that her heavy sacrifices in morality, doctrine, and flesh for him were not as important as his own face?

The emotionally sensitive "ugliest princess" found this difficult to accept, her emotions amplified tenfold by a mere grumble.

At this moment, from the center of the sandstorm came Byron’s unexpectedly weak voice:

"That’s not true.

Though I don’t know who hired you assassins to kill me.

But I know that Her Royal Highness Princess Amita is a living, breathing, emotional and beautiful girl, not some cold assassination tool.

Treating her as a tool makes you no different from the high-ups of the Holy Spirit Sect who don’t see her as human.

She, and all the discriminated, unfairly treated residents of this land, deserve to be people of infinite possibilities, each with their own splendid life.

Of course, I do really like the beautiful and kind Princess Amita, you gutter insect really aren’t worthy of her."

Byron knew that if he said: "Your fiancée, truly silky!" it would one hundred percent break the assassin’s composure on the spot, but there was no need to harm the innocent.

Moreover, ever since obtaining the [Sun Stone Calendar], it was like having the standard answers to a test, each word straight to the point.

He became Amita’s closest confidant, constantly pouring out bowls of free heart-warming chicken soup.

Hearing his words, the girl’s extraordinary beauty regained its brilliance.

All she received from someone she saw as family and friend, the assassin, was harm over and over again.

Yet from the man she shared a night of pleasure with, she received a gentleness she’d never experienced in her life, and her eyes gradually brimmed with tears.

"His Majesty Saint Byron, he not only appreciates my exterior but truly understands my inner self!

The future I want is just like this."

No wonder beautiful women fall for scoundrels.

Everything fears comparison, and just a few sentences made Amita’s gaze towards the Mountain Elder gradually change.

He, however, had yet to realize the seriousness of the matter, with a somber expression under the skull mask:

"Didn’t expect you to be a romantic?

But, do you know what I hate most in life? It’s smooth-talking, handsome people like you, let’s see how long you can keep up that bravado?"

He said as he tossed several bottles of instant-death poison into the Melting Furnace Shredder, staining the high-temperature sandstorm with a ghastly blue.

A deep cold laugh:

"Hmph, Assassin’s Creed: Nothing is true, everything is permitted!

How can one become a master if they don’t know how to use a gun?

If you can’t learn the truth that a wrench, crowbar, battle axe, firearm, and poison... all are sleeve swords, how can you become the God of Assassination?"

"Sss... sss..."

A hissing sound immediately came from within the furnace.

In reality, although Byron wasn’t feeling great, seeing his body’s resilience, high-temperature resistance, skin toughness, and toxin resistance... all increasing +1+1+1+1+1+1...

The cascading enhancement notifications like a waterfall felt even more delightful than when Amita was giving him a massage.

Even with the poisonous smoke all around, his eyes were becoming ever sharper.

"What so-called world-famous West Coast steam bath, I think none compares to this Melting Furnace Shredder, it’s much better than diving into the sea.

Especially his poison, such great strength!

If I had a sparring partner like this every day, perhaps it won’t be long before I can physically challenge a demigod.

The assassin really is a good person."

Byron never worried about his safety, speaking to the assassin purely to maximize benefits.

"Unless encountering a [Sword in the Stone] kind of conceptual weapon targeting anchors that can destroy all connections, completely annihilate all avatars, and incarnations.

To kill me, one must first restrain my unique ’transform’, break through my immensely strong earthly body, and then obliterate an entire Bloodline River.

Only after grinding down the blood bar bit by bit, then killing me nine consecutive times, can all my nine lives be taken."