NOVEL NEXT Chapter 248: The Death of Aziz
After Aziz shouted his name, there was no response from inside the carriage.
A terrifying silence enveloped him like a cold night sky, immersing him in icy water.
Aziz suddenly shivered in his heart.
An inexplicable fear and unease struck him—like swallowing a buzzing echo or having an ice blade gently scrape his heart and liver.
The gold medallion on his head buzzed, urging him to leave quickly; the rose rosary around his neck grew warm and sticky, as if touching the skin of a sweaty person; the buckle on his waist belt unfastened itself, and the feathers on his shoes trembled slightly—as if, with a simple click of his heels, he could transport himself away from here.
However, Aziz hardened his heart, ignoring all these ominous signs.
—There is no one in this world who can find peace and surpass their destiny.
The more dangerous a place, the more opportunities it holds.
Up to this point, Aziz's life had been constant proof of this truth.
He certainly did not desire to end it here; he wanted to move further forward.
So, since that was the case...
"...Aziz."
A hoarse, emotionally complex voice called out.
Aziz raised his head.
He saw the carriage door open, revealing an old ritualist in a white robe standing at the entrance, bowing his head to gaze down at him. Yet, from the crack in the door, the small carriage appeared to hold a palace within.
This was indeed a miracle—
A savior's miracle!
Despite the waves of emotions overwhelming his heart, Aziz did not particularly scrutinize the Pure Sect Ritualist's appearance and attire.
Such soft-hearted "white robes" never succeeded in anything. Not even paying attention, Aziz could sense a complex and somber hatred.
Most likely, at some point, he had killed this man's teacher or sacrificed his fellow rituals. He mused.
Aziz even mocked the other's cowardice in his heart—more than dozens of people hold grudges against him, but just begrudging him won't get them to abandon that symbol of a Pure Sect Ritualist's white robe for more strength... so he'll remain at this level for life.
As a Transcender, without decision and abandonment,
How could one then walk the Path of Transcendence?
If relying only on the so-called "way to conquer the strong with the weak," doesn't that mean admitting that one has always been weak?
Just lucky to have found the Savior sooner than he did—
If roles were reversed, I'd have already used the Savior's power to thrust a knife in!
But too bad...
Aziz already possessed the ability to reflect curses and ritual magic. Should the other be foolish enough to attack, it would just rebound the Curse Killing without him lifting a finger—
"Aziz."
Seeing Aziz's gaze pass over him with no reaction, the old Ibn's eyes widened suddenly, his hunched back straightening up, his voice no longer complex and hesitant: "Do you remember who I am?"
Aziz looked over somewhat impatiently, somewhat puzzled, observing the older Ibn closely.
A bit familiar, probably seen somewhere before.
But couldn't recall offhand.
Aziz said with a forced smile: "Probably one of my enemies. Not surprising... Lone wolves are always at odds with the world, and many see me as their foe. This kind of unwarranted animosity isn't new to me."
"...Aziz."
Old Ibn called his name for the third time.
His voice sank deep within, like the low growl of a wolf: "I am Ibn."
"...Which Ibn?"
Aziz was slightly confused.
Ibn means 'son of', so Aziz's words also carried the implication of "Whose son are you," making it somewhat of a taunt.
"Abu Abbas Ibn Helquinn Ben Abdul."
Ibn slowly stated his full name: "Your uncle. Your uncle who was expelled decades ago."
This was the first time Aiwass heard Ibn speak his own name.
As expected...
Generally, Ibn indicates 'son of', usually to show paternal affiliation. But here's an exception—the significance of "Ibn Helquinn," is "son of Helquinn."
At the conclusion of the Second Water War, the Benevolent Lords sought to settle scores with rebellious slaves, instigating a massacre. It was Helquinn who stopped them then. With unparalleled violence, he slew many, including several Benevolent Lords…but from that point, Parthia solidified completely, ceasing radical changes.
"Son of Helquinn" symbolizes "strength in resisting fate." If picking apart the words, one can discern hidden meanings of "sympathy for slaves," and "acts of killing Benevolent Lords." For these reasons, when appearing in a name, "Helquinn" is typically bypassed to avoid bringing disaster.
About three or four seconds later, realization dawned on Aziz's face.
He finally remembered the man—mainly there were too many people he had killed or offended in his lifetime and lost track of who exactly he angered.
He couldn't quite recall why his uncle hated him, as it was decades ago—and he never cared much about the incident.