NOVEL NEXT Chapter 643 Who is the Canting One - I
On the wasteland fifteen kilometers outside Dispute Fortress, there was a small town.
Due to the mining operation opened by Dispute Fortress nearby, the town had developed decently. However, Seraphina didn't care much about the quality of life.
At five in the morning, the girl opened her eyes right on time. Not having spent the night battling Ansel, the wolf girl always woke up early. She quickly washed up and changed clothes, then opened the window, stepping onto the ledge and leaping lightly, soaring into the sky like an eagle.
The tall and slender Seraphina stretched her body with a look of exhilaration. With a few jumps, she left the still-sleeping town behind.
The reason Marlina sent her here was simple. In the vast wilderness, Seraphina could unleash her power without restraint. Being far from Dispute Fortress also meant she wouldn't be distracted by the issues in the lower district.
Trusting Marlina without question, Seraphina had no objections to this arrangement and cheerfully went to the town for training.
Marlina had arranged everything perfectly. The entire town had been taken care of by her, and the townspeople knew how to interact with this extraordinary being.
Logically, Seraphina was there to train and should spend all day outside, only returning to the town for meals and sleep. But Marlina knew her sister too well. The moment Seraphina arrived near the town, she would undoubtedly first check if there were any wrongdoers causing trouble. To prevent any mishaps, Marlina had stabilized the order here in advance.
However, Marlina was not Ansel. Regardless of her foresight, only Ansel could truly transcend the chessboard of life.
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"Ha!"
Explosions echoed across the vast plains as the crimson-black wolf shadow, like a demon god, swung its claws with the ferocity of a storm. Simultaneously, Seraphina punched and kicked, creating gusts that tore trenches into the solid ground and visible waves in the air.
"Hmm... something's not right."
As her attacks slowed, Seraphina's brow furrowed slightly. "It doesn't feel right to control Blacky this way. Should I focus on controlling it instead?"
The girl stopped her punching, crossed her arms, and began to ponder. The crimson-black wolf shadow behind her, seemingly "growing" from her shoulders, lowered its claws and bowed its head, as if taking a nap.
"How should I go further..." Seraphina mumbled absently.
She had neither a clear direction nor a concept of self-analysis. To put it simply, the prodigy Seraphina Marlowe, who simultaneously wielded the powers of both the head of strength and the head of wind, had never considered "how" to grow stronger. For her, the growth of power was an instinct and a feeling... As long as she felt it, all problems could be solved.
Unfortunately, since making a pact with Ansel, the feeling Seraphina yearned for had never arrived. No matter how much she trained, no matter how fiercely she swung her fists and feet, a breakthrough remained elusive.
It seemed she had reached a bottleneck from every angle.
"Ugh..."
Seraphina, unable to think of a solution, vigorously ran her hands through her hair before plopping down on the ground, muttering in frustration: "If I face Ansel with just this level of skill, he'll definitely be disappointed."
Even though she could effortlessly defeat fourth-stage opponents with her third-stage power, Seraphina remained dissatisfied with her abilities.
"If I project the Hydral's true form into my body, I can't sustain it for long... and if I convert it into Blacky, I don't know how to integrate it. Maybe if it was larger, but I can't maintain that state for long...ughh!"
The girl, who had never considered how to strengthen herself, sat cross-legged on the ground, muttering as she poked at the stones on the ground. Behind her, the wolf shadow twisted, sometimes morphing into a writhing Hydra, other times solidifying into a massive, menacing wolf beast.
Seraphina tried to think, failed to find answers, and chose to give up.
"I guess I can't get stronger this way..." She stood up, patting the dust off her bottom and sighed, unwilling to accept it. "Forget it, I'll just hone my state of mind for the next couple of days. Maybe when I fight Ansel, I'll get the feeling."
Despite her dissatisfaction with her current state, Seraphina quickly shook off her frustration and threw herself back into her training.
However, this time, just moments after she started, she suddenly stopped, turning her head toward the direction of the town.
"...Why is there a battle aura? Hmm, luckily, it's not in the town."
Seraphina's brow furrowed slightly before relaxing, a wild, excited smile spreading across her face.
"Finally, a chance to let loose. Just hitting the air is boring. I don't know who you are or why you suddenly decided to fight here, but..."
"Such a perfect punching bag, I'll gladly accept!"
*
Boneblade, who had escaped from the dungeon of Dispute Fortress, fled desperately.
After being captured and imprisoned by Inothea, he endured a period of unimaginable despair. Yet, in the end, Boneblade persevered.
Despite the various indirect tortures and direct brainwashing and soul searches, Boneblade did not break. He never revealed his true identity or the plans of the Revolutionary Army, holding on until the very end.
— Amidst endless pain and sleepless nights, he seized the fleeting moment of the guards' negligence and used his spiritual essence to break out of the dungeon.
Boneblade did not initially plan to reunite with his comrades upon his escape. He was wary that this might be a trap set by Milo, and he was somewhat prepared to die. His breakout was purely to better conceal his comrades and to try to gather some useful intelligence from the lord's castle, which he planned to transmit to the Revolutionary Army using a special secret method.
Curiously, for reasons unknown, there were not many extraordinary beings within the lord's castle. Boneblade stormed into Milo's study with lightning speed, found some useful information, and then attempted to break out of the city. It was during this process that he was finally pursued.
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