Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe
Chapter 1017 - 1017: Absolute Madman

A young man with dark hair and pale skin emerged from the eastern gates.

The moment he made his presence known, the crowd immediately began cheering for him. Truth be told, they would cheer for anyone except Merlin. They truly wanted the fraud to lose.

Slade was clad in black armor and was already wielding a sharp saber. His expression dripped with arrogance, and the way he looked at Merlin… cold and dismissive… was as if he was staring down at an insect.

Seeing the hideous face paint and the bizarre and colorful clothes the man was wearing, Slade couldn't help but sneer, his tone oozing with disdain, "Fuckin' clown."

Merlin's smile deepened.

"We meet again… Slade."

The youth from the Tower of Daybreak frowned. He couldn't recall ever meeting this clown.

"I'm going to enjoy hurting you," Merlin said with a wide grin. "And when I'm done with you… you'd wish you were dead."

Slade's eyes narrowed, and he said evenly, his tone cold and heavy, "You're lucky this place forbids us from killing, clown. Or else, you'd be—"

Merlin interrupted him. Turning to the commentators situated in mid-air, he loudly said, "Hey, Almond! Begin the match already! My hands are itching for blood!"

"It's Almansour!" said the commentator with a forced smile.

"Huh?" Merlin put on an innocent look. "What'd I say?"

Almansour vanquished the dark thought of strangling Merlin to the ground. He displayed a professional and enigmatic smile and declared, "Merlin the Mad versus Slade of Daybreak! And… FIGHT!"

In an instant, Slade coated his lower body with mana and dashed towards the clown, arriving within fighting range in seconds.

Then, he viciously thrust his blade towards Merlin's jugular vein, a devious glint in his eyes. Yes, he wasn't attempting to kill the man, but he sure as hell was going to make him suffer for all those words he'd said to him.

Merlin remained standing motionlessly, as if completely unaware of the danger about to befall him.

Images of what he'd witnessed in Velvet Dreams suddenly flickered through his mind, like a cruel, unshakable vision.

Young women, abducted and broken, forced into lives of servitude and pleasure to satisfy the noblemen's vile debauchery.

He had seen it all… the torment, the cruelty, the unspeakable acts they had endured.

What those monsters did to those women… even death would have been a mercy.

And although Adam had publicly executed the Rollins Couple—the owner of Velvet Dreams—he had never gotten his hands on the true mastermind financing the human trafficking ring.

Slade and his uncle, Alcott Shipley.

And now… one of them had come, guided by fate, to taste the full fury of his wrath.

Slade's blade was inches away from slashing Merlin's neck. At the last possible moment, the latter's eyes flickered with a cruel light.

He shifted his body at an unnatural angle, as if… breaking into a dance.

Merlin's right arm shot forward, curling around the blade as if it were a lithe serpent. And then, he flexed his arm.

Under the dumbfounded gazes of the spectators, Slade's blade—a Rank 2 Artifact—instantly shattered like fragile glass.

Merlin's arm moved unhindered, then viciously grabbed the back of Slade's neck.

"You know," the madman said in a cold, measured voice, "the best part of being a Herbalist, at least for me, isn't that I can heal people."

He leaned in slightly, a maniacal glint in his pale blue eyes.

"It's that I understand the human body well enough… to inflict pain no one should ever survive."

Slade was still trying to recover from the shock of his weapon being destroyed, so he was too late to notice Merlin's free hand shoot toward his throat.

The madman coated his index finger with mana and, with surgical precision, pressed two points around Slade's vocal cords, instantly robbing him of the ability to speak.

Slade's eyes widened in horror. His lips parted, and he screamed for help.

Alas… no one could hear him. Not even himself.

Crack!

An ominous sound echoed through the battlefield, gradually causing the spectators to quiet down and watch the violence unfolding with bated breath.

Merlin had viciously shattered every bone in Slade's weapon hand, which was still caught in his grip like a snake catching prey mid-constriction.

"Ah, what a wonderful sound!" The madman's voice traveled through every inch of the arena, causing the spectators' hearts to shudder.

He glanced at Slade, who had gone deathly pale by now, and patted his left shoulder. He asked with a concerned look on his face, "Hey, why aren't you speaking to me? Do you think I'm ugly? Surely not, right? My mum used to say I was the most handsome kid in town."

Crack!

Another ominous sound reverberated on the battlefield. This time, Slade's other arm—specifically his shoulder joint—had been savagely shattered to pieces by the madman.

Tears rolled down Slade's face as his body violently shuddered. He threw his head back and screamed… yet, no voice escaped his lips.

"Huh? What was that?" Merlin brought his ear closer to Slade's face. "You wish to lie down? Okay, buddy!"

The madman gently laid Slade's body on the grassy field. The latter writhed in utter agony, but the more he moved, the more pain he felt in both his arms.

Merlin stood back up, stroking his chin with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Hmm, what to do? What to do?" he mumbled. "How do I make the pain go away… Ah, that's right!"

Merlin's eyes lit up like a brilliant star.

"My mum once said to me," he said with a crazy gleam in his eye, "if you want to dull one pain… inflict a worse one."

He then burst into laughter. "Fafafa!"

Then, he raised his foot and…

Crack! Crack!

…Shattered Slade's kneecaps.

The spectators were utterly horrified by this point. They couldn't believe what they were witnessing.

A rogue Magus taking care of—not to mention, utterly humiliating—a genius of Daybreak with such ease?

Just who the hell was this madman?!

"Ah, since I'm already here, might as well…" Merlin's voice trailed off.

Crack! Crack!

Slade's ankles were destroyed as well.

Then, the madman slowly circled Slade's deathly pale, convulsing body. Without a hint of mercy, Merlin grabbed him by the hair and hoisted him up, leaving him hanging helplessly in mid-air.

"I told you, didn't I?" He whispered. "When I'd be done with you, you'd wish you were dead."

Merlin's lips curled into a grin… wide, unhinged, stretching from ear to ear, revealing his pearly white teeth.

He leaned in close and whispered, his voice seemingly emerging from the depths of the underworld itself:

"Now, let me take away your hope… just as you did to those women."

The madman augmented his free hand with mana, then drove it forward, viciously, mercilessly, straight into Slade's abdomen…

Unleashing the insidious technique of the Devil of Secrets!