Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)-Chapter 231: The Weird Imp

Third Person's POV

He ruffled Velcy's hair fondly and masked his inner scheming with brotherly affection.

She grinned and was clearly pleased but she stepped back and slightly hid herself behind his back as the warden approached.

Soon, with an approving nod, the old man awarded Virelle her own Steel Rank tag.

Without hesitation, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the metallic surface.

The tag absorbed it instantly and caused the engravings to glow faintly before settling into their final form.

With practiced ease, she took a delicate silver chain from her pouch, skillfully threading it through the small hole in the tag before looping it around her wrist like an elegant bracelet.

She lifted her smooth pale wrist in front of Ethan's eyes and shook her hand slightly as if to emphasize her new achievement.

"Look, Brother Ethan! It suits me, doesn't it?" she said with a playful glint in her eyes.

Ethan let out a soft chuckle and nodded approvingly. "Not bad," he replied, his tone carrying both amusement and warmth.

Then he shifted his gaze to Velcy and gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"It is your turn now, little Velcy. Go on."

Velcy took a deep breath and nodded as she stepped forward with quiet determination.

However, the moment her opponent entered the ring, Ethan's expression instinctively stiffened and he was shocked slightly.

The creature standing before Velcy was a grotesque sight to behold.

It was unnervingly small in stature and barely reaching her waist, yet its presence radiated an unsettling air of malice.

Its skin was thick and leathery and a sickly shade of black, with uneven patches of coarse fur sprouting in odd places across its wiry frame.

But what disgusted Ethan the most were its eyes. They were small, beady, and gleaming with something vile.

It started giggling happily and its shoulders shook with unrestrained amusement as it seemed to be completely immersed in its own delusions.

Its barbed tongue slithered out and dragged across its cracked lips with an audible squelch.

The rough texture of his tongue cut into its already wounded flesh.

Small droplets of dark blood seeped from the fresh cuts, yet the imp remained oblivious while being far too consumed by whatever sick fantasy was playing out in its twisted little mind.

Ethan stared at the creature with an utterly baffled expression as his initial disgust had faded into something else entirely.

He couldn't even bring himself to be angry anymore.

There was just something so ridiculous and so downright comical about the imp's behavior that he found himself at a complete loss for words.

And judging by the faces around him, he wasn't the only one.

The gathered crowd wore similar expressions of confusion, revulsion, and secondhand embarrassment they were feeling for the behavior of another.

Many had twitching lips and some even fought the urge to groan aloud while a few outright palmed their faces in disbelief.

The sheer absurdity of the situation had left them all in an awkward silence and their collective thoughts practically seemed to echo in unison.

Who in the Abyss thought it was a good idea to make this thing an initiation tester?

Even for the lowest rank, this has to be the most pathetic excuse for an imp we have ever seen.

The atmosphere was so bizarre that a few demons in the crowd had to turn away and were unable to keep a straight face.

However, Velcy had no such reservations. She didn't hesitate for even a second and moved.

Her steps were utterly soundless and her presence was barely noticeable as she glided across the stage like a specter.

The imp who was still drowning in its depraved thoughts, failed to notice the sudden shift in the air around it.

Then, just as its beady eyes flickered upward and confusion dawned in its grotesque features, the light before it darkened and it was already too late.

The last thing the imp saw was the blur of a small delicate fist hurtling straight toward its face.

The imp's pointy nose crumpled inward and was crushed against its jagged teeth as the force of Velcy's punch drove it backward.

A sickening crack echoed through the hall and was followed by a guttural, half-choked scream that tore from its throat.

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Its body sailed through the air in an almost comically exaggerated arc before it crashed into the dark gate from which it had first appeared.

For a split second, the imp's clawed fingers twitched as if trying to resist its fate but then, without any further struggle, it vanished into the darkness from where he had come from.

The echoes of its scream lingered in the air for a breath longer before fading into complete silence.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Many in the crowd exchanged wide-eyed and flabbergasted looks while their expressions were caught somewhere between disbelief and hilarity.

Then, like a dam breaking, laughter erupted among the onlookers.

The absurdity of the entire situation had been too much to process, and now with the imp's disgraceful defeat, the tension transformed into uproarious entertainment.

They had come for this and the collective joy banished the tension and conflict that had pervaded the pub since Ethan's appearance.

However, amidst the laughter, there was one face that remained unsmiling.

The warden's expression was dark and his brows were furrowed as he stared at the spot where the imp had disappeared.

But his grim mood had nothing to do with the spectacle or even Velcy's overwhelming victory.

No, his thoughts were far more complicated.

What did that pitiful imp see in that little scarred girl that even I couldn't?

A flicker of unease passed through his sharp eyes as he glanced at Velcy, who stood calmly on the stage with an impassive face as if she hadn't just sent her opponent flying with a single blow.

Is she hiding something? A secret so deep that even I failed to notice?