He suddenly appeared in front of Shawn, a faint smile on his face, and said gently, "Hello."
"I am Aemon the Fire Thief, you can call me the President."
Shawn’s figure froze in place.
At this moment, he wasn’t wearing the Confusion, so he could see the true face of the other. Before Shawn was a middle-aged man with an elegant face that looked somewhat familiar. Behind this middle-aged man projected a grand illusion: wearing a luxurious black and red robe, a pair of curved demon horns extending from his forehead, a pair of wings formed of blood-red flames behind him. The enormous shadow held a dazzling Ruby Scepter, all ten fingers adorned with mysterious black rings. His pitch-black eyes were like an Abyss that swallowed everything, staring at the minute Shawn before him.
In an instant, Shawn remembered who this middle-aged man in front of him was.
His neighbor, that elegant middle-aged man living across from him.
Shawn had hardly ever spoken to him formally; he only recalled a friendly middle-aged man living across the way.
It was him!
When Shawn had just arrived in Dorne City, that middle-aged man was already living across from him.
Beneath the shadow of the clock tower.
Aemon the Fire Thief looked up at the sky, gazing at the lifeless head of the clown, calmly said, "You’ve already done well."
A powerful pressure enveloped the battlefield, even more terrifying than the legendary Dragon Mighty, causing everyone to tremble involuntarily.
Then, he reached out his hand, seemingly ignoring the laws of Space in an instant, directly piercing through Shawn’s chest, extracting a heart that was still faintly pulsating.
Shawn’s consciousness gradually dissipated.
"Why didn’t Death Retrospect trigger?"
This was his last thought before losing consciousness, and then boundless darkness engulfed him.
"No!" Benjamin’s eyes widened in anguish. He wanted to act, but the power disparity was too great; he couldn’t even lift a finger.
Benjamin could only stand there trembling helplessly, his eyes fixated on Aemon, but with just a casual glance from Aemon, Benjamin’s figure instantly knelt to the ground. He had no strength to resist, his body and will no longer his own.
"Benjamin Tilian." Aemon smiled, crushing Shawn’s heart in front of him.
This dreadful Fire Thief leaned over, softly said, "See, once again you failed to protect your companion."
"Without power, you are nothing!"
Aemon crushed Shawn’s shattered body like squeezing foam before Benjamin, the ground littered with splattered blood and flesh. Then he stood atop the clock tower, like a demon king overlooking the others present, clapping: "Excellent."
"What a splendid performance! Night Watchers, once again you’ve protected the real world."
That frenzied Fire Thief smiled and turned to leave, looking in the direction of the Divine Hall District before his figure disappeared.
"Lady, this round I won."
.........
In the gray mist.
Shawn opened his eyes once more. He felt excruciating pain in his body, as if someone had ripped his heart out alive.
No!
It was all real.
His heart was indeed extracted, he still remembered what happened before.
Shawn sat up instantly, looking at his chest, he saw a horrifying scar, almost healed, but he couldn’t feel his heartbeat. When he placed his hand over where his heart should be, it was empty.
"You’re awake." A gentle voice came through.
Shawn looked up at a young man with an elegant and handsome face. Although his appearance had changed somewhat, Shawn recognized him at once.
Aemon the Fire Thief!
The Confusion lay beside him, the luxurious bed he had been lying on was covered in dried blood.
Why am I not dead?
Shawn’s expression was incredulous; someone had dug out his heart, yet he did not die.
In the distance, Aemon walked to a gray stone balcony, poured himself a wine as red as blood, and calmly said, "Of course you didn’t die. Because from the beginning, you were never truly alive."
Aemon lightly raised his finger, pointing vaguely at Shawn’s chest.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Shawn heard his heartbeat, but not from the location of his heart. In the center of his chest, a cyst-like organ was beating like a heart.
"Undying Cyst."
Aemon downed his glass in one go, smiling: "You must have forgotten. Let me help you recall."
"You have not truly resurrected, you were a Living Dead from the start."
Shawn placed his hand at the very center of his chest.
He felt the vibration, his thoughts seemed to return to when he had just come back to life. In the fragmented memories, it seemed the doll-like girl had mentioned this term at the very beginning of his revival.
Shawn murmured, "What is this about?"
Aemon stood up looking afar into the gray mist, calmly said, "The handiwork of a Demigod Witch Demon. The Power of the Book of the Dead."
"The Undying Power of the Rotting Egg Mother has been implanted into your body."
"So you were never truly afraid."
"Because you were never essentially a living being!"
Why is this happening?
Shawn’s mind seemed to be struck, his expression pained, as if his thoughts were jumbled, Knowledge whispering in tumultuous agitation.