Super Righteous Player
Chapter 1018 - 76: I Am His Accomplice

Chapter 1018: Chapter 76: I Am His Accomplice

"Why do you have to go to this extent?"

Salvatore’s gaze lowered.

His voice seemed somewhat choked up, "Even so... I will stick to the path you have tread, Teacher."

Within the raging sea of flames, Salvatore felt an invisible force clutching at his heart, and his nose slightly sour.

He deeply felt his own helplessness.

In that moment, he felt as if he were back in his childhood.

He stood in front of his grandfather’s sickbed, helplessly watching as his grandfather slowly died, yet unable to do anything.

He had no way to ease his grandfather’s pain, nor did he have a method to cure his illness. All he could do was diligently wipe his grandfather’s sweat with a wet towel; beyond that, all he could do was keep company.

Silently watching death come, not hiding, not running.

Just quietly watching, as the fire of life gradually extinguished...

It was not like being attacked or being killed by someone, where "life" and "death" suddenly transitioned.

Death was like layers of light veils floating down from above, gradually enveloping a person. You wouldn’t know when the body had already turned into a cold, hollow chrysalis.

Salvatore did not even know the exact time his grandfather died—his grandfather was almost unconscious by morning. But he had not yet passed away.

Even his own fingers, cold from constant contact with water, couldn’t perceive when his grandfather’s body had started to cool.

In the end, it was only when the sun set, and the dim twilight lit up his grandfather’s bloodless face, that he belatedly realized... his grandfather had already passed away.

At that time, Salvatore was not even ten years old, he did not yet understand what death truly meant.

But he deeply remembered that feeling of helplessness in the face of another’s pain.

This was precisely the initial motivation that drove Salvatore onto the path of a wizard.

"If I just watch you die like this, doing nothing... it would go against my innermost desires. I think it would definitely hinder me when I advance to the Gold tier... You wouldn’t want that either, would you?"

Salvatore said softly, "So, can you tell me? I just want to know—why must you go to this extent?"

Even if it’s still death.

However, having one’s soul ignited, body cracking under high temperatures, with flames bursting through the cracks... and dying peacefully surrounded by others are entirely different scenarios.

—Watching oneself being burned alive into ashes while in the clearest state of mind.

A Gold-tier Transcendent’s vitality allows them not to die immediately even if half their body is burnt away. They can still maintain clarity of mind, still have the ability to cast spells—and he clearly has ways to end his own suffering.

Whether it’s ending their life immediately or extinguishing the fire, it is feasible.

Yet, watching the flames slowly burn oneself to death... this is undoubtedly the most painful punishment.

If this world really has a hell, this would be a torture only the gravest sinners could endure.

But Hugo was a great benevolent person.

Since his youth, Hugo had used all his talents, all his energy to help others.

Even for someone as vicious as Bernadino, Hugo would wholeheartedly help him out of predicaments and become his friend. During the time Hugo was the Tower Master, he created and optimized countless inventions, bringing tremendous conveniences and significantly improving the lives of millions of mortals.

And he personally taught many outstanding students, each striving to help others in their respective fields. If this could also be considered Hugo’s accomplishment, then Hugo could be called the "kindest person" in the world.

... But why must such a good person suffer so much pain at the end of his life?

"Saul,"

Half-collapsed, Hugo still hadn’t died.

His right arm had fallen off from the shoulder, and his originally youthful face appeared aged due to dehydration, with his head caved in around the right eye.

Inside was a faintly visible dark red fire, while the collapsed features had turned into gray-white ashes.

"When I was young, I once saw two old gentlemen who apparently knew each other on the streets of the United Kingdom initiating a duel over something."

With his broken and asymmetrical body, he looked at Salvatore and, without moving his lips, emitted an unusually hoarse and rough voice, "They were both Transcendents... Although not highly ranked, merely Bronze level, they were indeed Transcendents."

Bronze-level Transcendents, if their erosion wasn’t too severe, would have much better bodies than ordinary people of the same age. After all, their physiques were no longer ordinary.

"At that time, they must have been truly angry—they exerted all their strength, raised their swords, and attacked each other with the swordsmanship they once excelled in.

"But because their bodies had become bulky and aged, and they hadn’t touched weapons in a long while, their movements distorted to a ridiculous extent. Due to the grotesqueness of their swordsmanship, not only did they fail to properly strike their opponent, but several times they nearly injured themselves... Even someone who had never used a sword, just hacking or slapping with it, would have been more effective than such fussy and ugly swordplay.

"In the end, the two old men were stopped by their own children without having determined a winner. One twisted his back, the other wheezed for breath. The surrounding people laughed at their ridiculousness, enjoying the spectacle.

"Yet, I felt sad for them. I could tell that they were once masters of swordsmanship—or they at least had formally learned it. However, that swordplay wasn’t meant for the elderly; as their bodies deteriorated, their experience became their enemy.

"Who really was at fault? I think neither the swordsmanship nor the people were to blame, but the problem wasn’t in ’aging’ either, but in the lack of self-awareness—mistaken experience can be even more deadly than a lack of experience. Only the most fatal mistakes could break their old confidence and awaken them... Times had changed, no longer the same as before.

"But at what cost? How many misjudgments would there be in between?"

Hugo calmly narrated an event he witnessed in his youth.

For him, as the master of the Wizard’s Tower and a Gold-level Transcendent, this story should have been a brief interlude in his fascinating life.

But Hugo remembered it for a lifetime.

"From that time, I knew that the experience gained over the years was not entirely beneficial. Once I stepped back from the forefront, it meant that my old experience could be wrong at any time.

"I thought that Bernadino, considering our friendship, wouldn’t do anything excessive to the Heath Tower of Black... so I let him in.

"But I was wrong. I was still wrong."

Hugo sighed.

Just by making this gesture, his jaw fell off.

Igniting in the air, turning into a wisp of ashes.

"A red-black youth, burnt out like firewood... turned into gray-white ashes from the outside in.

"I thought... I had been cautious enough. I had been on guard against my own erroneous and outdated experiences for a long time. But I still failed."

"Your classmates, your mentors... they died because of my wrong judgments."

Even though Hugo didn’t say anything after the destruction of the old Black Tower, he always considered it his responsibility.

"It was I who rescued Bernadino from the Tower of Black Radiance... I who taught him spells, taught him the principles of life; it was I who let him go pursue the freedom of life; and I, out of old affection, who finally let him come back.

"This is indeed Bernadino’s crime... but I am his accomplice."

At this moment, Hugo’s face had become exceptionally aged.

He had lost his eyes, flames dim as gems burned deep in his pupils. His skin, dried out from dehydration, had more and deeper wrinkles than Bernadino.

The aged Hugo, his voice dry and hoarse indistinguishable from the spirit-bearing monk Bernadino, said, "I... cannot forget.

"I will never forget."

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