A delicious fragrant roasted poisonous dragon wings, the three of them ate until their mouths went numb, and their body's transcendental activity was paralyzed like an electric shock, overpowering.
All that was left at the end of that grease-stained table were two large bones.
Finnian forked his coleslaw and wiped the last bit of sauce off his plate, chewing on the crisp leaves as he watched his brother and Witcher drink, his face full of amusement.
When the last of the brew was poured from the keg and shared between the two men, he stood up and very sagely began to clear the table.
Fintan got up as well and tried to help carry the empty kegs back to the cellar, only to have his hand knocked off by his brother.
After Finnian walks away carrying the large, empty bucket, the knight hugs Witcher and loses his voice, complaining about being disliked by his brother again.
Eleazar has a reassuring pat on the knight's shoulder, but his eyes are somewhat silent as he looks at Finnian's back.
The faded back, the crimson fire buried in the translucent body in the background without a hint of color around it.
A vague aura of blood emanated from his body, and with every footstep unjust souls that could not be laid to rest emerged from the ground.
Seemingly aware of this, the face, whose features were nothing but dark holes, looked back, freeing an arm and holding a finger gently up in front of the cracked corner of his mouth.
How long has this been going on?
Closing his perceptual vision, Eleazar watched in shock as a beaming Finnian turned back and disappeared down the corridor with a step in his arms, holding the keg.
All the evil in him had accumulated to the point where killing intent was becoming intolerable.
Turning his head, Eleazar looked at the knight and snapped, "Come on, let's go outside and do some sword practice."
Fintan lifted his drunken face, "What, you want to come and compete?"
"Well, I learned a little swordplay in Rune, come and try it out."
"Without using superhuman powers?"
"No need."
"Good! Let's see if I can't beat you to death."
Fintan pulls out two uncut practice swords and cheerfully leads Witcher out into the courtyard.
Throwing out a longsword and backing up to ten meters away, he struck a starting pose and shouted:
"Are you ready!"
Eleazar weighed the hilt of the sword, suddenly let go of his hand, sidestepped, stepped, sunk his waist, and stored up his strength, a whole set of movements like lightning in one go, his body dragged heavy residual shadows and flashed to the front of the knight, and in the pair of stagnant eyes, the arm that was stored in his waist rushed up to the sky.
Witcher lied, not only did he use his superhuman strength, but he went all out with an ascending dragon fist that slammed hard into that jaw and put the knight, whose feet were off the ground and his body backflipped, right down.
"I thought you'd understand me..."
Clapping his hands together, Eleazar turns and walks into the Knights mansion.
Tracing the scent of that still-remaining grievance, he easily found the mad erudite cleaning up the mess in the dungeon.
In the gloomy room like a morgue, several lab tables were covered with white cloth.
Eleazar walked over in silence and lifted a white cloth to look at it. The subject was hairless, his entire body had been processed clean, and all that was left at the end of it was an unfadeable tattoo on both arms of what appeared to be a gangster punk, the man's entire sternum cap had been taken off, and a whole bunch of weird organs were stuffed into his body, which was still rippling slightly.
"I didn't want you guys to see this..."
Finnian, who had stepped out of the cellar next door, stood silently in the shadows.
"But it was envisioned that there would always be experiments, and instead of wasting their precious lives that way, they could have dedicated their bodies to research."
Eleazar advises in a hushed voice, "Finnian, stop..."
"You can barely hide the evil in you anymore, and by the time you do, any random acolyte will be able to see it."
Finnian inclined his head, "What is this concealment ---- probably a measure of?"
Seeing Witcher's silence, he smiled and said, "I certainly wouldn't want to be caught by the Acolytes, and if you give me an exact value, I'll be sure to stop before then."
Eleazar was silent for a moment and said, "The souls of those who die with strong emotions are the most susceptible to the transcendent auras around them, they will haunt you like a curse, there is no specific value, and even if you stop researching it now, the darkness in your body may still erupt."
"Perhaps it was a deeply empathetic touch, perhaps it was an emotional resonance, but in reality, once you are near the holy light now, it is all over, and even if you can resist the judgment, you will be imprisoned in the holy light prison later."
Finnian thought for a moment, looked up, and smiled, "I see, which means that as long as I keep my heart like a rock and will continue my experiments, and no longer go near the holy light, then nothing will happen, right?"
Eleazar clenched his palms and whispered, "Keep it up and I'll kill you!"
Finnian smiles slightly and asks, "And how many more wronged souls will you tolerate hanging off of me, fellow Eleazar? It's this scum with no social value at all."
"Ten..."
"Only ten?..."
Finnian bowed his head, as if he was doing some quick math in his mind, and sounded a bit regretful.
"I still think it's doing good, the security in that area has changed for the better, and those residents are happy."
Eleazar tried to sound like Fintan and said, "Good things don't come from you! You've crossed the line!"
Finnian cocked his head and returned, "Reality is a very boring farce, it restricts too many phenomena and possibilities, and the only way to achieve the fulfillment of the transcendental spirit is to give up all restraints."
"Don't worry, Eleazar-san, I'll be done here soon, I won't make it difficult for you..."
...
Eleazar walked out of that evil lab with a heavy face.
He never asked Finnian the true purpose of those experiments to the end, fearing that upon hearing the truth, he wouldn't be able to resist slashing him with his sword.
Even in the back of his mind, he vaguely regretted agreeing to Fintan and helping his brother become such a disorganized transcendent.
Eleazar looked silently at the knight who lay huffing and puffing in the grass.
"Finnian, how could such a fool of a brother possibly carry off those trials of yours that subvert humanity..."
"Also, it's impossible for you to be promoted that fast, who on earth has been supporting you behind the scenes, don't be fooled so easily."
"I don't think so, you're so savvy..."
By the time he emerged from the Knight's Manor, Eleazar's initial guilt was gone, replaced by a wave of deep concern.
His best friend, at this point, is facing a major life-changing situation.
The ending may have been beautiful, but the process must have been incredibly painful, as far as he knew now to guess.
Stop?
Not stopping?
Eleazar finally stifled a dark curse:
"In the past, you even told me to run away, now why don't you run away and let your brother go crazy and get stronger to find you, wouldn't this ending be better..."