Volume Two, Chapter 45

'Heart...beats so fast. '

'Will I... die here? '

The silver-haired boy's throat rolled. He witnessed the companions who talked and laughed with him were torn apart by this limb, and turned into blood-stained lumps that exuded an unpleasant smell. He understood that they would never move again, never play with him again.

"Son, we're going to cut off your hand first."

The hypocritical adult smiled and said terrible words in a flat tone.

"Don't worry, boy," they said, "everything will be all right. Not only that, but you will gain great power."

'strength? '

'Did everyone die just for that thing called power? '

The boy glanced at the shapeless corpse on the ground. There was a question in my heart.

Urged by the voice behind him, the boy took two steps forward in a daze. There were already adults standing there, they bent down and picked up the blood-stained arm from a pool of blood. They walked towards the boy, and with each step, the blood stained on their arms would drip and fall to the ground, making a slight noise. That voice sounded like a death knell announcing the impending death.

The boy raised his head, his eyes fixed on the adults in front of him. There is no fear in the adult's eyes, and there is only joking. As if looking at a lamb dedicated to the gods.

"Then, here we go."

"Sir, can I refuse?" the boy asked suddenly.

"Of course not. You have no right to refuse."

"why?"

"As a loyal believer of the God of Light, isn't it right to make sacrifices?"

The boy's lips moved, wanting to say something, but he quickly let go. Because he understood that even if he said this sentence, no one would listen to it. He lowered his head in frustration, a self-deprecating smile hung on the corner of his mouth.

The adults took out their long swords and kept scalding them with the flames from the stove until the tip of the sword was burnt red. The boy had seen this before. At that time, his partner was cut off by this sword.

'So... is it my turn? '

The boy lowered his head, his messy hair covering his expression.

Soon, the adults came to him with long swords that were burning red.

The air around him became hot, and the boy could feel the long sword raised above his arm. The falling traces of molten iron left terrible marks on the boy's limbs. The boy closed his eyes and bit his lip. What followed was an indescribable pain. The blade swung down, splitting the limbs in two. The burning pain seemed to scorch the nerves. The huge pain made the boy pass out from the pain, biting his lips and bleeding.

The boy fell to the ground clutching his wound. In the hazy world, he could feel some cold object approaching. His hand covering the wound was pushed away by the adults, and then, there was a subtle touch feeling from the cross section of the wound. He could feel the countless granulation wriggling, connecting the cross section of the wound.

The next moment, the boy no longer felt the pain. But even so, his head was still groggy. He stood up against the wall, and then looked at his severed limb. Now, there was a slender arm there. This arm looks a bit slender for a boy. He recognized the true identity of this arm at a glance.

This is the terrifying existence that devours the children accompanying the boy.

The boy's heart beat faster and faster. He could feel that there was a new power running in his blood. That is a powerful force that is far from human beings. However, unlike other children, the boy did not feel any discomfort after his limb was attached. He tried to bend his new arm. The slender limbs swayed according to his will.

"Successful! My Lord Bishop!"

"This will be our first step!"

The boy sat on the ground, his pupils paled. His mood didn't connect with those grown-ups around him.

It was as if he noticed the boy's weirdness. The middle-aged man called "Bishop" walked slowly towards him, then squatted down.

"How do you feel, Oswell?" the Bishop asked.

"..." The boy was silent.

"The wound, is it still hurting?" He caressed the slender arm and looked at the joint.

"I..." The boy looked at the inhuman limbs, his throat choked up, "Am I cursed?"

"No, you are blessed," the bishop replied. A kind smile appeared on his face.

……

As the sole survivor of the limb grafting project, a boy named Oswell gains terrifying powers. Although he is a human being, he possesses power comparable to a high-level demon. Under the cultivation of the bishop, he quickly grew to a height beyond the reach of his peers. On the day when he was eighteen, he took over all the affairs of the Demon Purification Agency as a genius.

Of course, many people are puzzled or even questioned that such a young child controls the decision-making of the agency. However, when everyone saw Oswell's terrifying power, no one raised any objections.

Affected by the tenth-order demon limb, Oswell gained brutal strength, lightning speed, and extremely fast regeneration ability. Under these conditions, he was even able to fight legendary creatures. To say that the only disadvantage this limb brought him was that Oswell's already indifferent character became even more unpredictable under the influence of the demon blood. Even his superiors don't understand what's going on in this eccentric young man's mind every day.

This is the result of the limb grafting project, a human being more terrifying than a demon.

……

All the bandages were removed, and Oswell looked at the liberated dark blue slender arm. Sure enough, this smell was exactly the same as the smell found on Alice before. Oswell grafted Catalina's limbs and gained supreme power; ten years later, his old enemy actually wore Catalina's leather clothing and wielded the same power. This is why Oswell was so excited when Alice first revealed her identity as Subcutaneous. The reason is that the power of the two comes from the same source.

"Should it be accidental... or inevitable?" The corner of Oswell's mouth raised, "Your Highness, let us witness the end of our destiny together."

The silver-haired youth raised his dark blue arms and raised his long sword. The moonlight poured down through the clouds, illuminating the cold sword body and the cool and handsome face of the young man.

As he first used the arm ten years ago, Oswell gathers all his strength. Powerful magic power surged from all the limbs, and then they all gathered on that arm. A circuit of magic power emerged from the blue skin. He took a step back and threw the weapon hard. The distant long sword turned into a dazzling light, and flew towards the black spot in the sky.

The target, of course, is Her Royal Highness Alice.