Chapter 11: How Did He Do It?
Although Ademar was the initial boss of the first instance, Aiwass had forgotten his name years ago because of its obscurity.
Aiwass always bypassed cutscenes on four-player instances to save teammates' time.
He remembered nothing about Ademar except in combat mode—only as a hunched giant covered with purple webbed marks.
Players used to call him "Little Purple" during those times.
As the initial Transcendence Path boss, his purple aura was exceptional during early game when those types of bosses were not common, and he got the simple nickname.
He was "Little Purple" as there was a later boss in the same instance who was "Big Purple."
There were other instances where there were enemies who were nicknamed "Old Purple" and "Purple Sister."
By version 1.2, once Transcendence Path bosses became ubiquitous, the nicknames disappeared.
With his memories, Aiwass remembered the "Sinful Bartender's" simple mechanics—
Ademar clutched the counter, his arms straining visibly, ripping his sleeves.
He struck with his right hand with shocking quickness, like a whirlwind.
"[Steadfast Presence]," Aiwass shouted in advance from behind.
As he commanded, Haina's body responded first before her mind.
Her silver rings on her eyes whirled, and she wrapped her sword horizontally, supporting it with her left hand.
Lowering her center of gravity, she stamped her right leg, assuming the stance immediately to take impact.
—*Clang!*
Although it was a palm against a thin sword, it felt like a hammer crushing an anvil.
With the Law Technique of the Authority Path, her sword firmly deflected the blow!
A huge force ran through the blade, felt by Haina.
Without Aiwass's order to employ [Steadfast Presence], she'd have been knocked off balance, banging into Aiwass's wheelchair!
But now, her body rooted as a foundation, she used the force to absorb it into the ground.
Taking advantage of Ademar's momentary withdrawal, she struck back sharply!
Her sword flashed upward along his right arm, ripping to his left shoulder.
Blood spat, and the Sinful Bartender reeled backward in agony, slamming into the liquor cabinet.
Bottles dropped, crackling sharply on the ground.
Remembering her teacher's "don't overcommit" warning, Haina automatically wanted to fall back to her default stance.
But Aiwass's timely instruction sounded out.
"[Mighty Strike]."
—*Is that okay?*
A brief hesitation flashed through her head.
[Mighty Strike] was a charging move, leaving her stationary and unable to parry while preparing.
Upon striking, she couldn't adjust, allowing nimble foes to easily dodge and counter.
Her teacher did teach that it was to be employed if the foe was defenseless or helpless to flee, being brought to a position where they had to defend themselves—then breaking their defense.
Having gained advantage, she can employ [Hone Blade] to hone her sword temporarily or [Intimidation Shout] to take advantage of the foe's disadvantage, weakening them further.
She had to manage distance—neither close nor far enough—positioning the foe within [Charge Slash] range and maintaining space at her back for withdrawal, dodge, or parry.
.Wait, Aiwass was at her back.
Should she move out of the way first?
But that would leave him vulnerable.
As her thoughts ran wild, Haina's trained body moved by itself.
On Aiwass's order, she breathed deeply, grasping her sword with both hands, her back arched like a cat about to pounce.
Half a second's charge was all, and then she sprang off.
A crescent of white light flashed, cutting through the counter with smooth cleanliness.
The massive impact pinned Ademar rigid.
His left arm, lifted to parry, was severed!
The bone in the forearm had a jagged break.
His puffy, purple left hand struck the floor, and Ademar's tortured cry resounded as the purple veins quickly retreated.
The cry was so shrill it frightened Haina.
His deescalation from combat mode left her wondering if she should stay and fight.
Then Aiwass's firm voice intervened.
"Haina, stand aside."
She skipped out of the way lightly.
—A shot was fired.
A bullet shot through Ademar's left eye, blood flowering behind his head, splattering the liquor cabinet.
His body went down limply, trailing a deep red streak.
Haina didn't even notice where Aiwass concealed the gun.
He sat peacefully in his wheelchair, motionless, a faint white smoke wafting from his cloak, the hint of a smile beneath his hood.
White flecks of light sprouted from the corpse in Aiwass's sight, flowing into him.
[Defeated Second-Tier Transcendent, Gained 14 Free Experience]
Aiwass smiled contentedly.
Thanks for the kill.
In Ring of the Serpent, direct kill experience was limited—leveling from quests, crafting, reading acquired books, and daily instance rewards.
But every little bit counted.
Free experience was worth a great deal at his low level.
These 14, added to the 24 gained by killing the demonologist before, could bring his Demonologist skills up four levels if spread evenly.
He might assign some to his Priest profession, reaching level 2 in order to gain access to Path traits, and then level up Demonologist three levels for optimal short-term rewards.
Or he might reserve some for other Devotion Path abilities such as "Sacred Fire," "Illumination," or "Blessing," which were more difficult to level than "Basic Prayer" but served a greater purpose.
These 38 points might take his Priest all the way to level 5, the best long-term strategy from a cost perspective.
After all, "Demonology Knowledge" leveled consistently with occult texts, "Basic Prayer" developed from twice-daily three-minute prayers, and "Demon Contract" gained power passively from his shadow demon.
Only "Basic Ritual" was problematic, as it was too low-level.
The "Shadow Blade" ritual was too high-level for it to level up to.
Aiwass wasn't bothered to memorize low-level rituals unless they were commonly used or lucrative for "slaughtering pigs" (abusing others).
Hence, Demonologist leveled passively, whereas Priest needed grinding.
Having Priest at the second tier in no time would establish him as "devoted."
Otherwise, how could he level so seamlessly along the Devotion Path?
Your Devotion Path level more than mine? No? Then how can you possibly claim that I'm not a good person?
It was an unbeatable trump card!
He'd turned into a star pupil, earning Theological Faculty funds, moving from "the three-month absent bad student" to "the frail but religious genius."
But 38 points was a little low…
Aiwass's thoughts were racing with new ideas in an instant.
Haina gazed blankly at the body.
Though she'd professed that she'd "killed before," she wasn't as collected as she'd implied.
Before she could ask why Aiwass murdered him, he outmaneuvered, blaming, "Why didn't you aim for the head? He couldn't have stopped you."
"…Huh?"
Haina's thoughts went blank, then she clarified gently, "He was much weaker than me. He appeared incapacitated, so I thought I could take him alive…"
She was correct—her fighting reflexes were sharp.
If this were the end, bringing back the captured Sinful Bartender would seal the case.
But Aiwass couldn't let the Inspectorate question him—what if he snitched on him?
Although the Moriarty family held sway, Aiwass wasn't certain whether outright evidence would secure his conviction as an adopted son.
Therefore, he changed the subject, declaring gravely, "Did you see? When you disclosed your Path, the first thing he did was try to resist, even fight you.
"What does this signify? It signifies that he never intended to yield!"
—*Clearly. A killer with a knife, facing a death sentence on capture, collides with a single inspector. Surrender? At least they'd attempt to flee.*
Aiwass snorted silently.
But his expression never wavered.
He went on, step by step, "You knew he was weaker than you the moment you fought, or even previously.
Didn't he realize that too?
Yet still vibrated from his Path and struck—what does that signify?"
It is that he realized he couldn't outrun you and fought so hard.
Aiwass considered.
"…What does it mean?" Haina hesitated.
She had nothing.
If on a test, she'd have come up with the perfect response with thinking.
But with the dead man's blood still wet on her hands, her heart was a mess.
"Think," Aiwass spun, "he first gave us a warning about pricey dishes to deter us, not wanting to fight with the Inspectorate…"
"I see," Haina nodded.
"But then, I only instructed you to unsheathe your sword, not strike.
But he had the temerity to attack first rather than run away or talk his way out.
Why?"
"…So, he has an expensive ability he cannot afford to use frequently but is extremely powerful?"
Haina hazarded a guess.
Aiwass nodded in appreciation.
"Precisely."
You're not wrong.
Her logic stood—Ademar's desperation was partly due to holding a trump card.
The Sinful Bartender's work was the Transcendence Path's "Demonkin.
When severely hurt, he would recover half his maximum health, becoming an all-stats-boosted, blood-draining demonic form.
But Haina did too much damage, killing him before he could shift.
Applying accurate data but faulty reasoning, she came to a valid conclusion.
Nobody would notice the problem—even if she returned the body, the judgment would be "Aiwass's judgment was right."
"…I see!" Haina said, confident.
"Thank you, Aiwass! You saved me!"
Aiwass nodded serenely.
"So, never show mercy with ruthless criminals. You wished for a live catch; he didn't."
See, she's thanking me.
"Now what?" Haina asked, now also accustomed to going along with Aiwass.
"Take the body back and pack up?"
"No hurry."
Aiwass readjusted his cloak, saying calmly, "He's not the mastermind.
"The real one is in the bar's cellar. She's been listening for a while.".
No need to attack her in person—pour alcohol through the door crack and set the place on fire."
"…Isn't that a tad too cruel? What if she comes out?"
"Then you handle her."
With repeated demonstration of Aiwass's correctness, Haina no longer automatically questioned him.
She held her sword drawn, impatiently gazing at the basement.
"…How surprising."
As predicted, a female voice let out from the place Haina gazed at.
She tentatively opened the basement door.
A muscular, tall woman wearing a bright red robe, her skin pale as death, bald head shining.
At least 1.7 meters tall, her left arm was bulging with muscle, her chest thrust forward, purple light dimly shining in her eyes.
Haina clenched her fist, lowering her stance to advance.
But her pupils constricted, and she stiffened.
Purple runes materialized on the woman's right arm, her fingers clenching as if she was holding a ball.
A ghostly spirit wrapped around her fingertips, pale gray-blue fog condensing into an irregular sphere as large as an infant's head.
Apparently cold chilling power throbbed like a heartbeat, its waves of cold gray wind rolling across the floor towards them.
Haina didn't know the spell but recognized its menace.
The woman cradled the charged sphere, not launching it.
A sensible decision.
If she hurled it, Haina could dodge at this distance.
If she aimed at Aiwass, Haina's charge would bury her.
But Haina hesitated to jump in, not knowing what the spell would do.
A close-range strike might turn the battle against her.
She kept a step or two in front of Aiwass, not cutting off his shooting line, and there was a momentary standoff.
"…How did you know I was in the basement?" the bald woman demanded of Aiwass with an expressionless face.
"Did I leave clues somewhere?
"…How did you do it?"
"Experience," Aiwass responded matter-of-factly.
Because this encounter has more than one master.
—*It's deduction once more!*
How does he keep guessing correctly?!
Haina, sitting next to him, experienced an adrenaline rush and amazement.
(End of Chapter)