Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 430.2: Castling (2)

Roel had known from the start that the battle wouldn’t be to his advantage.

Be it in terms of abilities or physical condition, he was in his weakest ever state ever since he reached Origin Level 4. If his enemy was the same Felder Elric from the March Turmoil, he might have stood a chance, but that was clearly not the case.

From the moment he saw Bryan, he noticed a sinister apparition shadowing the other party. Others might have seen it as a manifestation of gray miasma, but what he saw were countless fragmented souls existing in a mishmash of wriggling limbs, innards, and body parts.

It was a sight that would have rattled even the bravest of souls.

Roel would be lying if he said that he wasn’t fazed, but he was able to quickly regain his composure since he was aware that Bryan was concealing some kind of secret.

Two centuries was a long time even for high transcendents. It was theoretically possible to achieve that level of lifespan, but that was easier said than done.

Far too many things in life could lead to a premature death, and Felder Elric had most definitely died in the wake of the March Turmoil. There was no way the Xeclydes and the Ascarts would have slipped up on that.

The only possible explanation was that Bryan had come back to life, but that was an ability that surpassed even the means of the evil cults. The only ones who might possess the power to pull that off were the gods.

Roel suppressed his nausea and insistently kept his eyes on the floating mutilated corpses before him. For a fleeting moment, he caught sight of a familiar face.

Bron Elric.

That was the name of the young man who had lost his life when the trajectory of fate changed several years ago. Before his downfall, he used to be one of the representative figures of the Theocracy’s young scions, leading the Elrics Youth Faction. He was also one of Bryan’s many children.

Roel had witnessed Bron’s death with his own eyes. Bryan had personally taken his life to appease the infuriated crowd.

What could the presence of his soul in this disgust

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