They all call me Great Master

Melvil sprayed the tea in his mouth straight out without swallowing.

But it was not over yet!

The mere thought of the tea he had already ingested made Melvil's face turn extremely unsightly, and at that moment, Arthur, who was sitting cross-legged in his chair, began to deliberately rotate his ankle.

Even though he was wearing boots, this motion immediately reminded Melvil of…

Footskin!@@novelbin@@

Blech!

The creator of 'Death Mask', the strongest, one of the Earl of South Los's '16th Staff Team', the Grand Duke of the Inner Bay's spy, was hunched over, loudly vomiting.

Sitting opposite him, Arthur deliberately covered his nose and while making a dodging motion backward, he said.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, you look just like a dog."

Silence.

Melvil, who was loudly vomiting, froze upon hearing these words.

He was reminded once again of that rainy night in South Los ten years ago, just after he had completed a 'hunt', when he encountered that man.

That man from 'Death Poetry Society's Thirty Choir', known as the 'Left Cantor'.

He was directly defeated.

The power he took pride in was utterly useless in front of that man.

Instead, he was manipulated, attacked by that man.

That situation, fury yet despair—

'I'm sorry!

Please, spare me!

I'll never dare to use 'Death's' name again!'

He lay prostrate on the ground, loudly begging for mercy.

And that man indeed spared him.

'You look just like a dog, don't you?'

That man, adhering to the old-school style of 'Death Poetry Society', spared him but also left him with an unforgettable assessment.

From then on, he could never find peace within himself.

'You look just like a dog!'

'You look just like a dog!'

'You look just like a dog!'

While eating, sleeping, meditating, or mixing potions, these words echoed in his head like demonic sounds, and his already slightly problematic 'spirituality' became turbid, sluggish, and then chaotic.

Just when he was on the verge of breaking down, it was the Grand Duke who saved him!

It was the Grand Duke who rescued him!

To repay the Grand Duke, he became a spy!

Yes!

He must repay the Grand Duke!

The rest?

It doesn't matter!

Almost hypnotizing himself, Melvil wiped the corner of his mouth and stood up again, this hunchbacked man glaring ferociously at Arthur.

"You'll never know what kind of price you will pay for those words you said!"

"Oh?

How about I pour you some tea as an apology?"

Arthur said, picking up the teapot, and poured tea into the cup.

The orange-red crystal-clear tea under the moonlight emitted a faint halo, appearing even more enchanting.

Yet, witnessing this scene, Melvil only felt humiliated!

An unprecedented sense of humiliation overwhelmed the heart of this betrayer!

At this moment, the betrayer was once again reminded of the moment he knelt!

Afterward, the betrayer pulled out a white mask from his bosom.

The mask depicted a human face, entirely in pure white, without any pattern or decoration, leaving only two holes at the eye positions.

"Go to hell!"

The betrayer took a step outward with his left leg and violently spread his arms upward, emitting a throat-ripping roar as he was about to don the mask.

But suddenly, the betrayer's movement stalled—

Ouch!

Testicular pain!

The intense pain that had never been felt before surged from his groin, causing the betrayer to bend forward at the waist, and his roar turned into—

"Oww, oww, oww!"

Immediately after, such screams morphed again.

"Gah, ahh, ahh!"

The protruding buttocks were too tempting, and Arthur couldn't help but use the "Hand of Void" to give the other a jab.

The thick fingers thrust in fully.

The acute pain from the double attack instantly made the betrayer kneel to the ground.

The weeping betrayer on his knees shuddered uncontrollably from head to toe.

The mask in his hand dropped beside him on the ground, then flew into Arthur's hand.

The betrayer tried to stop it, but he had barely raised his hand when he was forced to his knees again.

Pain!

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Such pain!

And Arthur, meanwhile, took the mask handed to him by the "Hand of Void"—

[Name: Death Hound]

[Type: Other Item]

[Quality: Epic]

[Attributes: 1, Hound; 2, Frenzied Hunt]

[Requirements: Aura of Death]

[Remarks: After 'Tower of Mist' was destroyed by The Holy Court, 'Black Robe' knew that seeking revenge with just the four of them was not enough. Therefore, he began to seek more like-minded individuals, those persecuted by The Holy Court congregated under his banner. He prepared to wage war, but he failed. Before the war even started, his old friend and partner 'White Robe' betrayed them to The Holy Court—"I don't want war to ravage the land again!" Speaking such words, 'White Robe' stormed their secret meeting place with The Holy Court's Holy Knights, and the high-ranking members of the Rebels' Alliance Army, who were planning their campaign, were caught in one fell swoop. A hundred and forty-seven members of the Rebels' Alliance Army leadership were burned alive, and at least sixty thousand troops were hanged at 'Celtic Fort.' 'Black Robe' survived, but guilt drove him mad; he started to delve into the knowledge he had once sealed away with his own hands—sorry, sorry, it's my fault, hehehe hahaha]]

...

[Hound: A hunting hound constructed from forbidden knowledge lurking in the shadows, not only capable of understanding complex commands but also extremely loyal, immune to betrayal, with a physique as strong as an arcane creature. Balance in attack and defense is superb, tirelessly on the hunt, with a sense of smell unmatched by any other and able to survive without air; resistance to sulfur and flames to some extent, feeding on 'Aura of Death' and can spit 'Deathly Fire,' and in darkness or shadows becomes automatically invisible]

[Frenzied Hunt: The hunting hound summoned through 'hunting' can grow by capturing prey and consuming 'Aura of Death']

(Remark 1: When the hound dies, the item becomes ineffective and cannot be resummoned.)

(Remark 2: The hound can exist in the form of a common dog but will not eat dog food; however, it can drink water.)

(Remark 3: The hound can appear during the day, but it dislikes sunlight.)

(Remark 4: If one opts to wear it instead of summoning the 'hound,' the wearer's consciousness will be subtly influenced by the hound, and their [Spirituality] will become chaotic and violent; ultimately, they will lose control completely.)

...

Looking at the [Death Hound] in his hand, Arthur roughly understood the current state of Melvil.

The other must have seen the mask-shaped [Death Hound] and decided to wear it outright.

Indeed, most people would opt to wear the mask on sight, not realizing it was a summoning item—facing a mad alchemist's creation, who could say anything?

'It's all 'Destiny'!

The young 'Spirit Medium' sighed inwardly as he looked at the disheveled Melvil, unable to help exclaim—

"You really are a dog, aren't you?"

Similar words to those before emanated from Arthur's mouth.

But unlike the previous irritation, this time Melvil's mentality exploded at the pain of being attacked from both sides.

What repayment.

What Grand Duke.

It's not important anymore!

None of it is important!

All he purely wanted was to kill the detestable 'Spirit Medium' before him!

For that, he would do anything!

And at the very moment this thought emerged—

Snap!

The last nerve of the betrayer snapped.