God Level Farmer In Another World

Chapter 115: You Are Not My Master!

"Cough… cough…"

Welma struggled to stand, her tall frame swaying as she climbed out of the ravine.

Her clothes were dusty, looking somewhat disheveled.

Welma's blue pupils glowed softly, like a rare, blooming blue orchid:

"For so long, I never realized there was someone like you in Bluewater City. You're very powerful.

If only you had told me this from the start.

I am just a woman, trying to survive—I wouldn't have risked becoming your enemy.

What does it matter where I serve as director? Jonathan would have cleared any obstacles for me."

The pale moonlight cast a ghostly glow on her skin, making it appear almost ashen.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes glistening with a hint of moisture:

"If that were the case, I wouldn't have targeted Ethan, and my foolish brother wouldn't have died."

Welma looked Alexander in the eyes again, two crystalline tears sliding down her cheeks:

"You ruined me."

What hurt Welma the most wasn't the humiliation, as though she were treated like a mere dog.

Her greatest despair came from the fact that her tormentor was the very person who murdered her brother.

And she couldn't even resist Willard.

In truth, it was from the day she met Alexander that the gears of fate began to turn.

Alexander remained silent, raising his left hand.

The Heavenly Flame of Creation formed a massive hand, rising high.

Alexander made a slapping motion.

The giant white flame hand came crashing down, the intense heat warping the air.

Welma quickly formed seals with her hands, conjuring a snowflake that expanded instantly.

The giant flame hand collided with the massive snowflake, waves of cold and heat rippling through the air in a chaotic dance.

Alexander's left hand held the slapping motion while his right hand clenched into a fist and struck forward.

Another flaming hand appeared, pulling back in a wide arc.

Then, that white flame fist barreled toward Welma like a burning locomotive!

Welma's eyes widened in shock as she bit her tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the snowflake before her.

The snowflake emitted an eerie blue glow.

Suddenly, a ten-zhang pillar of blue light engulfed Welma.

"Roar!"

From within the blue light, a fierce roar sounded, somewhere between a dragon and a tiger.

The light gradually took shape, forming a ten-zhang white python, with Welma's upper body visible atop its head.

Her lower body was embedded in the giant python's head.

From afar, Welma appeared like some monstrous figure.

A creature with a human head and a serpent's body.

Welma raised her head and screamed at the sky:

"Your mead ruined me!"

This was her ultimate trump card.

By burning her lifespan, she could synchronize with her abilities to unleash power rivaling that of an S-rank!

The white flames around Alexander surged again, forming the upper body of a massive flame giant.

Two giant hands of white fire pressed against the ground as the giant's lower body began to form, as though it were pushing itself up to stand.

Welma could feel the terrifying power emanating from Alexander, yet her gaze, filled with venomous hatred, held not a trace of fear.

All she wanted was to tear a piece of flesh from Alexander's body!

In the old town district…

Three mercenaries lay on the ground, their fate uncertain.

The remaining mercenaries were all injured to varying degrees.

"Get away from me! I am a mage, I possess great destiny! I won't die!"

"Stay back! All of you, stay back!"

"I can't die! I still need to practice! I haven't even built my foundation!"

Willard roared like a madman.

This was the second time he had tasted the fear of death.

Each of these twelve mercenaries was intent on taking his life!

His spiritual power was nearly depleted. Desperately, Willard flailed his Blue Silver Grass, terrified of anyone getting any closer.

He was like a cornered beast.

The nine remaining mercenaries had no choice but to retreat for now.

"Hahaha! Scared, aren't you?!"

"Eternal Foundation Method!"

"Merlin's Everlasting Art!"

"You dare kill me? Killing me is like defying the heavens!"

Overextending his spiritual power caused excruciating pain in Willard's mind, blurring his sanity.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto the nearest mercenary, his voice hoarse:

"Don't push me to fall into the path of darkness! I'll kill every one of you! Spider Web Bind!"

By sheer force of will, Willard unleashed his third soul skill!

The mercenary's face contorted in fear; he knew that falling into Willard's trap meant certain death!

"So this is the Mercenary Guild's 'low-level' team mission? I'm going to die!"

Just as he resigned himself to his fate, a figure suddenly appeared in his line of sight—a woman with a black dog mask, seductive red lips, and a form-fitting leather outfit.

"Lady Hound!"

The mercenary cried out in relief, feeling a sliver of hope.

Among the new recruits, Lady Hound was often revered as a leader.

If the Mercenary Guild's leader herself was here, there was no way he would die!

Lady Hound executed a side kick, her powerful leg swinging straight into Willard's head.

Willard staggered, turning around to see who had struck him.

But when he looked back, he saw nothing. Then, from his other side, he heard the whistle of something cutting through the air.

Turning again, he found a black high-heeled shoe rushing toward him, magnified in his vision.

"Ahhhhh!"

The kick connected with his face, the sharp heel blinding one of his eyes as warm blood spurted out.

He crouched, clutching his injured eye and screaming in agony:

"No! How dare you destroy my sight! How will I ever master my eye technique?"

Lady Hound gazed down at him indifferently, raising her foot for another strike.

Willard struggled, grabbing her foot with his hands.

Lady Hound's eyes flashed with surprise.

How does he still have this much strength?

Blood oozed from the empty socket of Willard's left eye, giving him a hideous appearance.

Pushing her foot away, he staggered to his feet, gritting his teeth:

"My master told me I am blessed with great fortune, that I cannot die!

He said if anything ever happened to me, he would avenge me!

My master said I would ascend to the pinnacle!

So, I can't die today!"

This fierce determination gave him unyielding resolve, and a renewed surge of spiritual energy burst forth from him.

Lady Hound narrowed her eyes.

"Is he about to advance to the fifth level of spirituality?"

She couldn't allow Willard to reach the fifth level—it would make him far harder to handle.

With three mercenaries already severely injured, she couldn't afford more casualties.

Lady Hound gritted her teeth, preparing to strike when a mercenary stepped forward from behind her.

Willard's Blue Silver Grass whipped toward the figure.

The mercenary slowly removed his mask, revealing a kind, elderly face.

Willard froze, his Blue Silver Grass halting before the familiar face.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing:

"M-Master?"

The old mercenary was none other than Merlin.

Merlin nodded with a gentle smile:

"Disciple, you're injured."

Willard's hands fell limply to his sides as he asked in confusion:

"Master, what… what's going on?

Weren't you in seclusion?"

Merlin shook his head:

"Foolish disciple, reaching the pinnacle is a lie, and so is seclusion."

Willard's lips curled into a grin, and he let out a mocking laugh:

"Hahaha, pathetic! You're not my master!

You're a shapeshifter! Ascending to the pinnacle is a lie?

Don't you know I've consumed immortal herbs?"

For a brief moment, he forgot the pain in his eye; it no longer seemed to hurt.

Merlin looked at Willard with a sorrowful gaze, an expression that made Willard tremble from deep within.

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