My Wife is a Dead Villainess, and I'm Her Living Weapon

"You are not only lacking in anything resembling class but also are devoid of any brains."

"Big talk for someone who just lost to said brainless person," Elian retorted.

Deeper raised his chin and scoffed. "Tsk. This is why I abhor dealing with low-ranked crucible species." But then he placed his hands on his hips and made an exhaling gesture.

"I guess the legacy dictates that one should educate those who are stupider."

"Look, you arrogant piece of—"

"You became what you are from a potion, did you not? One most probably created by an Alchemist. Considering your overflowing desire to copulate like beasts, the Alchemist would have been the Psychomancer over there," Deeper theorized.

Elian couldn’t help but close his mouth and clench his jaw. His current opponent had an Intelligence stat of S; he already expected him to be smart.

Frankly, he had prepared countermeasures for when Deeper inevitably shifted tactics during his dismantling. But as his opponent remained stupid in combat, Elian expected him to be smart in some other manner.

Being able to guess everything just from fighting them was not unexpected.

Although the bastard is a tree. Maybe he has powers allowing him to eavesdrop on Bianca and me as we talked earlier.

"I don’t think so, Elian. If such a powerful being were listening in on us like a degenerate, especially one whose ego is the size of a moon, we would have noticed."

Elian grew so used to Bianca’s telepathic transmissions that he didn’t even find them bothersome anymore. Her presence in his mind was already something he expected, like a comfortable blanket one didn’t wish to part with.