Chapter 420

Chapter 420: Mind Lock

“Good, you dwarf, very good!” Sethe let out a furious laugh, then shot a fierce glare at Midi. “A human, are you? You’re the first to dare speak to me this way in Mososbury City.”

His gaze toward Midi was like that of a man staring at a corpse.

“Though I’ve not spent long in the Shaded Realm, even I know a true warrior doesn’t hide behind guards,” Midi pressed on. “Mr. Sethe—with your behavior, did you truly believe you could invite the priestess of the Wolfspider tribe?”

Sethe finally snapped.

By this point, even in a shop under the Death Scorpion family’s banner, he no longer cared about consequences.

To be insulted by a lowly human from a minor tribe—if Sethe didn’t shred him to pieces here and now, how could he keep strutting through Mososbury City?

If Midi walked out alive—no, if he even stepped beyond the "Dragon Spear" weapon shop—Sethe would become a laughingstock.

“You’ll pay now—” Sethe snarled, abandoning words and readying to strike.

But in that instant, a deep blue glow ignited in Midi’s eyes—an abyssal light from the ocean’s depths, hungry to devour souls.

Facing that gaze, Sethe, a level 60 practitioner, had no defense.

The world spun. Then darkness swallowed him whole as he crumpled to the floor.

Mind-related abilities: Mind Lock!

A high-level mind-related ability.

It dealt no direct harm but paved the way for mental combos.

Struck by Mind Lock, victims lost all thought—reduced to mindless husks driven by instinct, helpless against attack.

Even after the effect faded, memories of the assault vanished.

It even worked partly on psychic users.

A devastating skill, leaving no trace of the user’s trump card.

Midi had drilled this technique relentlessly before coming to Mososbury City.

As nobility, he knew exactly how “powerful factions” and “major families” operated.

On Arad’s surface, morals restrained those spoiled heirs from utter lawlessness.

But here in the Shaded Realm’s brutal underground? Midi could imagine—no, he’d seen proof.

Take Zaknavan: why had he angered the City of Fierce Wind’s lord, ending up a wilderness exile turned slave?

The tale reeked of major families’ tyranny.

To avoid Zaknavan’s fate, Midi planned ahead.

In battle, he might charge headlong—but strategy demanded preparing for disaster.

Reasoning with powerful factions? Impossible. Only force remained.

Yet even with Zaknavan, Mason, and the Wolfspider tribe, challenging Mososbury’s giants was folly.

Thus, “invisible” force: untraceable, evidence-free. Perfect for these vipers.

"Mind Lock" was a powerful skill that could be unleashed in broad daylight without leaving any trace.

The best outcome would’ve been avoiding conflict entirely and passing the remaining time before the bonfire gathering peacefully.

But since this Death Scorpion family member acted so arrogantly, Midi saw no choice but to act.

Though Sethe was a top-tier level 60 warrior, his resistance to psychic energy was practically nonexistent.

While Midi’s "Mind Lock" served mainly as a setup for combos rather than direct attack power, its level matched even Alexis’s "Psychic Sniping" in terms of sophistication.

Used against Sethe, it instantly paralyzed his Intelligence, reducing him to a drooling fool.

The young man didn’t even make a sound before collapsing like a limp rag.

Stripped of his intellect, Sethe’s true nature surfaced—

Cowardice.

Midi calmly analyzed his technique’s effectiveness while pretending shock.

Others, including Galantis, reacted with genuine horror.

“Lord Sethe?” The head of the guard turned corpse-pale, rushing to lift his master’s limp form before glaring daggers at Midi. “What did you do?!”

Midi simply spread his hands in mock innocence.

No movement. No spells. No magic wave.

In the crowded Dragon Spear weapon shop, surrounded by multiple factions, explanations were pointless. If challenged, he’d fight—but they’d find no evidence.

This ambiguity granted him leverage against powerful factions.

“Master Fortlin,” Midi dragged the gray dwarf into the mess, “does Sethe have some… chronic condition?”

Fortlin’s eye twitched. This was his shop; he couldn’t ignore a Death Scorpion collapsing here. Reluctantly, he played along: “Mososbury City breeds strange ailments. Take him to the black dragon priestess immediately!”

“Damn you…” The guard captain knew something was wrong, but Sethe’s life took priority. Shooting Midi a venomous look, he carried his master away.

Only when Death Scorpion’s entourage vanished did the shop’s occupants relax.

“We’re leaving,” Midi declared, nodding at Fortlin. “Your service is remarkable. I’ll return.”

“Our honor,” Fortlin lied through gritted teeth, praying this round-eared human never darkened his doorstep again.

Once outside, Midi’s group moved swiftly. Though originally planning to stay another night for intel, they departed Mososbury City immediately. The caravan raced nonstop for two days, only slowing when no pursuers appeared.

“Even major families can’t act freely,” Midi observed. “Death Scorpion’s restrained by rival factions.”

Zaknavan nodded silently, lost in memory.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Mason warned. “They’ll hold back until the Fighter Selection. Then, in the arena…”

“We’ll be targeted,” Zaknavan finished grimly.

Though "Mind Lock" left no evidence, Sethe’s public humiliation guaranteed Death Scorpion’s suspicion. Yet without proof, attacking a city council-protected tribe would cross lines.

For now.

No family forgave attacks on their members. Retribution would come—if not now, then during the bonfire gathering where they’d pressure other tribes to sabotage Wolfspider.

Still, none blamed Midi. Letting their priest be abducted would’ve destroyed tribal credibility.

The arrow had been loosed. Now they faced the consequences of provoking one of Mososbury City’s four ruling powers.