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Chapter 138 - Chapter 138

You have killed Ade, the Right Hand of the Crucible, and a Heavenly Restriction user.

Level Up ×4

You have reached Level 42.

You've gained a new Title: Price of Sacrifice.

Voluntarily enter a long-term Binding Vow that mimics the costs and benefits of a Binding Vow. You can either exchange all of your Cursed Energy for the next month in exchange for a multiplicative boost in your physical prowess (15×), or sacrifice the strength and integrity of your body, weakening it by a factor of 10 in exchange for increased technique range (1 mile) and the ability to stockpile Cursed Energy.

The Vow can only be switched on and off at monthly intervals.

Class: Sorcerer – Level 42 (1st Grade)

Titles: Touched by the Sparks of Black, Julius the Immortal II, Price of Sacrifice

Techniques: Inverse Lv 9, Curse Inventory Lv 8, Copy Lv 6 (Earth Manipulation Lv 1, Shrine Lv 5, Ice Formation Lv 1, Ratio Lv 3, Blood Manipulation Lv 4)

Health: 8200/8200

Cursed Energy: 11000/11000

Stamina: 6700/6700

Stats:

STR: 670 AGI: 800 PER: 500 VIT: 820

END: 670 CP: 1100

Skills:

Hand-to-Hand Combat Lv 8

Cursed Energy Manipulation Lv 8

Cursed Energy Reinforcement Lv 8

Stealth Lv 8

Curtain Lv 8

Barriers Lv 3

Dagger Mastery Lv 7

Gun Mastery Lv 7

Acrobatics Lv 9

Swordsmanship Lv 9

Binding Vow Lv 6

Reversed Cursed Technique Lv 9

Mace Mastery Lv 6

Hammer Mastery Lv 5

Staff Mastery Lv 4

New Shadow Style Lv 7

Seventh Sense Lv 6

Talismans Lv 3

Bone Manipulation Lv 6

Body Control Lv 5

Free Points: 60

I stared at the notifications through half-lidded eyes.

The gains had been considerable, but it was hard to feel excited when I had caught glimpses of the devastation our conflict had caused. The city continued to shake seconds after we departed from Alex's home, and the fires were visible from the private airfield where we ended up.

The violence hadn't stopped when the Justice League won. People had looted, hurt others, and nearly overwhelmed hospitals and first responders.

I once again began to question whether it had been worth it. My vendetta. My crusade.

The plane rattled as we hit a patch of turbulence, but it did not pull me from my thoughts. Shelim was shooting me looks, and Alex was pale and sleepy, tuckered out from the adrenaline and violence.

It occurred to me, quickly and painfully, that it was far too late for regret.

I shut my eyes and let a small sigh escape my lips. I had decided, when I escaped from Lex's lab, that I would do what was necessary to put down Artisan. I had known people would die—and not just bad people—but I had gone after her anyway. I had expected fallout, but I had not expected this.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Shelim called out, his voice nearly drowned out by the propeller, but Seventh Sense let me hear him perfectly. I was tempted to ignore him, but I didn't.

"Just thinking about all the ways you could fuck me over," I said, only half joking. I was certain the betrayal would come. Of that, I was sure. I was becoming increasingly certain, however, that it would hardly matter, not with the tools at my disposal.

Shelim hummed. "Do you want to take the vow here and now while she's asleep? Because I'll do it."

And risk him using it to win Alex over to his side later?

No thanks.

"How about we don't start this little alliance by fucking over somebody?"

Shelim chuckled. "Pretty honorable, if you ask me, which I find absolutely hilarious."

I raised a brow.

"No wonder Gina has a crush on you. You take all this do-gooder thing seriously, don't you?"

That was the last thing I expected him to accuse me of.

"She's squeamish about the real cost of violence, too," Shelim continued. "Sure, there are the blood-soaked screams, the funerals, the promises of revenge and justice, depending on whose family member you butcher. But then there's the collateral damage. Random strangers. Innocent kids splattered when your fight gets out of control."

My stomach twisted.

"We all deal with it in different ways," he went on. "The Crucible's go-to is bigotry." His voice pitched upward mockingly. "They're lesser than. They should have known better. Or my favorite: we're doing this for them."

He shook his head, still amused. "That last bit was Ade's favorite. I, myself, preach something far healthier. Acceptance."

I blinked, surprised.

"Admit to yourself that you are not a good person, that you are probably deeply selfish, and that you have less regard for human life and collateral damage than you should," he said, his voice turning serious. "Yes, it is regrettable that they died. You would have avoided it if you could, and you might even spare the first revenge-seeking idiot who comes after you. But you are not going to suddenly turn yourself in, not if it means giving up what you want."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

He looked back at me and held my gaze for a long moment.

"You've gotten very good at that, haven't you? Hiding how you feel. But your words give you away, and so do your actions."

He turned back to the controls of the plane. A cloud loomed ahead.

"You probably would never have needed the Justice League if you had been willing to play a little dirtier," Shelim said, "and, honestly, a bit smarter."

"Personally, I would have split the sorcerers' attention by hiring people to go after the wife and kids, then gone after Alex when he was least protected. Or better yet, committed to the kidnapping plot but poisoned them instead with something rare and fast-acting. Sneaking him an encrypted message would not have been impossible with Alex's help, and just like that, you would have had everything you wanted. Whatever his faults were, Alex loved his family."

I considered his words carefully and weighed them against the plan I had hesitated to execute. I had to admit he might have been better at scheming.

"And what about your whole spiel about avoiding hurting people if you could?" I asked.

"Oh, I absolutely believe that," he said. "But it was necessary in this scenario. It's certainly smarter than bringing in the Justice League. You would have been better off with hired thugs and mercenaries. They wouldn't have lasted a second, but it'd be better than risking capture by the League. In certain ways, they're just as bad as us. Though I will admit, I benefited from your mistake."

On the surface, his argument was the natural evolution of the path I had already been walking. Win through whatever means necessary. I had floundered with the poison threat and doubled down by killing Ade, but there was still a line; issues I refused to compromise on, and preying on the innocent was one of them.

"If I don't draw the line somewhere, then I'm no better than Artisan," I said.

Shelim shrugged.

"And that's the difference between you and me. I care more about winning, and you seem overly concerned about the morality of it all. Morality won't stop someone from putting a knife through your throat. I prefer self-interest. It's more honest."

I blinked.

Suddenly, many of Shelim's habits made sense.

He was greed incarnate, always angling for something better, always maneuvering. That was why he had been willing to partner with Alex and me. Our history did not matter so long as he could profit. He would probably ally with Artisan if he were sure she would let him be. And the moment we were no longer useful, we would go back to being enemies, or acquaintances at best.

I even doubted his claim about sparing revenge-seekers. It made little sense if his worldview were consistent, but his casual admission of how he operated was deliberate.

He wanted to lower my guard. He wanted me to believe I had taken his measure. He wanted my trust. Maybe he even wanted me to think more like him.

I was not all ego, all the time.

I could be selfish, spiteful, one-track-minded, and reluctant to resort to extreme measures, but that reluctance had always been rooted in fear.

Fear that thousands of lives would become the price of my revenge.

Now that I had seen it happen, that I had contributed, indirectly, to the deaths of thousands, I had to admit that the fears were not unfounded, but they were not entirely logical either.

And Shelim was right about some things.

"Being a self-absorbed asshole is honest," I said, "but so is having a code and sticking to it. And mine does not include fucking over people who do not have it coming."

I had to be more ruthless, precise, and dynamic, but my plans would never come at the expense of the innocent. Vermin were fair game—always. And in the instances that I crossed lines I shouldn't have, where I genuinely hurt people, I would try to minimize the damage and make things right.

It was all I could realistically promise.

I glared at the back of Shelim's head. "You have a problem with that?"

Shelim did not look back, but I saw the corner of his lips twitch.

"Absolutely not."

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