Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Terrifying Lily

“My gods!” When Aunt Lily swung that terrifyingly massive spiked club in rage, Enzo’s eyes brimmed with jealous bloodlust.

The club, nearly as long as half a man, tore through the air with a shrill howl. As Aunt Lily poured her battle energy into it, nearly a hundred spikes—each as thick as a finger and as long as a thumb—simultaneously spat crimson fire, scattering countless sparks. A three-inch-thick layer of flames enveloped the club, and even from more than ten meters away, Enzo could feel its dreadful heat.

It was a magical weapon! An exceedingly rare magical weapon!

To forge such a weapon, one must gather the rarest magical metals, select attribute-matched magical gemstones, craft the crude weapon with masterful skill, have a master runesmith engrave the corresponding array onto it, then infuse it with a master mage’s magic. Finally, three masters must refine the weapon together, seal the array, stabilize the magic, and activate it with a beast’s magic core of matching element. Only then could a magical weapon be born.

Enzo, for all his years, had never seen a true magical weapon until now!

And this was a fire-attributed one. Fire magic was famed as the most destructive, especially for its unparalleled area-of-effect devastation among all schools of magic. The worth of such a weapon was beyond gold; if a Heaven-ranked knight wielded this spiked club, he could single-handedly suppress three peers of the same rank, perhaps even slay two or more equal foes, or challenge those a rank above.

If Aunt Lily were a Heaven-ranked knight, she could don that Bear Clan’s Fury armor, carry her giant spiked club, and take a stroll through the Victory Palace in the imperial capital. She could stride right in, greet the slumbering Emperor with open cheer, and leave at her leisure before the city’s forces could even muster.

The regular palace guards of the Empire’s Victory Palace would be utterly unable to stop a woman with such brute strength, clad in the Bear Clan’s Fury, and wielding a colossal magical weapon!

“My gods! If Aunt Lily joined the army, she’d be granted a general’s rank on the spot! Just the value of her gear alone is worth that title!” Clutching his chest, Enzo offered his most heartfelt envy and admiration for Aunt Lily’s extravagant equipment.

Lin Qi shrugged, coughed, and shouted toward Aunt Lily, who teetered on the edge of madness, “Dearest Aunt Lily, I’m back! I’m alright, cough, really, I’m fine!”

“Oh gods, lovely gods, you’ve finally returned my young master Lin Qi to me safe and sound!” Aunt Lily, wild with joy, looked at Lin Qi, casually tossing her enormous spiked club aside. The club spun through the air for over twenty meters, sending the nearby servants fleeing in terror, not daring to be struck by such a fearsome weapon.

In the entire ancestral home, only Aunt Lily possessed the brute force to wield that club. Even Blackbeard lacked the strength, and not even her husband—Iron Hammer, who’d just been booted out of the house like a ball by Aunt Lily—could lift it.

“You old hag!” Iron Hammer cursed angrily, clutching his waist.

Aunt Lily was utterly unmoved by Iron Hammer’s curses. She charged toward Lin Qi, her heavy steps like a rampaging mountain, and wrapped him tightly in her arms. “Oh, my dear young master Lin Qi, you mustn’t come to harm. I promised the lady I’d take good care of you! Oh heavens, why do you look so pale? And what’s that smell on you?”

Aunt Lily’s eyes suddenly turned blood-red. She grabbed Lin Qi by the collar and tore it open with a single rip, leaving him exposed before hundreds of male and female servants in the ancestral courtyard. The cold wind howled as Lin Qi, bewildered and red-faced, covered himself with his hands, standing at the grand entrance.

Wounds crisscrossed his body, and although they were treated with ointment and bandaged, fresh blood still seeped from their edges. A terrible murderous aura radiated from Aunt Lily as she slowly turned to face the ashen-faced Bal, asking word by word, “Who hurt my little Lin Qi? Bal, you damned fool, tell your big sister Lily—who cut my young master Lin Qi?”

A Heaven-ranked warrior, commander of tens of thousands of sailors, workers, and local toughs in Durnker Port, and a man of considerable authority in the Black Tiger family—Bal bowed obsequiously, forced a smile, and said, “Most respected sister, for the sake of our long-gone mothers, if I say I don’t know who—”

Aunt Lily shot forward like a gale, so swift that Bal didn’t even see her move. She punched him hard in the face, the four thick spikes of her iron knuckleduster sinking deep, nearly ruining his looks.

Bal was sent flying without so much as a grunt. Luckily, he managed to channel his battle energy in time to protect himself, or Aunt Lily would have knocked his teeth out.

Aunt Lily roared, “Then let me discipline you on behalf of our dearly departed mothers! You—an honorable lower Heaven-ranked knight—couldn’t even protect young master Lin Qi? You useless, incompetent worm! All you do is lead a gang of little thugs to bully honest folk, you coward! You can’t even control your own wife, you spineless fool—I’ll break your legs!”

Bal cast a pleading look toward Iron Hammer, who was lying on the ground pretending to be dead. But Iron Hammer squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, clearly wanting everyone to believe Aunt Lily had already kicked him unconscious.

Bal, face full of misery, looked to Lin Qi for help. But Lin Qi merely stood at the door, stiffly covering himself, his slightly plump body shivering in the cold wind, his mind utterly blank. He’d been seen—completely seen—by all these servants and maids. If they were all men, perhaps it wouldn’t matter, but there were so many young girls and matrons present!

If Lin Qi were fifteen or sixteen, perhaps being seen like this would be of little consequence. But, by the gods, he’d already celebrated his eighteenth birthday—he was a grown man! Yet here he was, exposed before his own ancestral home.

Hundreds of people, cowed by Aunt Lily’s dreadful aura, dared not utter a sound.

Lin Qi blinked. At last, he found the best way to escape this predicament. He rolled his eyes, let out a feeble moan, and, in the languid, delicate fashion of a noble young lady, fainted to the ground.

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