Damned Healer

Darian nodded, and his daggers flew back to him. Right after, he used a bit of his white power. The dagger holes in Raon's body healed quickly.

Then, Darian placed his hand on his chest and pulled back the black power he had placed into the group crystal.

'I wasn't sure if I should destroy this thing later or not. But now, this is the perfect time.' He thought, excited.

With his power, he managed to completely cancel out all the effects of that artifact. That meant it definitely wasn't recording anything—it was like unplugging an appliance; without power, it couldn't do a damn thing.

But now, that recording had become incredibly valuable.

Physically, besides the wrinkled, aged skin, Raon had no visible evidence of what had just happened to him.

The Empire would definitely question what went down, but Darian could just say vague, random stuff. All they'd see is Raon charging at him trying to kill him—and then, cut to Raon lying there, dying.

It'd be easy to say Raon messed with some clan artifact and it screwed with the group crystal.

Maybe that action of his attracted this universe's Diabolic Mantle and caused his death? Who knows. Darian had no idea—and no one would ever get an answer. Without proof, they couldn't blame him for anything.

"..."

After that first scream, Raon started thrashing, groaning in agony, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull. The veins in his neck bulged grotesquely while his voice turned into a hoarse hiss. Anyone seeing him like that would be horrified, unable to even imagine what he was going through.