796 “Duel”

796 “Duel”

In response to Albus’s question, Lumian let out a soft laugh and muttered to himself, This guy seems pretty sharp…

No idea when he was exiled to Morora, but this must be his first time eating here…

Did he come here because he noticed some people in Morora behaving strangely after eating at this bar?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Lumian slapped the bar counter.

He jumped off the stool and coldly said to the bartender, whose expression had remained grim.

“Serving this kind of meat as steak to me? Get your boss out here!”

The bartender was taken aback. “Are you certain?”

He wasn’t embarrassed or angry at Lumian’s attitude; instead, there seemed to be a slight hint of pleasant surprise.

Lumian didn’t answer but conveyed with his eyes that he wanted the boss to hurry up and come out.

The bartender immediately shouted, “Boss! Boss! Someone’s about to wreck your bar!”

Within seconds, a figure rushed out from the kitchen.

The figure had messy, fluffy hair and a very fat face, layered with flesh that made his eyes appear small, yet his body was quite standard, showing no sign of obesity.

At this moment, he was wearing a white apron and holding a cleaver, glaring angrily at the two customers near the bar, shouting in Lenburg, “Who? Who’s going to wreck my bar?”

Lumian pointed at the steak on the white porcelain plate and sneered, “You think I can’t tell what kind of meat this is?”

“If I say it’s steak, it’s steak,” the fat-faced boss retorted without backing down.

Lumian didn’t argue further. He took out a black glove from the Traveler’s Bag and tossed it in front of him.

“I challenge you to a duel,” Lumian said calmly.

Throwing down a glove was a customary way to issue a duel challenge in Intis.

The boss glanced at the black glove on the ground, his layers of fat shifting to reveal a light yellow beard.

He was laughing.

He responded to Lumian’s challenge, “Okay.”

As soon as he spoke, he raised the cleaver and swung it down at Lumian.

Lumian sidestepped the blow, but suddenly felt he couldn’t use his teleportation ability.

The contract ability from the Abscessed Hand seemed to be stripped away by some strange power!

Lumian recalled Ludwig’s description of the Sequence 5 Depriver of the Gourmet pathway and suspected this boss-cum-chef was a blessed one of this pathway.

No wonder he can make Hand Bro’s rotten flesh look and smell like real steak…

A bestowed not executed but exiled to Morora?

Stop dumping all the trash in Morora…

Is it because they fear Morora’s population decline, risking the seal on 0-01?

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Lumian swung his shoulder, his arm swelling, and punched out with his right fist.

His fist burst into bright, blazing-white flames, like a peacock’s tail, heading straight for the bartender.

Boom!

As his fist struck the side of the heavy cleaver, a violent explosion occurred.

The blazing-white light lit up the entire bar, the violent blast overturning nearby stools and throwing the fat-faced boss away.

Albus reacted quickly, jumping off his stool and perching on the bar counter far from the blast area.

He pulled one foot up, resting it on the bar, watching Lumian’s duel with interest.

The bartender was also caught in the blast, thrown against the liquor shelf, doused in the fragrant liquid from shattered bottles.

He was nearly set on fire.

The bar owner, who took the brunt of the explosion, had his chest clothes torn, revealing blood, charred flesh, and white bones.

His face had similar wounds, but the layers of fat kept it from affecting his skull.

The wounds were writhing and healing rapidly in an unnatural, inhuman way, as if they would soon be completely healed.

This isn’t a power or trait typical of a Depriver. None of the middle or low Sequences in the Gourmet pathway have this ability. Did he gain this from a special kind of food as a Chef? It’s similar to how Hand Bro’s rotten flesh can regenerate after being eaten… Lumian retreated a few steps from the bar owner, putting distance between them.

As he noticed the other party’s peculiarity, he also realized he had lost another ability-Spell of Harrumph.

Can a Depriver sense which of my abilities and traits are most dangerous to them? Even if they don’t know exactly what those abilities and traits are, can they still deprive me of them based on the level of danger they pose? Lumian calmly formed a massive, blazing-white fireball and shot it at the bar owner.

The bar owner didn’t dodge. He raised his nearly shattered cleaver and slashed at the blazing-white fireball.

The fireball split in two, losing its momentum and destructive aura. The bar owner opened his mouth wide and sucked it in like a whale swallowing water, remaining unharmed.

At that moment, Lumian laughed.

More blazing-white fireballs rapidly formed around him, whistling through the air toward the bar owner.

Behind him, blazing-white fire crows appeared one after another, flying in wide arcs to flank the bar owner.

Lumian wanted to see how many fireballs the Depriver could handle and if he could eat them all without getting overwhelmed.

The bar owner’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately spewed the blazing-white flames from his stomach, transforming them into a torrent to meet the incoming fireballs.

Seeing this, Albus flipped over the bar counter.

Rumble!

The fireballs exploded one after another upon contact with the flames.

The counter was flattened, the liquor shelves collapsed silently, and the mixed liquor burned in a fierce blaze.

The bartender, who had escaped to Albus’s position, felt very fortunate he had reacted in time.

Other patrons either shrank to the edges of the room or escaped the hall, showing a wealth of experience.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! The blazing-white Fire Ravens, which had deliberately avoided the front, fell on the bar owner’s back one after another.

By then, the bar owner was covered in a semi-transparent crimson glow, like solidified moonlight.

Rumble!

Despite the explosions and flames from the Fire Ravens, the bar owner’s crimson glow didn’t dim. Instead, it brightened with the fire’s reflection.

When the flames finally subsided, the bar owner returned to his normal appearance. He lifted his cleaver and looked at where Lumian had been standing.

No one was there.

Lumian was nowhere to be seen in the hall either.

The bar owner was momentarily stunned.

Almost simultaneously, a figure emerged from his shadow.

Lumian, his eyes iron-black, struck the bar owner’s crotch with his blazing-white flame-covered right fist.

Amid the rumbling, Lumian’s fist hit its mark, penetrating the Depriver’s intestines with blazing-white flames.

Standing up straight, Lumian lifted the bar owner, letting the flames surge into his stomach.

Then, Lumian withdrew his right fist and threw the bar owner to the ground.

With a thud, the bar owner’s crotch split open, intestines spilling out, and his stomach, though intact, was scorched and oozing yellow-green fluid.

Lumian looked at the bar owner’s pained, shrunken eyes and mocked, “Did you turn your brain into food too? You blocked one round of attacks, then stayed in the same spot without moving. Did you not consider that I might use your shadow?”

The bar owner’s face twisted as he murmured, “Turning… my own… brain into… food… Is it possible?”

His voice faded, and he died, lying motionless on the ground.

Lumian stared at the Depriver’s corpse, not thinking about his opponent’s response, but noting something unusual about the battle.

Deprivers sure have a variety of abilities. Though each one is basic and crude, their combat applications are quite formidable…

If this guy hadn’t reacted so sluggishly after I vanished, I wouldn’t have attacked his weak spot so easily. I might have needed to use one of the mystical items from the Traveler’s Bag…

In comparison, Worms the Marauder didn’t have this problem…

As he thought, Lumian shook his hand, revealing painful corrosive wounds caused by the stomach acid of the bar owner when he delivered the strike at his stomach.

His hand had been protected by the blazing-white flames at the time.

Despite knowing he couldn’t prevent the bar owner’s boons from returning to their source, Lumian squatted down, pulled a plain sword from the Traveler’s Bag, and used his flames to separate the stomach from the corpse.

He planned to ask Ludwig if this could be made into a dish with special effects or if it could be used as a unique material by an Artisan.

Finished with this task, Lumian stood and asked the bartender, who had just emerged from hiding and was severely injured, “How many years has your boss been exiled in Morora?”

“Five or six years, I think,” the bartender answered with an uncertain look.

Five or six years… That thief looked younger, probably only exiled for a year or two… The longer one stays in Morora, the more likely they are to show symptoms of experimental personnel-symptoms of 0-01 corruption. No, the sealing information didn’t mention this, and it doesn’t happen in Trier… Did the bar owner do something in Morora that caused him to start turning into an experimental subject? Lumian pondered as he looked around and smiled. “Don’t take my spoils.”

He referred to the bar owner’s money.

Lumian then walked towards the corridor beside the bar.

Based on the origin of the “steak” and the Chef’s position, he suspected the Abscessed Hand’s body part was in the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, he saw a half-decayed, swollen, blue-black corpse openly displayed on the cooking counter.

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