Tyler Family

The middle-aged man's smile, once a beacon of warmth, now seemed to flicker with an artificial glow. His words, "Welcome to the Tyler castle, my Lord! I will immediately announce your arrival…" echoed through the grand hall, a stark contrast to his usual gruff demeanor. The transformation from a tyrant to a sycophant was as swift as it was surprising.

News of Leylin's visit had reached him, and the mere mention of the name had caused this drastic change. Leylin was no ordinary visitor. He was Bicky's senior, a distinguished student of Professor Kroft, and a prodigy of the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy. Whispers of his extraordinary talent in Potioneering had spread like wildfire, and tales of his advancement to a level 3 acolyte were the stuff of legends. It was said that he was on the verge of becoming a Magus before even celebrating his 20th birthday.

But what truly caught the man's attention was Leylin's promise to compensate for the damage caused by Bicky. This promise, more than anything else, stirred a potent mix of greed and anticipation within him.

As he spoke of his daughter, Bicky, his face contorted into an expression of feigned sorrow. "I feel very upset regarding the matter of my daughter, Bicky…" He managed to squeeze out some fake tears as he continued, "Previously, Bicky was a very obedient child, but now she's betrayed us! You can understand how I, as her father, felt when she…" His voice trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

"Indeed, I am well aware of all this. There's no need for further elaboration. Now, lead me to your elder. It seems my appetite has suddenly waned." Leylin's gaze hardened, his once kind eyes now piercing and unyielding. His demeanor shifted dramatically from amiable and humble to domineering and overbearing in an instant. The middle-aged man felt a chill run down his spine as if he were being hunted by a formidable beast.

"Right away, my Lord!" The head of the Tyler family quickly grabbed his youngest daughter and disappeared behind a grand double door.

A mere ten minutes later, Leylin found himself standing in the grand hall of the castle, face to face with the patriarch of the Tyler family. The hall was a testament to the family's rich history, adorned with portraits and paintings of the Tyler ancestors. These were the faces of powerful Magi who had once struck fear into the hearts of their adversaries. Their stern gazes and formidable stances were captured in vivid detail, a silent reminder of a time when House Tyler was a force to be reckoned with in the world of Magi.

However, those days were long gone. The once mighty lineage of House Tyler was now on the brink of obscurity. The portraits, once symbols of power and prestige, now served as poignant reminders of their former glory. Each painting told a story of a forgotten era when the Tylers were not just another failing Magus lineage, but a dynasty that commanded respect and awe.

"Distinguished guest, I am the patriarch of the Tyler family – Johnson Tyler. I welcome you to Tyler Fort. I hope that your stay here will be pleasant."

Johnson Tyler, the patriarch of the Tyler family, was an elderly man dressed in formal black attire. His silver hair was meticulously combed, giving him an air of elegance. However, his eyes were a cloudy white, hinting at his advanced age.

//

Name: Johnson Tyler || Gender: Male || Estimated age: 99 - 120 || Level 3 acolyte || Strength: 1.9, Agility: 2.5, Vitality: 0.6, Spiritual Force: 13, Mana Energy: 13

>Additional Notes: Magic artifact on target's body can unleash attacks up to three times, each producing a force of more than 20 degrees.

//

A flicker of red light, imperceptible to the untrained eye, darted through Leylin's optic nerve. This was Aralis, diligently scanning and recording every detail about the patriarch of the Tyler family.

Suddenly, Leylin's nose twitched. He had detected a faint odor of decay emanating from the patriarch's body, a telltale sign of his deteriorating health. The deep wrinkles etched into the patriarch's face were a testament to his advanced age and dwindling lifespan.

In terms of power, the patriarch was no match for Leylin. His strength was akin to that of an ant standing before a dragon. A cursory glance at the patriarch revealed that he possessed a decent magic artifact, likely a family heirloom passed down through generations. Such an artifact could potentially elevate a level 3 acolyte to the rank of a Magus, albeit at a great cost.

However, Leylin was far from impressed. He could easily swat Johnson aside like an annoying fly. There was no need for him to resort to magic; his Grand Knight abilities, bolstered by his superior anatomy and innate powers, were more than sufficient to deal with such adversaries.

Given the vast chasm that separated their respective strengths, Leylin felt no obligation to engage in idle chatter with these individuals. His initial display of courtesy at the entrance was merely a habit he had cultivated over time, a veneer of gentility he donned like a well-worn mask. But he had since realized the futility of such pretenses. There was no need for him to show deference to these people; he was their superior in every conceivable way.

"My purpose for coming here is clear," Leylin stated, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "As I mentioned in my previous letter, I will provide ample compensation for the Rainbow Potion. In return, you will absolve Bicky of her crimes and surrender her to me as a slave."

Without waiting for a response, Leylin strode over to the most ornate seat in the room and settled himself comfortably. As it happened, he had claimed the patriarch's throne for himself.

Johnson Tyler's face darkened at this blatant show of disrespect, but he quickly masked his anger. A flicker of indignation sparked in his eyes, but he swiftly quelled it. He felt a sense of injustice, as if a heavy weight had been placed on his chest. When had a mere level 3 acolyte ever dared to behave so audaciously within the walls of Tyler Fort?

Yet Johnson was no stranger to adversity. His many years of experience had taught him to maintain his composure in the face of provocation. Moreover, he couldn't shake off the sense of danger that Leylin exuded.

Drawing upon years of training, Johnson managed to plaster a smile on his face, giving no indication of the simmering anger beneath his calm exterior.

"The Rainbow Potion, an ancient treasure of immeasurable value, is now more elusive than ever due to the scarcity of its ingredients. Bicky is still a young maiden of unparalleled beauty. She remains pure and untouched by the world... Furthermore, she is a level 2 acolyte... Intending to buy her as a slave would entail a higher price."

"Cease your attempts to peddle your granddaughter as if she were the most desirable female in South Coast. Her worth —or rather, her lack thereof— is not lost on me, despite your claims to the contrary. As for the Rainbow Potion, I am willing to offer a vial of purified Grine Water in exchange," Leylin declared, his tone unyielding and resolute.

"Wh… What…?" Johnson stuttered, his face contorting into an expression of disbelief. The audacity of the acolyte's proposition was staggering.

"Perhaps age is clouding your judgment, you decrepit relic. Listen carefully: I am prepared to part with a vial of Grine Water. This should suffice as a fair trade for the Rainbow Potion, don't you think? After all, the potion's main use is to enhance the efficacy of the Grine Water. In terms of rarity, Grine Water far surpasses the potion. Consider Bicky as a gesture of goodwill on your part towards me. You were, after all, ready to sacrifice her just days ago."

Leylin interlaced his fingers and smiled, presenting Johnson with an offer he could hardly refuse.

The composition and effects of Grine Water had been thoroughly analyzed by Aralis during this period.

However, the brewing process required a multitude of ingredients that Leylin did not possess in abundance. Thus, he had to make do with just the analysis.

Based on Aralis's meticulous calculations, Grine Water possessed the extraordinary ability to ignite an acolyte's life force and break through the constraints of Spiritual Force. However, this method was not without its drawbacks, as it could lead to substantial repercussions and aftereffects.

In Leylin's case, his advancement had required the burning of a small fraction of his life force. This had been swiftly replenished by the potent blood essence of the Giant Kemoyin Serpent. Leylin theorized that the remarkable vitality inherent in the serpent's blood essence served as a substitute for his own life force, which was consumed during his progression.

As a result of this process, Leylin's lifespan extended significantly following his advancement. According to Aralis's estimates, Leylin could expect to live for at least 500 to 600 years. This is in stark contrast to a typical Rank 1 Magus who, despite utilizing various life-prolonging methods, could only aspire to reach an age of approximately 200-300 years.

Upon ascending to the status of a Rank 1 Warlock, Leylin found that Grine Water, which had previously been beneficial for acolytes, no longer held much significance for him. Initially, Leylin had planned to exchange it for other valuable resources. However, he soon realized that it could also serve as an effective form of compensation.

As expected, the mere mention of 'Grine Water' stirred excitement in patriarch Johnson. The Tyler family had been waiting for over 300 years for the emergence of an official Magus.

The Tyler family, once a prominent lineage, found themselves in a precarious situation. Their bloodline had been diluted over generations, and they were grappling with a scarcity of resources. This unfortunate combination resulted in bleak prospects for their advancement. They were devoid of even a single promising level 3 acolyte, a crucial figure who could have caught the eye of the academy chairman and secured a beneficial contract. As such, they were unable to procure the much-needed Grine Water.

Other families, far from extending a helping hand, reveled in the Tyler family's decline. They eagerly awaited the moment when they could swoop in and seize the Tylers' dwindling resources. Consequently, the Tylers found themselves isolated, with no allies to turn to in their time of need.

The Rainbow Potion, while valuable, was overshadowed by the rarity and significance of Grine Water. The potion's ability to increase success rates was somewhat ambiguous and capped at a mere 20%. In contrast, Grine Water was a game-changer. With it and a promising acolyte, the Tyler family could potentially cultivate their own official Magus, liberating themselves from the shackles of other contracts.

Despite his eagerness to secure this lifeline, the shrewd patriarch Johnson maintained an air of reluctance. He confessed with feigned shame, "I'm embarrassed to admit this, but when Bicky stole the Rainbow Potion, she also damaged some treasures…" His expression was one of cunning rather than remorse.

Leylin merely shook his head in response. He had anticipated such maneuvers before setting foot in the castle. He knew that even if he were willing to offer compensation for the damages, he would inevitably be exploited.

Despite being a level 3 acolyte, Leylin found himself facing a member of a Magus family. Even though the family was in decline, their power was not to be underestimated by any regular acolytes.

Johnson, the patriarch of the family, was known for his ruthless bargaining tactics. If he did not attempt to significantly reduce Leylin's offer, it would have been contrary to his reputation earned over his long life.

Leylin, however, was not a man to be underestimated or taken lightly. He retorted to Johnson's feeble attempt at bartering with a stern and unyielding warning. "Your pitiful attempt at negotiation has offended me," he declared, his voice echoing through the room. "Consequently, my offer has now been reduced to 50 magic crystals for Bicky's life. It's your choice whether to accept or reject it." His countenance darkened, and his hands clenched the armrests of his throne with an intensity that mirrored his words.

In tandem with his declaration, a potent wave of Spiritual Force energy radiated from him. It swept across the room like a tempestuous gale, causing the candles to be extinguished, and the banners and window curtains to flutter violently.

The formidable Spiritual Force of an official Magus was unleashed without restraint, sweeping through the fort and instilling fear in its inhabitants. The force was so overwhelming that it elicited terrified wails from those present.

The younger members of the Tyler family were particularly affected. Many of them fainted on the spot, blood seeping from their noses. They were ordinary humans, devoid of any resistance to a Warlock's mana radiation.

The level 1 and level 2 acolytes were not spared either. Their faces turned a deep shade of red as they struggled to remain upright, their bodies teetering on the brink of collapse.

Johnson's reaction was one of utter disbelief and shock. "You're an... official Magus?!" he stammered out, his mouth agape wide enough to fit several duck eggs, as if he had just seen an apparition.

Fear quickly took hold of Johnson as he promptly fell to his knees. "Most respected Lord Magus, please show mercy and spare my family members! I gratefully accept the offer of 50 magic crystals! Blessed be your name, Lord Leylin Farlier!" he pleaded.

Leylin watched as Johnson, who had been attempting to swindle him just moments ago, was now prostrated on the floor like a terrified rabbit. He responded with a cold harrumph but withdrew his Spiritual Force nonetheless.

Leylin had merely conducted a restrained test earlier. Had he not held back, the regular humans in the fort would have perished from the radiation.

Johnson trembled as he knelt, his mind reeling. 'This Spiritual Force can only belong to an official Magus! It's impossible! He… He can't be more than 18 years old!' The thought of having offended such a prodigious official Magus filled him with regret. He felt an overwhelming urge to weep, but no tears came. The thought of ending his own life even crossed his mind.

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope sparked in Johnson's mind. 'Bicky! Yes! This rascal has a good relationship with her!' His eyes lit up at this realization.

"Quickly! Bring Bicky here! Wait, no… Maid! First, prepare her for a bath…" After receiving Leylin's approval, Johnson scurried off into a large hall, barking orders at a woman sprawled on the floor.

Returning to Leylin, Johnson put on a fawning smile and bowed deeply. "My Lord, do you have any other commands?" he asked with a dumb smile.

Observing the unabashed audacity of Johnson's actions, Leylin found himself caught between amusement and revulsion. He regarded Johnson and the rest of the Tyler family with an air of indifference, as if he were navigating through a sea of rejects.

As Johnson nervously guided Leylin through the estate, minutes turned into what felt like an eternity. After what seemed like an endless journey, Leylin was finally presented with the sight of Bicky.

Fresh from her grooming session, Bicky's hair still glistened with undried droplets of water. She was adorned in a pristine white gown, but her countenance told a different story. Her eyes were shadowed by dark circles and puffy bags, revealing her exhaustion.

The sight of Leylin standing there with an unyielding demeanor left Bicky in disbelief. She glanced back and forth between Leylin and her obsequiously grinning family head, trying to piece together the puzzling situation. Meanwhile, Leylin's smirk grew more pronounced. He had been eagerly anticipating this moment.

A few minutes later, they found themselves in a spacious alcove. The room was devoid of anyone else - it was just Leylin and Bicky.

Leylin and Bicky found themselves seated across from each other, their presence only divided by a petite, round table of immaculate white. The table was adorned with an array of appetizers and aperitifs, meticulously arranged to create an inviting display.

Bicky held a piece of sponge cake delicately in her hand, but her lack of appetite was evident. She seemed lost in thought, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Is it true? Have you really ascended to the rank of a Rank 1 Magus so quickly?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Still appearing somewhat dazed, Bicky reached for a steaming beverage and took a tentative sip.

"Congratulations, Leylin... And thank you for coming to my aid," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

"Think nothing of it. You're my good friend, after all," Leylin responded with a warm smile.

"Yes, you're a good friend," Bicky echoed Leylin's words unconsciously, her gaze still unfocused.

Observing Bicky's disoriented state, Leylin asked in a calm tone, "What are your plans for the future?"

"The future?" Bicky pondered over the question, her gaze dropping to the table. "I don't plan on returning to the academy. I think I'll travel for a while and maybe one day, I'll return to my family…"

As she spoke these words, she looked up at Leylin with hopeful eyes. "Perhaps I could become your follower?" she suggested tentatively.

Upon attaining the status of an official Magus, an individual typically has the capacity to accept a select number of followers. This acceptance is formalized through a soul contract, where followers pledge their unwavering loyalty and life to their master. In return, the master is obligated to provide their followers with knowledge and resources commensurate with their achievements.

In the broader world, a follower often serves as a representative of their master, embodying their interests and authority.

"Regrettably, I cannot accept your offer," Leylin responded after a moment of contemplation. "I am currently grappling with a significant issue. Moreover..."

Leylin left his sentence unfinished, but Bicky understood his implication. Followers must possess a certain level of strength that could potentially benefit their masters in the future.

Now that Leylin had ascended to the rank of Magus, his journey was just beginning. Given his exceptional talent, it was crucial that his followers possessed aptitudes that were not subpar. Otherwise, further cultivation would prove futile.

Bicky's spiritual aptitude was somewhat lacking; she was still only a level 2 acolyte. Leylin estimated that without any extraordinary events, she would likely peak at the status of a level 3 acolyte in her lifetime. This level of achievement would offer little assistance to him.

"If that's the case, let's forget I ever brought it up," Bicky responded with a forced laugh.

Observing Bicky's reaction, Leylin felt a headache brewing. He shifted the conversation, "Have you decided what to do about Fayle?"

"Regarding him…" Bicky fell silent for a moment.

After a considerable pause, she spoke calmly, "He has joined the Redbud Flower family with both Grine Water and the Rainbow Potion in his possession. I fear he may have already broken through and become an official Magus. What can I possibly do?"

Leylin's voice was steady and resolute as he spoke, "In due time, he will face the consequences of his actions. I might even consider exacting revenge in your name." His words hung in the air, a solemn promise meant to instill a glimmer of hope and assurance within Bicky.

Bicky's eyes welled up with tears, their size reminiscent of large, glistening beans. They traced a wet path down her cheeks as she choked out her gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you, Leylin…" Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of her own sobs.

Overcome with emotion, she launched herself into Leylin's waiting arms. He caught her effortlessly, his expression softening into one of tenderness. His left arm wrapped around her in a comforting embrace while his right hand delicately traced the seams of her dress. The moment was intimate and poignant, a testament to their shared connection.

They began kissing and caressing each other, sharing in each other's bodies. Then, Leylin pulled away for a moment. Bicky had an entranced look, as if she couldn't think of anything else that was not Leylin.

"Here, my dear, drink this," Leylin murmured, his voice a soothing purr that echoed softly in the room. He held out a glass filled with a rich, ruby-red wine, its sweet aroma wafting through the air. The light from the flickering candles danced on the surface of the liquid, casting a warm glow on Leylin's face.

Bicky accepted the glass with a grateful smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She brought the glass to her lips and took a hearty gulp, savoring the taste of the wine as it slid down her throat. Her smile widened, her face glowing with contentment.

However, when she attempted to throw herself into Leylin's arms once more, he gently held her at bay. His eyes met hers in a silent exchange, conveying a message that words could not express.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bicky, I almost forgot... You're my property now. I didn't buy your freedom, so to speak. No, I purchased your life. Your family didn't want you anyway so it was a mutual benefit." Leylin spoke those harsh words with a warm tone, as Bicky almost drooled at his presence.

"I'm so happy, my love! I am yours forever! Take me now! Fuck me silly!" Bicky almost yelled, apparently disregarding the gravity of her situation. It was as if she were hypnotized. 

"Not for all eternity, no. You're going to die today, in fact. Stupid whore, haven't you realized it by now? What you drank was not wine, it was a vial of eldritch mushroom juice. Even a Potioneering failure such as yourself should know it is a deadly poison, don't you?" 

In an abrupt and startling transformation, Leylin's form began to shift and contort. His stature grew exponentially, reaching a towering height of three meters. His eyes morphed, taking on a demonic visage that was as terrifying as it was mesmerizing. He seemed almost otherworldly. His eyes glowed with an eerie light, radiating a sense of power and dominance that was impossible to ignore.

Meanwhile, Bicky found herself in a precarious situation. She was no longer free to move about her room as she pleased. Instead, she was bound securely to one of the ornate poles of her canopy bed. The ropes that held her were tight and unyielding, leaving her with little room to maneuver. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took in the sight of Leylin's transformed state, a mix of fear and awe coursing through her veins. The room, once her sanctuary during her childhood and teenage years, now felt like a cage from which there was no escape.

Bicky seemingly awoke from her daze, as reality dawned on her suddenly. She felt so sick she threw up in her mouth.

"Couldn't handle my Illusory Aura... As expected from a weakling like you..." Leylin spat with disdain.

"Why? Why are you doing this, Leylin?!" Bicky despaired, as she cried.

Leylin's cold eyes met Bicky's tear-streaked face. "Why, you ask?" he echoed, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Isn't it obvious, Bicky? You're weak. You're not fit to be alive. I am merely speeding up the process of your death."

"But... but I didn't anything to deserve this! I... I..." Bicky sobbed and stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.

"No, you didn't. But that's the reality of our world. Only the strong survive," Leylin retorted, his voice devoid of any warmth. "And besides, I enjoy making pretty girls like you suffer and cry, only to then end their lives. The fear in your eyes, the tears of despair, your cracking voice... It's just so sweet...' Leylin then smiled as if he had been reunited with a long lost love.

Bicky could only stare at Leylin in disbelief, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She had trusted him, believed in him, and now, he was the one pushing her into the abyss.

"Don't cry just yet. I'm only getting started." Leylin said with a sadistic grin, as he used his dagger to cut Bicky's dress open.

"Are you going to ravage me, Leylin?! Is this what you want?!" She screamed. 

"Don't be ridiculous. I've already fucked you once, even if you don't remember it. No, I wouldn't go anywhere near where that Torash had his micropenis in." Leylin said, his words laced with irony, as he used his dagger to cut off Bicky's only remaining nipple. He then followed with cutting her randomly all over her body.

Bicky's screams echoed through the room, a symphony of pain and despair. Her cries were raw and uncontrolled, tears cascading down her cheeks like twin waterfalls. The agony was unbearable, yet it was just the beginning.

Leylin stood over her, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You thought you could hide your scar with a Transfiguration Spell," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "But I remember every detail of that night. I watched as he marked you, relishing in your suffering. I allowed it to happen, because your pain... it was a spectacle to me. Now, it's my turn to destroy you completely." With a swift, brutal kick, he crushed her nose. Blood sprayed across her chest, staining her wounds a deeper shade of red.

Bicky's world was spinning. She could feel her consciousness slipping away as she began to vomit a viscous green substance. Her body was desperately trying to expel the poison coursing through her veins, but it was a futile effort. The poison was fast-acting, and soon her vomit was tainted with streaks of blood. Death seemed imminent.

But Leylin wasn't done with her yet. He sprayed her with healing elixirs, just enough to keep the specter of death at bay. Her wounds remained open, her pain unending. He was keeping her on the precipice of death, not allowing her the release she so desperately sought. Leylin held the power over life and death in his hands, and he reveled in it.

"Listen closely, bitch." Leylin said, his voice echoing ominously in the dimly lit room. "I'm offering you a single opportunity to secure the antidote for the poison coursing through your veins. Follow my instructions to the letter, and you'll walk out of here unscathed. Does that pique your interest?" He paused, allowing her a moment to process his proposition.

Bicky, her face streaked with tears, did her best to suppress her sobs. She needed to think clearly. Her silence was all the affirmation Leylin needed to proceed.

"My request is straightforward," Leylin continued, a smirk playing on his lips. "I want you to retrieve the most prized possession in this castle - Johnson's magical artifact."

"But.... but... I can't..." Bicky managed to whisper between her labored breaths and pained groans. She attempted to vomit once more, but all that came out was a mouthful of blood.

"Perhaps, I should assign you a task more suited to your current status. A task befitting a disgraced acolyte," Leylin suggested, his voice dripping with condescension. "Why don't you try killing your father? He's right here with us. I'm confident that even someone of your diminished capabilities should find it manageable." His lips curled into a cruel smile as he snapped his fingers. 

The middle-aged man who had initially welcomed him to the castle emerged from the restroom. His eyes were vacant, his demeanor altered. He was silent, trapped in the same hypnotic state that had ensnared Bicky earlier.

Bicky struggled to comprehend Leylin's actions, her mind racing. "Why are you doing this, Leylin? You helped me only to turn on me like this? Does this mean you harbor some affection for me? Are you merely joking with me?" She clung desperately to any rational explanation that might prevent her from spiraling into madness.

Leylin's response was chillingly detached. "Indeed, my dear Bicky, I do love you. And this is all a fun game. Now, proceed with the task. Murder your father. And use your own hands. Well, not that you possess the energy to cast a spell anyway..." His words were devoid of any human emotion.

Bicky's eyes sparkled with a newfound freedom as Leylin released her from her restraints. Without wasting a moment, she sprinted towards her father and tackled him with a forceful kick. He offered no resistance, falling easily under her attack.

She wasted no time in raining punches on his face, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The truth was, she harbored no affection for this man. He had always belittled her for being a woman and had even conspired with Johnson to have her executed for her alleged crimes. Now, she had the opportunity to exact her revenge and simultaneously earn Leylin's trust and love.

This was what she yearned for. This was what she needed. She was determined to end the life of the man who had caused her so much pain - her own father.

And so, she did. With her delicate yet determined hands, she clutched his neck, exerting all the strength she could muster. It felt like an eternity, each second stretching into minutes, each minute into hours, as she held on with unwavering resolve until he finally stopped breathing. The Tyler family head never even tried to defend himself or even squirm away from her grip. He let himself be murdered.

Leylin's lips curled into a smirk, his hands slowly coming together in a sarcastic applause. "Bravo, my dear Bicky," he drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and fake admiration. "You've actually managed to pull it off. I must admit, I'm impressed. And you know what? I might even fall in love with you for it..."

Bicky turned towards him, her face plastered with a shaky smile that belied the intense pain radiating from her abdomen. She clutched at her stomach, her knuckles turning white from the effort.

"Nevertheless..." Leylin's voice trailed off, his face twisting into a manic grin that sent chills down Bicky's spine. "I find it hard to believe that you'd stoop so low as to take your little sister's life. To not only punch her into a bloody pulp, but also strangle her to death... You always claimed to love her so much... It's quite the revelation." His demonic eyes gleamed with a strange red light as he continued, "Impressive indeed. Perhaps you might make a suitable pet after all..." His words hung in the air, a challenge and a taunt rolled into one, as he watched Bicky, eagerly anticipating her reaction.

The transition was abrupt, catching her off guard. She whipped her head around to face her father's lifeless corpse, her heart pounding in her chest. A scream of pure terror ripped through the silence, echoing off the walls as she recoiled in horror. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

What met her gaze was not the familiar sinister visage of her father, but instead, the innocent, cherubic face of her younger sister. Her sweet, naive sister who had been thrust into a situation far beyond her comprehension. The stark contrast between what she had expected and what she was now witnessing sent a shiver of dread coursing through her veins.

"KUSHY!! NO!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!!" Bicky's scream echoed through the room, a raw, guttural sound that bore the weight of her despair. She brought her hands up to her head, striking herself repeatedly as if each blow could somehow erase the reality of what she had done.

Her voice cracked under the strain, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea to the universe. But no amount of self-inflicted pain could change the fact that this was not some twisted nightmare she could wake up from. This was reality, harsh and unforgiving.

"Don't fret, Bicky. She wouldn't have survived today anyway. Consider it a mercy. You saved her from falling prey to an unknown creature. At least this way, you got to bid her farewell as life slipped away from her. I mean, if you're going to be murdered, you might as well be murdered by your loving sister, right?" Leylin's words were laced with mockery as he patted Bicky's back. "Anyway, here's the antidote. You earned it," he added, handing Bicky a vial filled with a green liquid.

Bicky drank it numbly, but her eyes flashed with great pain before she clutched her throat and collapsed, blood gushing from her mouth uncontrollably. Her body convulsed on the floor for a few moments before becoming deadly still. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her tongue was dark green. Her skin had turned yellow and began to emit a pungent stench, as if she were decaying at an accelerated rate.

"Foolish till the very end. That wasn't an antidote, but a vial with a more concentrated version of the poison. If only you had been strong enough to resist my Illusory Aura, you might have realized it in time. But alas, you were nothing more than a plaything in my hands right from the start. Now, after killing whom you loved most, you kill yourself by accident. A fitting end for a simpleton like you." Leylin's voice was cold and emotionless as he looked down at Bicky's lifeless body with a vicious smile, only for his face to grow devoid of any expression the next second.

Leylin, already a master of his enhanced dark tendrils, unleashed his power to blast open the doors to Bicky's chambers. He emerged with a calm and composed stride, traversing the blood-soaked corridors of Tyler Fort. Each step he took echoed with a chilling, wet sound - a grim reminder of the blood that now painted the fort. Blood was everywhere - it stained the floor, splattered on the walls, and dripped from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the grand hall, Leylin found a treasure trove waiting for him next to the throne. Magic artifacts, crystals, potions - all of Tyler's valuable resources were there, including a few coveted Rainbow Potions.

[It seems old man Johnson has completed his task quite efficiently.] Aralis noted.

'Indeed. They were all too easy to manipulate... With my Illusory Aura, I can control anyone weaker than me. But I must be careful with this power. If anyone discovers it, they might uncover the truth about my evolution and my dark powers. This is my ultimate trump card.' Leylin thought to himself as he used his dark tendrils to transport everything to his horse's saddlebags.

He cast a final glance at the castle as his two Mankestre Snakes slithered out of the gates. They were drenched in blood and looked quite satisfied as they opened their maws lined with fangs that were sharper than enchanted blades.

One of the Mankestre Snakes deposited Johnson's severed head, which had a horrified expression, on the ground next to Leylin, as if trying to earn the praise of its Master. Leylin did no such thing. Instead, he simply picked the head up, briefly stared at Johnson's ugly face, and then threw it away as if it were nothing.

"I'm sure you enjoyed feasting on those pests. The acolyte meat should have been nourishing for you. I can already sense your increased power. Excellent." Leylin nodded in approval as he dismissed his summons using magic sigils. He had used them to exterminate every last Tyler. Men, women, children - it did not matter to him. All were dead.

His Mankestre Snakes left no trace behind - they devoured everything from bone and meat to hair and clothes. They even backtracked Leylin's steps and consumed Bicky and Kushy.

Satisfied with his work, Leylin retrieved a shiny purple vial from his satchel.

'This is Red Mountain Troll Grease. Its explosive effect and magic signature are very similar to that of the Rainbow Potion, thanks to the origin of the Rainbow Root in the Red Mountain...' Leylin mused as he tossed the vial into the castle. A massive explosion followed, engulfing the castle in flames. He had already instructed his brainwashed minions to plant several vials inside their own home before they were devoured by his Snakes.

The explosion reached Leylin and his horse, but his mana radiation shielded them from harm. Atop his horse was a large package wrapped in black cloth. Unrolling it with his tendrils revealed an unconscious girl - Hong, the academy student who had delivered his letter. Chuckling softly, Leylin absorbed her soul with his tendrils and nonchalantly flung her mummified remains into the raging fire.

He had ventured to this place driven by two compelling motives. Firstly, the desire to see Bicky meet her end had been gnawing at him since their paths first crossed. There was something about her that stirred a dark longing within him, a craving for her demise that he could not ignore anymore.

Secondly, his insatiable greed for treasures had led him here. The Tylers, despite their apparent weakness, still possessed enough riches to make it worth Leylin's while. Their wealth was tantalizing, and their lack of strength made them an easy target. They were practically inviting Leylin to plunder them with their display of riches and lack of formidable defense.

Thus, driven by his dark desire and unquenchable greed, he found himself in a place where he could satiate both. The prospect of Bicky's downfall and the allure of the Tyler's treasures were irresistible lures that had drawn him into this intriguing game of power and deceit.

Leylin had masterfully orchestrated a ruse, using his relationship with Bicky as a lure. His feigned willingness to assist her was nothing more than a clever ploy to gain unobtrusive entry into their fortress. Once inside, he manipulated the unsuspecting inhabitants with ease, setting the stage for their inevitable downfall. His actions were so subtle and convincing that he didn't even need to bring the Grine Water with him. His mere words were potent enough to control these unsuspecting pawns.

Having achieved his objectives, Leylin made sure to erase any traces of his actions. With nothing left to accomplish here, he wasted no time in making his exit. Mounting his horse, he galloped away into the distance, leaving behind the ancient Tyler Fort engulfed in a sea of rainbow flames. The once formidable stronghold was now being consumed by the destructive fires, marking an end to its long-standing history.

As Leylin disappeared into the horizon, the fort continued to burn, its once mighty walls now crumbling under the relentless assault of the flames. The echoes of its past glory were being silenced, replaced by the crackling sounds of the raging inferno. This marked the end of an ancient Magi House and the beginning of a new chapter in Leylin's intriguing tale.