MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 423: Riddle-2

As Anthony's voice resonated through the air, all the churning thoughts within the demons came to an abrupt halt.

No longer did they click their tongues in frustration.

This time, their faces twisted into clear frowns, the weight of his answer sinking in.

Killing intent flared in their eyes, sharp and venomous.

Yet Anthony did not flinch.

He stood unmoved, exuding a detached calm, as though the growing animosity around him held no sway.

"You've amazed me once again"

The Executioner said, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on Anthony with a mix of amusement and mild disbelief.

"Are my riddles truly that simple, or is it that you're simply too sharp?"

He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving Anthony.

It had taken Anthony one second less to answer the second riddle, a riddle that had been designed to be more difficult.

The Executioner had been prepared for a longer pause, for them to struggle, perhaps even fail, yet Anthony's rapid-fire responses had shattered his expectations.

A flicker of a smirk briefly tugged at the corners of the Executioner's lips, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual calm, harmless smile.

Everyone understood the Executioner's words without needing them to be spelled out. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Anthony had been right once again.

Before the Executioner could even inquire about the reasoning behind his answer, Anthony spoke, his tone calm and confident as always.

"As usual, from the first line, 'First breath was your last': A memory is born at the conclusion of an event. From the second line, 'Final cry, my echo cast': A memory echoes the emotions and moments of the past. From the third line, 'I follow always, yet I lead': Memories follow experiences, yet they shape the choices we make in the future. And finally, 'Born in silence, I plant a seed': Memories often form in quiet reflection, and in doing so, they plant the seeds of future actions"

His words hung in the air, and as the group absorbed his reasoning, a quiet understanding spread among them.

"Captain, aren't you a little too good at this?"

Reynold asked, his voice filled with admiration and a hint of disbelief.

He couldn't imagine arriving at such an answer, even if given an entire year.

Anthony shook his head at Reynold's words, his expression unchanged.

"It's not that I'm too good"

He replied calmly.

"It's just that you all are missing the key"

"Missing the key?"

Dale echoed, clearly puzzled.

"The key lies in the simplicity of the riddle"

Anthony explained, his tone steady.

"You don't have to overthink it. You just need to take it at face value. Once you do that, your mind will naturally do the rest"

He stood there, his posture unaffected, his hands still behind his back, as though the riddle were just another passing thought.

The Executioner fixed his gaze on Anthony, a smile slowly spreading across his face with every word Anthony spoke.

"It's as if you've grown sharper after answering the first riddle"

The Executioner said, his tone calm but laced with genuine admiration.

"I'm truly envious of your mind"

What Anthony had said resonated with him deeply.

The simplicity of the riddle had indeed been the key, the very element that most people overlooked.

The problem, however, was that many tended to complicate things unnecessarily.

They would twist the riddle, adding layers where there were none, making it far more convoluted than it needed to be.

And this, was one of the downsides of being overly intelligent: the tendency to overanalyze, to search for complexity in something that was, at its core, simple.

The Executioner's gaze shifted to the demons, their killing intent already seeping out from their bodies, a thick aura of frustration and rage.

"That's Two points for them"

He continued, his voice laced with teasing amusement.

"At this rate, you might not even get a single riddle right, let alone claim the Severed Crown Of Echoes"

The words hung in the air, a subtle taunt that seemed to relish their growing frustration.

Normally, demons would never tolerate such rules, especially one as seemingly trivial as no fighting on this floor.

They were demons, after all.

Rules were meant to be broken.

But the Executioner's smile remained, as if he knew that the very nature of his challenge was testing more than just their intellect.

The demons, despite their simmering anger, knew deep down that the man before them was far stronger than they could ever hope to be.

Any attempt to challenge him, to defy the rules, would be crushed with a single, effortless strike.

"They're definitely cheating"

One of the demons growled, his tone thick with barely-contained rage.

"I refuse to believe they could answer those riddles so easily"

The Executioner's smile only widened at the accusation.

"Oh?"

He replied, his voice light, but there was an edge to it, a dangerous playfulness lurking beneath the surface.

"Are you suggesting that I'm favoring them?"

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, yet his calm demeanor never wavered.

He remained composed, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

Before the demon could utter another word, a sudden force seized control of his body.

His limbs stiffened as if bound by an invisible chain, and for a brief moment, he could only watch in horror as his claws extended, sharp and menacing.

Without any hesitation, they shot upwards, tearing through the air as they drove straight toward his chest.

He felt the sharp sting of his own claws as they pierced his skin, rending it open with brutal force.

Blood spurted from the wound, but the demon couldn't scream.

His throat was frozen, as if the very essence of his being had been stilled.

Desperate, he tried to control his other hand, to stop the relentless attack, but it was no use.

His second hand refused to obey his desperate commands.

It, too, moved with a life of its own, joining in the self-inflicted torment.

He was completely powerless.

He had lost control over his own body.

The demon's eyes were wide with fear and panic.

His pupils dilated as they screamed in silent desperation, the terror of losing control consuming him.

Tears welled in his eyes, streaking down his face as his claws continued to sink deeper into his own chest.

Black blood pooled beneath him, the dark substance splattering across the floor as his claws raked further into his flesh.

But even as his body writhed in torment, his movements didn't falter.

A deep sense of dread hung in the air.

In an instant, Anthony and his team, along with the rest of the demons, vanished from their spots, reappearing kilometers away.

Weapons were drawn in a flash, each one pulsing with mana, Spiritual Energy, and chaos.

For a brief, fleeting moment, it seemed as though Anthony and his team were ready to join forces with the demons, united in their intent to bring down the Executioner.

The Executioner remained unmoved, his smile unshaken, his gaze never leaving the spectacle unfolding before him.

The demon's hand, driven by forces beyond his control, sank deeper into his own chest.

His claws, slick with black blood, pierced through the flesh until his hand grasped the demon's own heart.

The steady, rhythmic thud of the heart echoed in the minds of everyone present, each beat reverberating through the air as if mocking the demon's futile struggle.

The demon's mouth opened, and with trembling hands, he brought the heart closer to his lips.

His teeth sank into the organ with a sickening squish, the sound ringing out like a death knell.

Tears flowed freely from his eyes, staining his face with sorrow, but despite the agony, his body continued to move, as if driven by some unstoppable force.

In one horrifying motion, the demon tore into his own heart and devoured it.

The sickening crunch of the heart's tissue reverberated in the silence, and within moments, the heart was consumed, swallowed whole.

Yet, even after the unthinkable act, he did not collapse.

He did not fall to death.

A violent, convulsing churn rippled through the demon's body.

His organs twisted and writhed within him as if something malevolent had taken hold.

Then, with a sickening rupture, his insides violently exploded outward.

His stomach tore open, spilling his innards and black blood across the earth in a grotesque splash.

The air was thick with the stench of death as his organs hovered momentarily, suspended in the chaotic, unsettling silence.

The light in his eyes flickered, fading, as the last vestige of life left his body.

With an air-shattering thud, his mutilated corpse collapsed onto the ground.

His body hit the cold earth, landing in a pool of his own blood and shredded insides.

The grotesque scene left nothing behind but the echoes of his final, tragic struggle.