He muttered to himself, disbelief filling his voice: "You’re not just a simple clone... What are you really?"
The clone, Ron, didn’t answer, instead launching another attack.
In an instant, the energy in the air coalesced into a Light Flame Longsword.
—Ring of Brilliance - Sword Form
The clone swung the Light Flame Longsword directly at the fusion of Oliver and Cynthia.
Wherever the sword blade passed, the air emitted a shrill whistle, as if even the airflow was being sliced open.
The fusion released its full power for defense.
Countless tendrils intertwined into an impenetrable net, while a layer of purple-black Energy Shield shimmered on the surface.
But it was all in vain.
The Light Flame Longsword effortlessly cut through all defenses, deeply piercing the core region of the fusion.
A piercing scream echoed across the platform, as the fusion convulsed violently, black liquid gushing from its surface like a ruptured water bag.
The clone, Ron, withdrew the sword, its blade stained with purple-black liquid, but those liquids were quickly evaporated by the flames on the sword.
The fusion of Oliver and Cynthia had lost most of its combat capability, curling into a corner.
A large amount of black liquid flowed from the wound, forming a strange pool on the ground.
"Truly disappointing."
The clone, Ron, said softly, his voice devoid of any emotion:
"I thought you were some promising Awakened, but it turns out to be just like this. It seems the Eye of the Abyss’s plan has failed once again."
Oliver lifted his head, despair and unwillingness filling his eyes: "You... What exactly are you..."
"I told you long ago." The clone smiled, a cold and ruthless smile: "I’m just a clone of Ron from the Bloodline Altar."
"Lies!" Oliver gritted his teeth, his voice twisted with pain:
"No clone could possess such immense power and clear self-awareness... nor could any clone withstand the Death Stare..."
"Perhaps I’m just stronger than you imagined?"
The clone chuckled lightly, stepping forward to deliver the final blow: "Or maybe you all are just too weak."
This statement cut into Oliver’s pride like a sharp knife.
His face grew paler, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed.
"No... impossible... We’ve Awakened... We’ve absorbed so much power... According to Mr. Holy Disc, we should have..."
"Mr. Holy Disc?" A hint of curiosity flashed in the clone’s eyes: "Who is he?"
Oliver was silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating whether to answer this question.
"It doesn’t matter anymore." Cynthia suddenly interjected, her voice exceptionally calm, in stark contrast to their current situation:
"After all, we’re all going to die, aren’t we?"
A near-released expression appeared on her face:
"We always knew the risks of this path, Oliver. We chose to pursue power, and we must be prepared to bear all the consequences."
"But... we could have..."
Oliver’s voice filled with pain and struggle: "If only Ron hadn’t appeared..."
"No, it wasn’t that kid’s fault." Cynthia said softly:
"We chose this path ourselves. I don’t regret it, truly. I’ve experienced enough pleasure, felt power beyond my limits, and that’s enough."
Gentleness appeared in her eyes as she turned to the closely bound Oliver:
"At least in the end, we are one, isn’t that wonderful?"
Looking at Cynthia, the anger in Oliver’s eyes gradually faded, replaced by complete acceptance:
"You’ve always been like this, Cynthia... No matter when, you only ever think about those things."
He gave a bitter smile, with a touch of helplessness in his voice:
"You’re right, compared to those who lead meaningless lives, at least we’ve tried many things."
When a person is about to die, their words are kind...
The clone watched this scene silently, a barely perceptible disturbance flashing in his eyes.
But that disturbance quickly vanished, replaced by endless coldness: "Let’s end this early then."
Eliot quietly observed from the side, naturally feeling no sympathy for Oliver and Cynthia.
Seeing the clone Ron prepare to act, he nearly applauded.
Just as the clone prepared to deliver the final blow, Oliver suddenly raised his head, a strange light flashing in his eyes:
"Wait... Before you act, I want to tell you something about ’Mr. Holy Disc.’
The clone paused, somewhat curious: "What is it?"
"I suspect he’s my Master... The Master of the Curse Element."
Oliver’s voice had grown weak, yet remained clear:
"He’s always had a special interest in Ron... Saying that Ron possesses some kind of ’trait’... I believe, with Ron’s development, he will inevitably catch his attention..."
The clone frowned: "I’m not Ron, what use is it to tell me this?"
Oliver sneered, a playful glint in his eyes:
"I guess you’ll eventually be defeated by Ron himself, and become part of him... So telling you is like telling him, isn’t it?"
This statement seemed to touch a sensitive nerve in the clone, and his expression instantly turned grim: "Aren’t you overestimating him."
"Am I?" For a moment, Oliver found that his own defeat didn’t seem so hard to accept:
"Why then can I sense your fear of him? Like a prey fearing a predator..."
Anger flashed in the clone’s eyes, and he drove the Light Flame Longsword fiercely into Oliver’s throat, cutting off his words.
Oliver’s eyes widened, but a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if saying: "I was right, wasn’t I?"
The next moment, the fusion began to disintegrate, like a sand sculpture being washed away by waves, layer by layer eroding away.