Chapter 332: The Way to Succeed

Chapter 332: Chapter 332: The Way to Succeed

He sneered. "If I’m not making it out alive, none of you are getting the reward either!"

Alaric Hawthorn’s words were forceful, laced with the grim finality of someone ready to take everyone down with him.

The tip of his longspear glinted coldly in the lantern’s dim yellow light, aimed squarely at Fayestar.

The air in the room instantly froze, thick with tension.

Fayestar’s expression darkened completely. The muscles in the arm holding the Sunflower tensed, and her gaze, sharp as a knife, met Alaric Hawthorn’s without yielding an inch.

At this tense, hair-trigger moment, Lyra Lowell suddenly slapped his thigh as if he’d just had a revelation. "Right!" he exclaimed.

He mimicked Alaric Hawthorn, glaring fiercely at Fayestar and Seraphina Sinclair. But perhaps because his head was rather empty to begin with, he couldn’t muster any real threats. After stammering for a moment, he squeezed out four words: "I... I’m the same!"

Seraphina Sinclair: "..."

Fayestar: "..."

Alaric Hawthorn: "..."

Even the tip of the longspear seemed to waver at his nonsensical declaration.

A vein pulsed on Alaric Hawthorn’s temple. He desperately wanted to run this useless teammate through and pin him to the wall.

Lyra Lowell’s interruption shattered the grim, decisive standoff, inexplicably injecting a touch of absurd comedy into the scene.

A muscle in Fayestar’s tense jaw twitched. The sharpness in her eyes was diluted by sheer speechlessness.

She looked away, as if another glance at Lyra Lowell might actually lower her IQ.

Seraphina Sinclair, on the other hand, simply ignored Lyra Lowell. Her gaze swept over the Sunflower in Alaric Hawthorn’s arms before returning to his face. She seemed to sigh, then finally spoke.

"Alaric Hawthorn, what makes you think you have what it takes to bring me down with you?"

She said "me," not "us."

She had even excluded Fayestar. The implication was clear: against Seraphina alone, Alaric Hawthorn didn’t even have the ability to ensure mutual destruction.

Even Fayestar thought Seraphina Sinclair was being a little too arrogant.

To Alaric Hawthorn, her words were a blatant insult.

His face instantly flushed crimson in the dim yellow light. Veins bulged on his neck, his knuckles turned white around the spear, and his jaw clenched. A low growl rumbled from deep in his throat. "Serafelle Sinclair! Don’t you push me too far!"

Before his voice had even faded, he flicked his wrist. The longspear shot out like a venomous viper, whistling through the air as it aimed straight for Seraphina Sinclair’s throat!

The thrust was fast, vicious, and precise, without a hint of hesitation. He was clearly enraged by Seraphina’s contemptuous words, intending to draw blood and reassert his dominance.

"Watch out!" Fayestar’s pupils constricted. She instinctively moved to help, but the distance and angle made it impossible to intervene in time.

Lyra Lowell let out a terrified shriek, covering his head and cowering against the wall.

But in the face of this sharp thrust, Seraphina Sinclair didn’t even bat an eyelid.

In the instant before the spear tip could touch her skin, a long saber appeared from nowhere, flashing with cold light to block the longspear.

Alaric Hawthorn’s pupils dilated. His sure-kill strike had been stopped by Seraphina Sinclair, just like that.

And... she had only used one hand.

Alaric Hawthorn instantly realized that the attribute points of the person before him were far, far greater than his own.

He didn’t stand a ghost of a chance fighting Seraphina Sinclair.

’I’m dead either way...’ At this thought, a look of grim resolve flashed across Alaric Hawthorn’s face.

’If I die, they’re not getting out of this unscathed!’

The moment the thought occurred to him, Alaric Hawthorn reversed his longspear. He swung the butt of the spear not at Seraphina Sinclair, but viciously down at the Sunflower he was protecting in his arms.

He, Alaric Hawthorn, always did what he said he would.

He was ruthless to others, but even more ruthless to himself.

This strike held nothing back; it was fueled by his desire for mutual destruction!

"You dare!" Fayestar roared, her body blurring into motion, but she was half a beat too slow.

A cold glint flashed in the eyes of the hitherto silent Seraphina Sinclair. She was already prepared. Her free hand had already torn a Corpse Suppression Rune.

This thing was no longer very effective against the monsters they’d encountered at this stage, but against humans...

...its effects were outstanding!

Streaks of Dark Gold light shot out like slithering snakes, swirling around the two halves of the torn rune paper as they flew toward Alaric Hawthorn, heading straight for the gap between his spear-wielding arm and the Sunflower in his embrace!

Alaric Hawthorn sensed something was wrong. The ferocity in his eyes intensified as he ignored the danger, willing to be injured if it meant destroying the life in his arms first!

The butt of the spear descended even faster!

But unfortunately, no matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t outpace the Corpse Suppression Rune. The strands of Dark Gold light, like living vines, instantly wrapped around Alaric Hawthorn’s wrist, forearm, and elbow—and even the stalk and head of the Sunflower in his arms!

Wherever the golden light touched, his joints went numb. Although the butt of the spear was still falling, it felt as if it had plunged into a pile of invisible cotton, its force dissipating layer by layer.

"What?!" Alaric Hawthorn was both shocked and enraged.

Seizing the opportunity, Fayestar rushed forward. She grabbed Alaric Hawthorn’s limp, dangling wrist with one hand, snatched the longspear away with the other, and in a fluid motion, slammed him to the ground, driving her knee into his back.

"You..." Alaric Hawthorn’s lips moved, but only a hoarse gasp escaped. The numbness was still spreading, making even his curses sound fragmented and weak.

Only then did Seraphina Sinclair leisurely put away her saber. She walked over to Alaric Hawthorn and looked down at him. "I told you. You don’t have what it takes to bring me down with you."

Her voice was calm and steady, yet more piercing than any taunt. "Now, your Sunflower is in my hands. Do you want to die, or do you want to live?"

Alaric Hawthorn sneered, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "I’d rather—"

Before he could finish, Lyra Lowell shoved him aside. Looking at Seraphina Sinclair with a mixture of fear, hope, and sycophancy, he pleaded, "Live! I want to live! Boss Sinclair! Does asking that mean you have a way for us to survive?!"

He knew he had acted like an idiot just now, but he also knew this was his only lifeline.

Seraphina Sinclair’s gaze finally moved from Alaric Hawthorn to Lyra Lowell’s face.

Her expression was still devoid of warmth, neither mocking his fickleness nor acknowledging his flattery.

"A way?" she repeated, her tone flat. "Perhaps."

Fayestar finally understood the purpose of this whole spectacle. Her brow furrowed as she looked at Seraphina Sinclair. "What are you planning?"

"The notebook records the attempts of those who failed. They failed because the only path they knew was sacrifice." Seraphina Sinclair’s voice was level, but her body was tense, wary that Fayestar might suddenly attack.

She could sense that this survivor, who was playing weak to hide her true strength, was definitely one of the strongest she had ever met.

Fayestar was surely just like her, using a fake name and hiding a lot of things.

So, when facing her, Seraphina Sinclair had to be vigilant.

She paused, then continued, "Since that’s a path to failure, we obviously can’t walk it again. So we need to get out of here and find a way to succeed."