Circle of Inevitability Chapter 529 - 529 Irrational

529 Irrational

529 Irrational

Burmans raised hands released a sprinkling of fluorescent powder.

His body began to fade, growing more transparent, as if he had transformed into a being from the spirit worlddifficult for ordinary people to perceive.

In the blink of an eye, the Demon Warlock vanished.

Lumian made no move to intervene or evade potential attacks. Calmly, he retrieved the Flog boxing gloves adorned with iron-black spikes from his Travelers Bag and wore them.

Completing this preparation, he suddenly knelt on one knee, pressing his hands to the ground.

Crimson flames erupted in all directions from Lumians body, accompanied by a series of explosions.

Amidst the rumbling, flames surged, dominating the grayish-black wilderness. Burmans black-robed figure materialized in midair.

He slowly floated towards Lumian, narrowing the distance between them.

Lumians figure abruptly vanished, reappearing behind Burman.

Spirit World Traversal!

Without hesitation, Lumian, holding a crimson fireball in his left hand, harrumphed.

Two beams of white light shot out from his nose, targeting Burman.

Floating in midair, Burman didnt lose consciousness as before. His body swayed, forcefully turning around to observe Lumian descending into the sea of flames on the ground.

An illusory vertical eye, dark purple and nearly black, materialized between Burmans brows, reflecting Lumians figure amid pale-white patterns.

Almost simultaneously, a lanky black shadow emerged from within Burmans body. Nearby, arms made of bones or decayed flesh and pus extended from the void, encircling Burmans transparent and thin form.

He hadnt used witchcraft to quietly approach Lumian and strike. Instead, he had clandestinely swapped his spirit with the undead under his command, setting a trap to entice the enemy into deploying that peculiar spell to attack his body.

In such a scenario, the absence of ones Spirit Body meant immunity to abilities targeting the Soul Body!

Burman could then seize the opportunity to use the Eye of the Spirit to intimidate the enemy and create an opening for the manipulated undead.

This time, he refrained from delving deeper into the secret of the other partys Spirit Body. His goal was to uncover its vulnerabilities, strike with a lethal blow, and absorb the corresponding mystical knowledge!

Having suffered greatly from the Spell of Harrumph the previous night, he had used this ability as a breakthrough from the beginning.

In an instant, Burmans spirit completed the exchange with the lanky shadow and returned to his body.

Simultaneously, Lumian experienced once again the sensation of his spirit being intimidated and suppressed, as if frozen. Terrifying arms covered in festering warts or with eyes extended from the void, reaching out for his body.

At that moment, the crimson fireball in Lumians left hand erupted.

Boom!

The explosions force was mostly mitigated by the Flog boxing gloves, but since they werent fully covered, the exposed part of Lumians left palm was turned into a bloody mess.

An intense and familiar pain shot through his brain and Spirit Body, bringing him back to awareness.

Seizing this moment of clarity, Lumian activated the black mark on his right shoulder again, vanishing above the sea of flames and disappearing from the strange undead arms extending from the void.

Likewise, he remained vigilant against Burmans Eye of Illusory.

The crimson, nearly white fireball in his left hand was structurally unstable. He had to divert his attention to maintain it, and he couldnt sustain it when affected by the Eye of Illusory, leading to its natural disintegration and a self-

inflicted awakening.

If this failed to disrupt the Eye of Illusorys intimidation, the sea of flames below served as Lumians second preparation. The residual aura of the Blood Emperor in his right hand was his last resort.

Upon vanishing, Lumian reappeared behind Burman once more.

Prepared, Burman raised his hands and scattered a tree-like powder.

Crackling sounds followed as silver-white lightning struck Lumians head, as though a storm ruler had unleashed divine retribution from the sky.

For most Beyonders, this would be enough to paralyze and make them tremble incessantly. Yet, Lumian showed no such signs. Instead, he appeared like a reflection in the water, shattered by the lightning.

The real Lumian was curled up at the bottom of the figure. Burman had struck the phantom created using the Niese Face!

The Niese Face was essentially an illusion, but it couldnt be cast on others or items. Lumian had to rely on himself, pretending to be a root system with branches and flowers above, forming a derived illusion.

There was no fundamental difference between this and using the Niese Face to make himself taller and bulkier.

Amidst the crackling lightning, two crimson fireballs materialized beneath Lumians feet and behind him.

Rumble!

The fireball exploded, propelling Lumian towards the levitating Burman.

Burman, being close proximity, couldnt dodge the swift Lumian in time. He could only slightly turn his body as a bone spear sprouted from his shoulder, its tip unusually sharp.

A grin spread across Lumians face. He didnt evade, allowing the bone spear to pierce his right chest.

With a resounding thud, he swung his left fist, delivering a powerful blow to the side of Burmans face. The Demon Warlocks head twisted, revealing deep blood-stained, pus-filled holes on his face. His eyes burned with rage, as if he were witnessing the murderer of his wife!

The black mark on Lumians right shoulder emitted a dim light once more.

His figure vanished beside Burman, dissolving into the encircling lanky black shadows and other undead creatures, leaving behind the bone spear stained with his blood.

This time, Lumian reappeared dozens of meters away, at the edge of the sea of flames.

The wound on his right chest was grotesque, blood dripping from it. In his hand appeared a dark-red bone flute with a hole in it.

Symphony of Hatred!

Lumian brought the bone flute to his lips. As he retreated, he played a mournful and haunting melody.

Once again invoking the Eye of Illusory, Burman, who was on the verge of catching up, was frozen in astonishment. Even the undead ceased their movements.

Suddenly, blood and pus seeped from Burmans eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, as if a muffled and invisible explosion had occurred within him.

His anger, paranoia, and thirst for revenge were fueled by the Symphony of Hatred.

This inflicted a severe blow on him.

Lumian refrained from playing the Symphony of Hatred from the outset because Burman differed from other Beyonders. Others needed to identify the problem, but with Burman, there were too many uncertainties.

His mental state was extremely unstable, burdened by severe psychological issues. His overwhelming desire to revive his wife and seek revenge on the Islander swindler was palpable. His body had undergone modifications from the Death domain, and Lumian had inflicted significant injuries on him the previous night. There were substantial hidden dangers...

Faced with such an adversary, Lumian himself was uncertain about the outcome if he were to unleash the Symphony of Hatred through the shepherds flute. It might be manageable if it only triggered desires and emotions, but if Burmans mental state lost even the most basic restraints, the Demon Warlock could potentially lose control on the spot, transforming into a monstrous entity with mixed abilities.

Such a monster would likely be even more challenging to deal with than Burman!

Hence, after the Spell of Harrumph failed, Lumian promptly shifted to using Flog boxing gloves to kindle Burmans corresponding desires and emotions. This strategic approach increased the likelihood that when Lumian eventually used the Symphony of Hatred, it would exploit the targets emotions and desires, inflicting severe harm.

Observing Burman descend into the sea of flames amid the eruption of emotions and desires, Lumian executed another Spirit World Traversal, appearing in front of him in an instant.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He extended his arms, unleashing a relentless barrage of attacks on Burmans body.

On the surface of his Flog fists, a crimson fireball, almost white, compressed layer by layer.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Flog tore at Burmans flesh like a two-headed python.

Rumble!

Crimson fireballs erupted around Lumian, with no concern for waste. They formed a barrier, preventing the lanky figure, strange arms, and other undead from interfering.

One punch, two punches, three punches. Lumians eyes were fixed on the mangled Burman.

At that moment, he reflected on the village destroyed by Burman and the innocent lives lost because of him.

How many were beloved wives, waiting husbands, dependent parents, and cherished children?

Cordu had been annihilated due to the ambitions of the evil gods. What about the innocent?

Lumians eyes gradually turned crimson as he clenched his fists.

This time, he didnt empathize with Burman. Instead, he placed himself in the village he had destroyed and the lives he had taken.

Wasnt Cordu like this back then?

The ambitions of these evil gods are to blame!

In just a few seconds, Burman snapped out of his pain and emitted an evil, cold, and incomprehensible voice.

The sound seemed to peel away Lumians flesh, exposing his Spirit Body to the perilous sunlight and the grayish-black gravel.

Lumians movements slowed, and the grotesque arms finally reached in, dragging Burman away from the area.

Phew... Lumian exhaled and recovered.

He didnt pursue. Instead, he gazed silently at the void ahead, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.

Rumble!

Amidst the sudden eruption of intense flames, Burmans body materialized, shattering from an explosion.

Fire Infusion!

Hunters Fire Infusion!

In truth, Lumian hadnt acted rationally. His optimal strategy would have been to seize the moment when Burmans emotions and desires were ignited and strike at his vital points with the Symphony of Hatred, delivering a decisive blow. However, he yearned to repeatedly pummel the hidden version of himself that terrified him!

With a thud, Burmans head clattered to the ground.

In his daze, he caught sight of a slender figure with black hair, blue eyes, and a delicate face.

It was his wife, Helen.

Y-youre back? Burman couldnt help but smile and extend his arm.

He no longer had an arm.

Gradually, he lost consciousness. Darkness enveloped his vision, as if sunlight lurked deep within.

Demon Warlock Burmandead.