Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 50: Ruthless Flower Crusher

The autumn sunlight, golden and gentle, shone down on the scene, yet it could not warm the cold gleam of the blade. When light falls on a weapon poised to kill, even the sun itself seems to lose its warmth. The chill that radiated from Aizen’s sword was palpable. It was the kind of strike that made onlookers feel an icy fear deep in their hearts, as if any moment they could be the ones at the mercy of the blade.

Krul knew better than to underestimate it. She realized in the instant she launched her attack that she had already fallen into a disadvantage. Her instincts, honed over years of training and life-or-death encounters, screamed a warning. She was well aware of Aizen’s danger. He was like a lion stalking his prey, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness, his killer’s intent smoldering beneath a deceptively calm facade.

But Krul was no coward. Her entire life had been a series of struggles and challenges, and she wasn’t someone to sit still and wait for death. Aizen’s silent, oppressive aura made it feel as though a volcano was waiting to erupt at any second. The pressure was enormous, suffocating even, and it was this pressure that had forced her to retreat three steps. But those three steps were the very limit of her retreat. Any further, and she would stumble into the abyss of defeat.

What she didn’t realize was that the suffocating pressure she felt came from Aizen’s gathering inner force, cultivated from the infamous Star Absorption Technique. This technique, which siphoned energy from opponents and nature, granted him vast reserves of power coursing through his body. His internal energy surged through his meridians, lending him a strength that was both terrifying and invisible. Even though those around him couldn’t clearly perceive this power, they could still feel the oppressive sense of doom it emanated. Under such pressure, most enemies would either succumb to madness or be crushed entirely.

Aizen’s Blade shot forward like a meteor, swift and merciless. It was a simple thrust, but deadly in its precision. The air around the blade seemed to freeze, and Krul felt as if she had plunged into icy waters. Her body shivered involuntarily; her instincts screamed that she was moments away from death. Desperation kicked in, and she changed the angle of her cold hook, altering its trajectory to block his attack. The crescent-shaped blade arced out from the crimson folds of her cloak, a moon cutting through red clouds, aiming directly at Aizen’s thrust.

Despite the speed of Aizen’s Blade, Krul was quick enough to intercept. Her cold hook met his blade with perfect timing, deflecting the lethal strike. Yet, Aizen’s expression remained calm, almost amused. He had expected her to block it. In fact, he had planned for it. What made the Soul Shattering Hook dangerous was the hook itself; without it, Krul would lose her deadliest weapon.

Her movement technique? It was impressive, but at such close range, even the fastest movement wouldn’t help her escape. Aizen had always thrived in controlling the rhythm of battle, and this time was no different. The sword thrust had been a feint, designed to force her into a trap. To Krul, it felt real, aimed straight for her heart, making her believe she had no choice but to defend.

The moment her hook caught his blade, she felt a surge of hope. Sparks flew as her cold hook twisted and locked onto the sword, deflecting its deadly edge.

"Ding!"

The sharp sound rang out, and her eyes lit up with a brief triumph. She twisted her wrist, locking his blade further and turning it away, reducing its threat.

Seizing the chance, Krul closed the distance between them, stepping in with a light and graceful palm strike aimed at Aizen’s heart. Her Cotton Palm appeared soft and harmless, but it hid a deadly, explosive force that could crush a person’s insides upon contact.

"Well done! Sister Krul’s counterattack is so swift!" someone in the crowd whispered in awe.

"Too bad that guy is foolish. His Blade was fast, but he doesn’t know how to adapt. Even after getting hooked, he didn’t change his move," another observer commented. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Aizen’s lips curved into a slight smile. These onlookers had no idea how wrong they were. Krul still had dangerous techniques without her hook, but Aizen also had skills beyond his sword. As her Cotton Palm struck out, Aizenresponded with a fierce palm strike of his own.

His palm strike, the Profound Ice Palm, carried a crushing, icy force. The air around his hand seemed to ripple, and the impact was like a predatory eagle descending upon a helpless chick. The strength of his blow made the air tremble, and a vortex seemed to form, swirling around his palm as he unleashed his inner energy.

Krul’s face turned pale. The force emanating from Aizen’s palm was suffocating, as if a tidal wave were crashing over her. Panic filled her eyes. She had to retreat, but Aizen’s Blade, which had been hooked by her cold blade, suddenly twisted with a violent snap. It was like a dying serpent coiling one last time, and with a loud "crack," the iron Sword shattered. Shards of the broken sword flew everywhere.

"Aah!" Krul screamed as several shards slashed across her face, drawing blood. More fragments shot toward Aizen, but his inner energy shield deflected them harmlessly.

Aizen’s palm met hers in that instant, and the impact was devastating. The explosive force she had hidden within her Cotton Palm was about to be unleashed, but Aizen’s overwhelming power crushed her resistance. "Crack!" Her forearm shattered, bone fragments bursting from her elbow in a spray of blood and gore. A chilling, icy force flooded into her body, causing even more internal damage.

Aizen’s smile grew colder. His hand tingled from the impact, but the minor discomfort was nothing compared to the devastation he had inflicted. Krul’s once-beautiful face was now a mask of blood and horror. Her eyes, wide with terror, reflected her disbelief at the sheer strength of her opponent. Blood dripped from her lips, and she stumbled backward, her spirit broken.

"Don’t... don’t kill me," she stammered, her voice filled with desperation. "My husband is Ghost Blade Kean. If you kill me... uh!" Her plea was cut short.

Her body was already failing, her arm mangled beyond use, but Aizen did not hesitate. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, brushing aside her cold hook as if it were nothing. His free hand shot forward, transforming into a claw that latched onto her slender neck. Her remaining hand clawed desperately at his arm, her nails digging into his skin, but she was no match for his strength. Her bloodied face, once admired by many, was now a grotesque mask of pain and fear.

"No... no..." she choked out, her voice weak and broken. Aizen’s eyes remained cold, devoid of mercy. With a simple squeeze, he snapped her neck. The sound echoed in the silence, like an egg being crushed.

The crowd, who had been murmuring moments before, fell into stunned silence. The disciples who had once flattered Krul stood frozen, their faces pale. They began to disperse quietly, slipping away without a word. Even the brown-robed steward, whose expression had been grim, now forced a stiff smile when Aizen glanced his way.

Aizen had shocked everyone with his power. He had killed Krul swiftly, suffering only minor scratches from her final, desperate resistance. People whispered that even her formidable husband, Ghost Blade Kean, might not be able to take down someone so terrifying.

With cold detachment, Aizen searched Krul’s corpse, retrieving anything valuable. He handled her lifeless body without emotion, as if tossing aside a broken object. Her corpse, once full of life and beauty, now lay crumpled and blood-soaked, her eyes wide with fear and unfulfilled rage. No one felt sympathy. Certainly not Aizen.

The once-proud beauty was now nothing more than a broken flower crushed underfoot, her tragic end a warning to all who witnessed Aizen’s ruthless power.