Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 287: The Burnt Words

The crimson light shining from the forest slowly scattered, and most of the mess evaporated into a fog. The students in the nearby dormitories rushed out of their rooms to take a closer look at the forest, but they still couldn’t help but wonder if they were dreaming.

The terrifying meat giant had been completely vaporized, and the skeleton giant that defeated it had disappeared from sight too. All that was left were specks of mana that were swiftly being scattered along with the wind, which ironically only made the forest look even more dreamlike. 

Were it not for their still aching heads, they would have definitely thought that it was all an illusion.

The only one amongst the crowd who knew the inside story were Melty and the members of the Request Club, who had just arrived at the scene. The members of the Request Club cheered joyfully at their victory whereas Melty couldn’t help but shed tears of joy.

It had been so tough, but justice finally triumphed over evil. Grandar’s magnificent punch vanquished the fear that had been looming inside the hearts of Melty and the members of the Request Club over the past few days.

… 

In the forest, Roel quietly gazed down on Marceus.

The latter’s body was a complete mess. His robe had turned into rags, and his body was marred with a mess of flesh and blood. The organs threatening to spill out of the incision on his abdomen were still thumping desperately, but their efforts were likely to be futile with all the blood profusely spilling out of his broken blood vessels.

Marceus wasn’t dead yet, but he had lost far too much of his life force through his tribute. It was likely that he wouldn’t survive past tonight. Knowing this, he looked at Roel and feebly cried for help.

“Save me, save me…”

His quivering eyes reflected his deep fear of death, but Roel was unmoved by his pleas.

He would have to be braindead to entertain the idea of treating an evil cultist. If he allowed Marceus to catch a breather, the latter would surely pull off another tribute within moments and make a comeback.

“Do I l

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