CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 30 : THE WHITE GHOUL PRINCE LURZAK

GHHHHAAAAAAAARRRRRHHH!!!"

A scream erupted from the blindfolded ghoul.

I wouldn’t lose.

The white blindfolded ghoul screamed again. His energy started gathering around him, then a Spinal Pulse appeared. It began at the base of his neck and surged down his spine like a wave. His back arched violently as the pulse expanded, releasing bursts of white energy every second. The ground around him cracked, and thin bone-like spikes slowly pushed out from his spine, floating around him in a circular motion. The air grew heavy. Anyone nearby felt a sharp pressure in their chest, as if something were squeezing their lungs.

"Hey, sis, it seems Smilven has lost his mind."

"Hey, Smilven, give up. It’s a command," Lurzak said.

The White Queen added, “You should stop him, Lurzak. Before he does something stupid.”

"OK," Lurzak answered.

But Smilven didn’t respond—his thoughts were drowning in madness.

His head twitched once. Then again.

With a sudden jerk, his blindfold tore off under the pressure of his energy.

His eyes were gone.

Empty sockets oozed faint white mist.

"I... obey no one," he growled. His voice was guttural and distorted, as if something else were speaking through him.

The bone-like spikes suddenly shot outward like blades from him , embedding themselves into Elinius and Vaelion.

Then Smilven moved.

Fast. Too fast.

He launched his attack on Elinius and Vaelion.

Elinius started sending Swifts, while Vaelion couldn’t move.

Before any other move, the White Ghoul Prince raised his hand and said,

"We lost this round, Your Majesty Isphyriela."

And with a calm, almost amused smile, he disappeared.

He reappeared behind Smilven.

Without warning, two Spinal Pulses tore through Smilven’s back with a sickening crunch.

They pierced deep, then drank his life force like starving leeches.

And then, with a twist of his fingers,

they began to spin like fan blades slick with blood,

a cursed engine grinding through muscle and marrow,

carving through flesh and nerves in a vicious spiral,

until his insides were nothing but twisted ribbons,

his kidneys reduced to a sludgy mess.

Smilven stood frozen in a grotesque scene, his mangled body collapsing beside a pile of his own shredded organs.

Lin watched the body fall and in that moment he realized Smilven was dead.

It was a disgusting scene, enough to make him want to vomit.

The White Prince said in a sharp, high-pitched voice, “Useless. I spared you when I killed the others because I thought you would obey.”

Lin realized that the man who killed the white blindfolded ghoul was the prince.

THE WHITE PRINCE turned to Lin with a smile, his hair covering his eyes.

Lin felt a killing intent coming from him.

Isphyriela announced the start of Round 2.

She wasn’t giving anyone time to breathe.

Elinius and Vaelion stood on the stage. The Queen of the Blue Elves told Lymeria, the blue elf with the two bony tails, to join her uncle.

Elinius was exhausted from the battle—he had used a lot of his energy.

Oriliana warned Elinius to be careful of Lurzak.

Lurzak gestured for the two other serpent princesses to join him.

Now, standing on the big field, were six figures—three on each side: the exhausted Elinius, Vaelion, and Lymeria against Lurzak, Ivarina, and Serpina.

Elinius’s mana was nearly depleted.

He had burned through his reserves holding off the Wolfman and Leucinta, pushing himself to the edge to stop them before they could unleash their powers. Giving them time would’ve been suicide.

While he was still catching his breath, the White Prince appeared—already behind the three of them.

Without warning, three Spinal Pulses tore through the air.

Lymeria threw up an ice shield in panic, trying to protect herself and her brother, but it shattered like glass.

The Pulses speared through them, sinking into flesh, piercing organs and spine.

And then... they began to absorb their life energy.

The Queen of the Blue Elves staggered, pressing her hand to her gut, blood dripping from her mouth.

Elinius barely managed to dodge the attacks of the two girls still standing—until a quick glance to the other side of the ring turned his blood cold.

His allies... were falling.

Dead.

Damn.

And just as hope dimmed, Lurzak appeared behind Ivarina and Serpina like a phantom in the mist.

Before they could even turn around, his hands plunged into their backs, fingers curling into their cores.

Their screams echoed as their life energy was sucked from their bodies in glowing streams.

Their flesh withered, their eyes lost their light, and they collapsed like broken dolls—lifeless in his arms.

“Thank God I didn’t join them,” Lin murmured.

Those three princesses were fools.

They ended up as nothing more than pawns.

Lurzak stepped forward slowly, brushing a smear of blood off his glove as if it were dust.

His eyes met Elinius’s—calm, unreadable, almost... bored.

Then, with a faint smile, he said:

"How about this, Elinius? You surrender and let that guy join the fight instead." He gestured lazily toward Lin.

Damn, what does Mr. Curtain Face want from me?

"And you get to rest. Heal up. Catch your breath."

He tilted his head, his voice smooth like silk soaked in poison.

Seems like a fair deal, doesn’t it? Both sides gain something. I won’t break your bones, you won’t die right away, and your team gets a fresh fighter on the field.

He took another step forward.

"Unless..." he added, his tone turning colder, "you’d rather die here, exhausted, bleeding, and dragged into the dirt like the others."

The arena fell into silence.

Oriliana agreed and ordered Elinius to get off the stage.

"What? Why did this battle end so fast?" Lin said.

"You can’t wait to see me kill? What a deal—sacrificing me for your brother’s sake."

Elinius walked off the stage and said to Lin, "Sorry, brother-in-law. I did my best. Good luck."

Lin took a deep breath and counted six dead bodies: three serpents, two blue elves, and one wolfman.

They were enough for his plan.

But he thought, Let’s fight. It’ll be better than using my trump card, and less destructive.

Lin walked to the large ring.

He cracked his neck with his hand as a warm-up.

"Lurzak, I can smell the mana pouring off you," he said.

"And I’m really excited to absorb every bit of it. Bring it, motherfucker."

Before anything else could happen, Lurzak vanished—his speed too fast for the eye to follow.

In a blink, a brutal kick crashed into Lin’s side.

He barely managed to raise his arm in time to block it, but the force still sent him flying, slamming into the ground with a thunderous crack.

"Aaarghhh!"

Dust erupted around him as the arena trembled from the impact.

Before Lin could recover, Lurzak raised a hand—

and five Spinal Pulses burst into existence.

They shot toward Lin’s body like hunting spears, aiming to tear through him while he was still down.

But something changed.

Lin’s eyes flickered—then flared bright azure.

His instincts took over.

His body moved before thought could catch up, twisting just enough for the first Pulse to miss his heart by inches.

The others followed, but now Lin was moving—fast—rolling through the dirt with supernatural precision, his blue eyes glowing like cold fire.

"It seems you have some good moves," Lurzak said.

Lin began to move even faster. His eyes glowed an intense azure, the only light visible through the dust and chaos.

Then, in a flash, he dropped low, sliding across the ground.

With a swift sweep of his leg, he knocked Lurzak off balance—

and without mercy, drove a brutal kick straight between his legs.

“GHHH—!”

Lurzak lurched forward, eyes wide in raw agony.

Before he could recover, Lin had already unsheathed his dagger—its edge glinting with fresh poison.

One clean slash.

Two fingers hit the ground.

“AAAGHHH!”

Lurzak’s scream tore through the arena.

Oriliana said to Elinius, "How did he evolve like that?"

"I don’t know... last time I faced him, I would’ve been killed," Elinius admitted, his eyes fixed on the chaos unfolding in the arena.

Down below, Lin tilted his head, eyes calm but mocking.

"Keep acting cocky like a spoiled brat," he said, wiping the blood off his blade.

"And I’ll start cutting more than just fingers."

A low laugh echoed. Isphyriela’s eyes gleamed with delight as she watched, fascinated by this fresh, unpredictable style of fighting.