“But I… I…” Xiao Xiao hesitated and fell silent again.

For how hard Helial tried to deny this, the world is full of people who won’t be able to sacrifice everything to gain more strength. Xiao Xiao just didn’t want to grow stronger. He only wished for a simple life, a job as an artisan, some hours to play with his peers and a loaf of bread to bite every day.

Given the environment Xiao Xiao lived in, he was supposed to be more mature than the average. The young Goblin’s thinking though was still naïve. Unlike Helial, his tough childhood didn’t instill in Xiao Xiao any thirst for power.

Helial shook his head as he poured a spoonful of stew in a bowl. To him, this was inconceivable.

Suddenly, Helial sensed an incoming deadly Aura and unconsciously shuddered. Helial’s Aura was imbued with both Life and Destruction; the mere fact that someone could strike such instinctive terror into his heart was astounding.

The guy had just offered the bowl full of stew to Xiao Xiao, when he felt something icy grip his shoulder. He knew perfectly well what that might be, so he shut up and nodded that Xiao Xiao took his food. The Goblin hesitated then made a dash for the bowl. He hastily began to empty it before the Human could get a cold feet and ask for it back.

With the sound of clinking cutlery, Pseudonym had bent down on a knee next to Helial. His grip on the guy’s shoulder tightened. He channeled all his Aura through his arm. An unbearable pressure weighed upon Helial. Now he couldn’t even talk.

Xiao Xiao stopped eating, terrified by the scene. Helial struggled to flash him of a smile.

“This world isn’t home to the strong only. Some people are strong. Some aren’t. There is nothing wrong in weakness, brat,” Pseudonym said in utter disdain.

Under the pressure of the black knight, Helial couldn’t answer. The pressure was so suffocating that a bloody rivulet appeared on one corner of Helial’s mouth. He couldn’t even cough; any attempt at a reply would be a failure.

A beam flashed through the guy’s mind as he let his voice echo out inside his Soul: “If Pseudonym was in my same level, who’d be the strongest between the two of us, Master?” Helial asked. Honestly, Pseudonym’s behavior was getting on his nerves. Now even breathing was getting difficult. Their discrepancy in strength really was irritating.

Iblis carefully examined the scene from within, yet not as carefully as he was peeling his carrots. The smell from his stove suggested that Helial wasn’t the only one having stew for dinner.

Tac Tac Tac

The knife hit on the cutting board as little pieces of carrot flew into a frying pan filled with oil.

“Probably him,” Iblis finally sneered before forcefully removing Helial’s conscience from that place.

Tac Tac Ta-

Iblis stopped cutting carrots and pondered.

“There’s something unusual in Pseudonym’s Aura. This isn’t the first time I try to scan it out, but his level is difficult to examine for me too. His body seems to conceal something that will let him become outstandingly strong soon enough. But I didn’t lie to Shithead; if Pseudonym rushed back at level 85, he would still defeat him easily. However, somehow I think Shithead would have one outside chance of winning too.”

Helial’s conscience was removed from his Soul, so the guy couldn’t hear any of this and had to listen to Pseudonym instead.

“When someone strong tries to impose his injustice over the weak, it doesn’t matter whether you’re good or evil. What does matter,” Pseudonym said solemnly as he clutched his grip on Helial even more firmly, “what does matter is to defend those who need defence and slaughter those who caused harm.

Whoever lays a finger on Xiao Xiao will die by my hand!” Pseudonym yelled. He used Mana to amplify his voice. That threaten would serve as a deterrent for those in the crowd who had bad intentions towards Xiao Xiao. Also, Pseudonym aimed to let every kid in Suburra know that no one could harm people and still go unpunished by him.

Willing or not, those poor people must acknowledge that good and evil depended on the stronger. On this Helial had a point; power gives your freedom. Though, who manages like power will master like freedom; this was Pseudonym’s belief.

Well well, these two are at each other’s throat, remarked to herself a hooded figure gazing at the scene in silence. Her presence was hidden by the night. Her curves betrayed her sex just like the jade complexion betrayed her noble origins. Her eyes were filled with utter melancholy.

She would have never believed that Pseudonym and Helial would get as far as this; the Champion was nailing Helial down to prevent him from doing something that he thought could harm someone.

A pale moon ray escaped the clouds and shed its light upon the face of the hooded figure. The moonlight revealed her flawless green skin, a slightly disproportionate nose and a long braid of shiny hair.

There stood one of the talents amongst the younger generation, though not the greatest, in the same clothes she was wearing at the banquet.

Francesca.

Caesar’s daughter was gazing at them from afar, her hands crossed on her breast. Meanwhile, Pseudonym was speaking words of hope.

“I will protect whoever doesn’t deserve to suffer. The Orman law may not apply here in Suburra, but my justice does. And you have my word; justice is not dead!”

A strange smile spread over the tiny face of Francesca, who knew Pseudonym better than anyone else there. The corners of her lips though didn’t betray the warmth of a true lovely smile.