The Most Arbitrary Wizard

Chapter 153: Chapter 93: The Deeply Sinful Blake

"Holy Temple Remnants?"

Sean frowned the moment he heard the term, saying unhappily, "Who are you calling a remnant?"

"So rude."

’Polite my ass!’

Klintor was both shocked and furious. "You even know the Truth Technique! If you’re not a remnant, who is??"

’He had just thought that someone from the Blazing Angel Family colluding with the Hall of Truth was a huge deal, but he never expected the matter concerning the man beside the young woman to be even bigger!’

’He actually knows the Truth Technique!’

"Ordinary people can’t learn this kind of Evil Art at all."

"So not only are you a remnant, you’re an elite among them! Your sins are heavy, and you deserve death!"

Sean: "?"

’You’re the one who deserves death.’

The more Sean listened, the more annoyed he became. "What if I was born with it?"

Klintor’s voice grew even louder. "Then you’re a born remnant!"

Sean: "?"

’Want me to punch you twice?’

’He was baffled. The man had already been captured, trapped in a matrix with no way out. His end was predictably "miserable." It was one thing not to beg for mercy, but to keep slinging insults...’

"Aren’t you afraid of dying?" Sean asked.

"I am, of course I am," Klintor admitted honestly. He had failed to qualify for reforging and only had one life; who wouldn’t be afraid of death?

"But I would rather die than submit!"

"Even if you kill me today, slice me into a thousand pieces, I will still shout it out loud—"

"Damn you, Holy Temple Remnants!" Klintor’s gaze was unprecedentedly firm, so firm that it didn’t even seem like he was cursing. Instead, there was a soul-stirring sense of someone facing death with heroic abandon.

This was a matter of principle. He was loyal to the people, loyal to the Church Court, and had sworn to stand against the Holy Temple Remnants. This was his belief, and even more so, a form of knightly spirit. Even in death, he would never yield to the enemy!

"Then go die."

Before Sean could reply, a voice was heard, approaching from a distance.

Elvire had arrived.

She was holding a soldier in her hand, whom she tossed aside like a piece of trash before glaring murderously at Klintor.

The fact that Klintor had been running away had already annoyed her. Now that she was here, seeing Klintor cursing at Sean made her even angrier.

’If Sean was a Holy Temple Remnant, then what did that make her?’

’Klintor cursing Sean was the same as him cursing her.’

Elvire truly wanted to teach this guy a lesson and see if he could keep that tough act up, but Sean stopped her just in time.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t be rash."

Elvire had already raised her hand, a raging flame churning in her palm. Terrified, Klintor squeezed his eyes shut. He really was afraid of death, but after two seconds, the searing pain he expected never came. He couldn’t help but crack open an eye. Seeing that Sean had stopped the young woman, he immediately put on his tough front again and snorted heavily.

"Weren’t you going to kill me?"

"Bring it on!"

"Even if you kill me, it won’t end well for you two remnants! Hmph!"

"What are you hmphing about?" Sean said irritably. "I’m sparing your life for now, and you’re getting cocky?"

"Let me ask you, you know the Magic of the Holy Sanctuary is called the Truth Technique, yet you keep calling us remnants. Don’t you find that contradictory?"

’If it has "Truth" in the name, how can it be an "Evil Art"?’

"I wasn’t the one who named it the Truth Technique," Klintor said. "That’s what you Heretics called your own path, and that includes the ’Holy’ in Holy Sanctuary."

’Of course, "truth" is something bright and righteous. But the word "truth" absolutely cannot be defined by a single person or group. It should be a concept universally acknowledged by all. Insisting on calling your own Magic the "truth"—what’s the difference between that and brainwashing?’

’Only a Cultist would do something like that.’

Sean was speechless.

"Could it be that this ’truth’ refers to actual truth, like the laws of Mysticism?"

Klintor’s eyes widened. "See? You’re still saying it! You’re hopeless, you remnant!"

Sean: "?"

’Fine, fine, fine.’

’There’s just no reasoning with you, is there?’

’He was Sean, the founder of the Holy Temple, the pioneer of the Age of Polymath, Blake! Wasn’t he revered wherever he went? Yet to Klintor, he had become a deeply sinful Heretic.’

Sean was getting angry too. He said, "If you don’t give me a clear explanation today, I’ll force the Truth Technique into your brain and let you be a Heretic for once!"

Klintor: "?"

"What a vile mind!"

’To think he wanted to defile his pure soul.’

’But even so, he would not yield.’

’Worst comes to worst, he would just take his own life to atone.’

"A remnant is a remnant. There’s nothing to explain," Klintor said, his face a mask of someone who faced death without fear.

"You ungrateful bastard," Sean snorted. "Ever heard of Carl Black?"

"Without the Era of Polymath that he pioneered, would you all be living the lives you have today?"

The word "ungrateful" clearly struck a nerve with Klintor. A Knight cared most about his own virtue. He cursed, "Bullshit! What does the Era of Polymath have to do with Carl Black? Why the hell should I be grateful to him?"

’Carl Black was the creator of the Hall of Truth, the Heretics Leader. How could he not have heard of him?’

’On the contrary, he knew Carl Black very well.’

’Anyone with a bit of education and knowledge of history knew Carl Black very well.’

’And the more he learned, the more Klintor felt the man was a real piece of work.’

’Asking him to be grateful to Carl Black was simply an insult to his character!’

Klintor didn’t usually curse. Knights were supposed to be elegant and gentle; if they cursed, they did it internally, without letting the foul words pass their lips.

But this time, he really couldn’t hold it in.

’Sean couldn’t help but feel like this guy was some kind of Little Black sent by a Witch Hunter Family, who had heard he was going to be "revived" and was sent specifically to smear him.’

"What did he do to make you so furious? You’re not even from the same era."