Chapter 470: Lost Everything Down to His Underwear
Witnessing this earth-shattering spectacle, countless nobles' minds reeled with thunderous buzzing.
Perhaps never in their lifetimes had they imagined witnessing such an explosively devastating punch delivered by a mage.
The First Prince, maintaining his half-kneeling posture mere meters from Viktor, could directly experience that terrifying punch-wind rushing toward him.
That horrific air blast struck like a roaring tiger's savage assault against his face—a bone-deep tremor of pure destructive force.
Fortunately, he wasn't the direct target of this overwhelming power.
Otherwise, he might have been pulverized into dust by that single devastating blow.
Even so, Viktor's raw strength left him utterly bewildered and questioning reality itself.
Was Viktor truly a mage?
Naturally, his confusion wasn't unique.
Even Claudia, positioned nearby, stared intently at Viktor's fist with profound fascination.
She could perceive Viktor's power with far greater clarity than anyone else present.
While others might assume Viktor had simply employed tremendous physical strength to send Leopold flying—
Only Claudia recognized the deeper truth.
Once again, Viktor had effortlessly shattered that mysterious golden defense.
That golden barrier which had somehow deflected her mercury spear—before Viktor, it had crumbled like tissue paper.
Claudia vividly recalled that at the precise moment Viktor threw his punch, she'd detected no magical emanations from him whatsoever.
Demon hunters possessed extraordinary sensitivity to magical energy. Had Viktor employed magic, Claudia would have sensed it instantly.
However, though Viktor hadn't cast spells, Claudia had felt an explosive surge of magical power radiating from his being.
Like a tranquil ocean that instantaneously erupted into violent waves reaching toward the heavens.
Perhaps this very magical surge had enabled him to effortlessly demolish his opponent's defenses.
But where had this magical power originated?
Suddenly, as if struck by revelation—
Claudia's gaze shifted toward Viktor's shoulder.
Focusing upon that crow whose body now emanated gradually intensifying fluorescent blue radiance.
Yet Viktor didn't linger motionlessly.
After sending Leopold flying with his devastating punch, Viktor had already begun walking deliberately toward Leopold's position.
At this moment, countless nobles remained immersed in Viktor's earlier display of power—unable to recover their composure.
When crisp footsteps echoed rhythmically, they seemed to turn their heads in unanimous agreement, casting their gazes toward the sound's source.
Observing Viktor stroll casually before Leopold's prone form, the nobles' eyes widened with mixture of awe and terror.
In this moment, everyone fell so profoundly silent they dared not even breathe audibly.
He simply stood there with casual elegance before Leopold—surrounded by absolute, suffocating silence.
Leopold lay face-upward, limbs powerless, his entire frame utterly limp and broken.
His eyes flickered with hazy confusion while even the golden luminescence that had previously emanated from his body had vanished without trace.
When Viktor positioned himself overhead, as if sensing some ominous presence, Leopold's body trembled involuntarily.
"Cough... cough cough."
This single cough rendered every noble present absolutely dumbfounded.
What?
He was still alive!?
Leopold had indeed survived the devastating assault.
After coughing twice, he tilted his head slightly—his grotesquely twisted features compressed almost entirely to one side of his skull.
Yet while gazing up at Viktor, he still managed a weak, sardonic smile:
"Really... that hurt quite a bit."
"Just for speaking a few uncomfortable truths—was such brutality truly necessary?"
Leopold braced both hands against the shattered wall, struggling to prop up his broken body from the rubble before slowly crawling forth.
Under everyone's horrified observation, he extended both hands, pressed them firmly against his face, and began forcibly realigning his twisted skull back into proper position.
His facial features were casually manipulated back to their original locations with sickening ease.
Every witness stood slack-jawed with disbelief—watching Leopold reshape his face in such an unnaturally grotesque manner sent chills racing down their spines.
Once this disturbing restoration concluded, Leopold raised that perfectly reconstructed handsome visage, regarding Viktor with gentle, mocking amusement:
"Did I perhaps speak incorrectly?"
"Or could it be..."
He suddenly widened his eyes dramatically—intense golden ripples surging beneath his pupils like molten metal.
Golden sand particles swirled like ethereal mist, spinning rapidly within his eye depths while seeming to conjure violent dust storms.
In that instant, the atmosphere surrounding Leopold seemed to crystallize—immersed in deathly, oppressive silence.
He spoke slowly, his words resonating with low, commanding power:
"You're actually just as morally bankrupt as all the rest?"
His declaration thundered like divine judgment throughout the courtyard—yet Viktor, hearing these accusations, displayed absolutely no change in expression.
However, the first to voice indignant protest was Lia.
Her voice rang out with unmistakable displeasure—like an angry challenge hurled from the distance:
"Hey! Who exactly are you calling filthy?"
"You're the one who manipulated a prince into deliberately tearing open dimensional rifts—trying to enslave every southern resident!"
"You're the most disgusting person here!"
Hearing this fierce rebuttal, Leopold narrowed his eyes while turning to observe Lia directly.
However, the golden radiance flowing through his gaze failed to instill the slightest fear within her.
Under normal circumstances, any merchant witnessing his golden pupils would involuntarily experience intimidation—even instinctively lowering their heads to avoid his penetrating stare.
This explained why, when his attention fell upon the assembled nobles, not one dared meet his eyes directly.
How many among the nobility weren't fundamentally merchants at heart?
Even those who'd never engaged in direct commerce shared identical mentalities.
Because nobility inherently possessed mercantile thinking—pursuing value and profit through any means necessary.
This represented the universal trait binding all Imperial aristocrats.
They'd long divided into factions supporting either the First or Second Prince—all seeking to secure greater benefits and elevated status for their respective families.
Yet when Leopold focused upon Lia, she exhibited no such submissive reaction.
Not only did she refuse to lower her gaze—she actually cursed him with brazen defiance.
Suddenly, Leopold recalled previous events.
Not merely now, but earlier when the greed demon had manifested—spreading its corrupting aura throughout the vicinity.
Every noble present had succumbed to its influence.
Only this woman had remained completely unaffected.
Perhaps he needed to fundamentally reassess certain members of humanity.
His golden flowing-sand pupils studied Lia while he murmured thoughtfully:
"Truly... such a pure soul."
"Pure my ass!"
Her fury erupted like torrential downpour—continuously hurling razor-sharp accusations toward Leopold:
"You constantly label us as corrupt—what makes you so damn superior!?"
"I absolutely despise hypocritical, double-standard garbage like you!"
Each successive curse left Leopold completely stunned into silence.
Even the surrounding nobles gradually regained their mental faculties.
That's absolutely right!
Everything that had occurred was Leopold's fault entirely.
The southern rifts hadn't been torn open by these nobles—and the demons hadn't manifested because of this aristocratic assembly.
Yet Leopold persistently proclaimed their moral corruption while deflecting all blame onto them?
What kind of twisted sophistry was this?
Originally, the nobles had maintained profound respect for Leopold precisely because he'd been recognized as head of the Reiser family.
But now that he'd abandoned all pretense—obviously they possessed no obligation to continue respecting him.
Reaching this realization, the nobles unleashed their full rhetorical arsenal—like factional disputes erupting within palace halls, showing absolutely no mercy.
They competed frantically to speak first—terrified that words about to spill from their mouths would be stolen by rival nobles.
"Damn it! We're all supposedly corrupt, but you're the purest soul here, right?"
"Expanding monster rifts was YOUR doing—and now you're playing the innocent victim?"
"You lecture us about morality—have you considered your own heinous actions? You commit atrocities and still claim righteousness?"
"Goddamn it! My son is stationed in the southern military camps—if anything happens to him, the Ned family will pursue vendetta against you forever!"
"Count the Harrington family in as well!"
These nobles straightened their spines with renewed dignity—all directing their collective fury toward Leopold.
Noble elegance? Aristocratic bearing? Such pretenses evaporated entirely in this moment.
They erupted like common street rabble—unleashing primitive profanity that had been festering within their souls.
Leopold found himself universally despised—criticized and condemned by every person present.
Perhaps even he hadn't anticipated such unified resistance.
When his intimidating gaze fell upon this assembly, rather than cowering in submission, they responded with even more vicious verbal assault.
Leopold's attention swept the courtyard before finally settling upon the distant First Prince.
The First Prince met his stare directly. Sensing Leopold's focus, Albanie's eyes locked with those golden orbs unflinchingly.
Almost simultaneously, the surrounding nobles fell silent through tacit understanding.
Only the First Prince remained vocal—his low voice resonating with profound authority:
"Uncle... no—Leopold."
"I don't comprehend your ultimate objectives, but this is the Empire."
His gaze remained locked upon Leopold with laser intensity—eyes filled with bottomless disappointment.
"This realm will never become your personal playground for unchecked tyranny."
Leopold appeared genuinely surprised—his eyes widening slightly as if he'd never considered the possibility of human resistance.
Precisely during his moment of shock, an indifferent voice materialized beside his ear:
"The most pathetic aspect is—regardless of how desperately you maintain that fraudulent smile—"
"The arrogance embedded in your very essence will always betray your true nature."
Viktor observed Leopold with clinical detachment. At this moment, Leopold pivoted to face him directly.
Brilliant golden eyes met Viktor's unwavering gaze as Viktor's words continued:
"Am I correct, President of Casidra Trading Association—Leopold Nandena?"
Suddenly, Leopold's eyes widened with genuine surprise.
As if comprehending some hidden truth, he smiled with bitter resignation:
"I understand now... because you've discovered my true identity—learned I'm not Imperial-born—that's why you all..."
Before his explanation concluded, Viktor's voice interrupted with surgical precision.
"Perhaps that name doesn't suit your authentic nature. I suspect you find it... inadequate."
The instant these words fell, massive azure flames erupted behind Viktor with explosive force.
Accompanied by profound magical energy, intricate Formation Arrays materialized in overlapping layers.
Within moments, an enormously imposing dragon-head totem manifested at the formation's epicenter.
The colossal dragon appeared to bare razor-sharp fangs—each gleaming tooth erupting with terrifying flames of destruction.
Chaotic blue fire swept through dimensional space—generating scorching heat waves that distorted the surrounding atmosphere.
Viktor raised the bird-headed staff gripped in his left hand—gradually targeting Leopold's skull with methodical precision.
His eyes blazed like twin candles—once again radiating brilliant, otherworldly luminescence.
"So then... Hermes."
"Do you prefer this designation?"
In this moment, Leopold fell completely silent.
The golden sand within his pupils began flowing with deliberate slowness—like sluggish, viscous sand waves gradually building toward catastrophic crescendo.
Chaotic brilliant radiance flickered around his form while divine power transformed into floating golden smoke—rapidly coiling through the air with hypnotic patterns.
Leopold lowered his head, his voice dropping to barely audible whispers:
"You..."
"Wish to know how I discovered the truth?"
The moment his question concluded, terrifying chaotic light-flames exploded skyward with earth-shaking force—blazing azure dragon-fire spiraling upward in magnificent helical patterns.
Nine colossal dragon heads erupted from the layered magical formations—crisscrossing through the heavens while illuminating the pitch-black sky with supernatural radiance.
The brilliant luminescence generated by these nine dragons illuminated every solemn face present—filling the nobles' stunned eyes with flames of ultimate magnificence.
As if determined to tear apart this chaotic, dying world—completely igniting humanity's final spark of rebellious will.
Even the golden radiance within Leopold's eyes became obscured by that brilliant fluorescent azure—his entire being draped in flickering, dazzling luminosity.
"My apologies."
[Fifth-Order Magic: Azure Nine Dragons' Descent]
Instantaneously, countless terrifyingly chaotic azure dragons roared forth with waves of horrific atmospheric pressure—all spiraling through the air before crashing toward earth with apocalyptic violence.
Devastating flames burst forth from the ground itself—fire ascending into the night sky tore reality apart completely, consuming everything within the radiant destruction unleashed by these celestial dragons.
Thunderous dragon roars seemed to erupt from the world's very foundations—seismic tremors that shook every atom of existence.
Beneath the intersecting wave patterns of air currents and flames, the rumbling gradually subsided into ominous silence.
Confronting the roaring heat waves before him, Viktor's arctic voice emerged with final judgment:
Like announcing the ultimate death sentence for the being before him:
"I believe omniscience is within my grasp."
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