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Chapter 265 A Demon's Whisper!

Chapter 265  A Demon's Whisper!

Chapter 265

Was she enraged by his flames?

"Human…" A deep, sinister voice rang in his ears, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. It wasn't just her words—it was the weight behind them, a vibration that reverberated through the air and seemed to dig into his very bones.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a resonance that seemed to echo inside his skull—a grating, malevolent whisper that sent chills down his spine.

The voice was dark and menacing—a true demon's whisper.

A demon's whisper was a heritage inherited by demons of higher bloodline, depending on their affiliation with the seven sins, they could manifest a demon's whisper when their desires are highly amplified, be it from wrath, pride, lust, greed, envy or anything else.

The demon's whisper was a terrifying ability, when used, it could force the opponent to completely surrender to the demon's control and reveal even the darkest of their secrets.

Depending on the demon's bloodline, the demon whispers often had secret efftects too, as per their affiliation to the seven sins.

"Tell me, are you related to the Death Witch?"

As soon as she uttered those words, a wave of goosebumps surged over his skin. It was like a freezing wind had swept through the battlefield, chilling him to the core. It felt like ice water had been poured down his back. His heart skipped a beat, and his body instinctively tensed as if bracing for an attack.

His breathing faltered for the briefest of moments, his chest tightening as her words pierced through him.

He stared at her with wide, trembling pupils. The sensation was overwhelmingly eerie.

Somehow, she had linked him to Ophelia. He couldn't understand how—especially since he had never mentioned her, nor did his current appearance resemble hers. But none of that mattered now.

He knew he had to respond carefully and remain calm. One wrong word, and it could all be over. The manic gleam in her eyes wasn't just threatening—it was unstable. It reminded him of a fragile glass on the edge of a table, a single push away from shattering completely. She teetered on the edge of danger, and he couldn't afford to push her over.

The crazed obsession in her gaze told him all he needed to know—she had some deep fixation on his mother defeating her uncle in the past.

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face, but he made no move to wipe it away. His throat felt dry, but he forced his lips to move. Thanks to the blood of the Mystic Purge Clan, he managed to appear composed and unflustered on the surface, even as his insides churned with anxiety.

Had it not been for the abyss energy protecting him internally from anything harmful, the moment she released the whisper, his mind would have been corrupted.

"No," he said.

But could there be something more corrupted than the Abyss itself?

He didn't stop there. To make his denial more convincing, he countered with a question:

"How do you know about the Death Witch?"

His tone was measured and steady, carrying a faint air of disinterest. But inwardly, his muscles tightened, his instincts screaming at him to prepare for whatever came next.

His voice was calm, steady, almost indifferent, though his entire body felt like it was teetering on the edge of collapse. Every second of silence stretched unbearably long as he watched her for a reaction.

He silently prayed she would believe him and be distracted by the question. It was a simple yet effective conversational tactic he had learned in his past life:

To evade a topic you wanted to avoid, you distract the other party with a question. And to sidestep their question, you simply ask another in return. More often than not, it worked.

He had tested it on several occasions and found success.

As he had hoped, the pressure surrounding him suddenly eased, and the madness in her expression gave way to a colder, calmer demeanor.

Her head tilted slightly, and her glowing eyes narrowed, a glimmer of suspicion lingering in their depths.

The heavy weight pressing on his chest lifted, and he inhaled deeply, trying to disguise the relief in his expression. She wasn't convinced, but she wasn't about to attack—not yet.

"Nothing for you to know about," she replied icily.

Her annoyance simmered as she gazed at the ring of black flames surrounding Oliver. It was proving too troublesome to deal with.

The flames licked at the edges of the battlefield, casting flickering shadows across her face. Despite her annoyance, there was a glint of intrigue in her eyes.

She glanced down at her sharp claws and the new sword, weighing her options.

Her fingers flexed, and the dark energy coating her weapon shimmered faintly as if responding to her thoughts.

She could probably brute-force her way through, but it would consume an unnecessary amount of her espera. She remained cautious, unsure if he had more tricks up his sleeve.

It would be an inefficient way to proceed.

She felt impatient, wondering just how long the human could hold out before he ran out of energy.

Was this his final layer of defense? A futile struggle?

"Just how lon—" She began to question, but stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing as the intensity of the flames suddenly surged.

The fire roared to life, its black tendrils coiling tighter around Oliver like a cocoon before flaring outward in violent bursts.

At the center of the flames, Oliver bent backward, his eyes fixed on the sky above, shining with a mysterious glint.

His movements were slow and deliberate, his head tilting back as though he could see something far beyond the present moment.

His lips curled slightly, and he shouted, "The stars are especially bright tonight, don't you think?"

Sera paused, her gaze instinctively shifting to the sky. Her brow furrowed as her eyes scanned the dense clouds overhead. There were no stars, only a murky void. Stars?

She looked back at him. It was as if he could pierce through the layers of clouds and see beyond.

The smirk on his face sent a flicker of irritation through her—was he mocking her? Or was he truly seeing something she couldn't?

Her eyes narrowed as the pitch-black flames grew denser and more dangerous with each passing second.

Was he finally ready to reveal his trump card?

Anticipation coiled tightly in her chest, a strange mix of excitement and unease.

Sera's eyes gleamed with anticipation. She did not fear the flames erupting around her.

Her body trembled with excitement as dark espera flooded from her form, repelling any flames that dared to approach.

She stared intently at the boy.

Show me, human!

Show me, what are you hiding!

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