The massive shadow accompanying the Stone Chief had seemingly shown he mastered an extraordinary martial art!
Seclela boasted a rich history of five thousand years, and the depictions in martial arts novels were not without basis. Some experts today claimed that martial arts were mere fabrications. However, that was only because they had never truly grasped the essence of Seclela martial arts.
The practice of martial arts focused on cultivating Chi and physical training, allowing one to achieve legendary feats akin to the heroes found in martial arts tales when reaching a certain level.
Ancient practitioners were incredibly dedicated to their craft. Once they chose a discipline, they pursued it tirelessly until reaching perfection. Their willpower was something modern youth could scarcely imagine, leading many to dismiss Seclela martial arts as a mere myth, though some modern martial artists believed that with enough time, success was inevitable.
Gerry examined the Stone Chief before him. Fifty years had passed, yet the Stone Chief seemed unchanged. When Gerry first encountered him, he looked just like this, and half a century later, he still appeared the same. Could it be that the Stone Chief was immortal? No, an immortal should not look like this. So, was he a monster? That seemed plausible.
However, Gerry had no time to ponder such matters. Whether a deity or a monster, as long as he could save the Ford family from peril, he would be their greatest benefactor.
Leonel stared at the Stone Chief, astonishment in his eyes. He had seen him once before, and even as just a shadow, he had haunted Leonel’s nightmares. Now, facing him again, that long-buried fear surged back.
He had encountered many ruthless figures, like Damian Morgan, who was already frightening enough. But compared to the person before him, Damian felt like a minor threat. The disparity in their presence was staggering.
“Gerry Ford!” The Stone Chief’s gaze shifted to Gerry, and he asked, “Are you Gerry Ford?”
Gerry nodded repeatedly, affirmatively responding, “Yes, I am Gerry Ford.”
“You’ve aged!” The Stone Chief said those words meaningfully as if reminiscing with an old friend.
Gerry sighed deeply, lamenting, “I never imagined that after all these years, you would still look the same as when we first met.” The Stone Chief’s appearance had frozen in time, and now, he remained unchanged. Gerry felt a sense of confusion but dared not speak further.
The Stone Chief threw his head back and laughed, his laughter echoing within the room, causing the walls to tremble.
“Alright, I won’t waste time with pleasantries. You summoned me for help, and my condition remains the same: I want to eat one of the Ford family. It could be one of your three sons. If I recall correctly…” As he spoke, a grin spread across his face.
His nose seemed to detect something, and after circling the room, his gaze landed on Marlon’s corpse. Observing the blood pooling around Marlon, he licked his lips and said, “This is top-quality noble flesh, fresh and not to be wasted.”
Before finishing his sentence, he crouched beside the corpse, eyeing it greedily. The next moment, a grotesque scene unfolded before everyone. He reached out and tore off one of Marlon’s arms, beginning to gnaw on it voraciously.
He consumed the raw flesh, making his already terrifying appearance even more horrific. This was not the satirical “man-eating” referenced in literature but a grim reality.
Gerry wanted to intervene, but it was too late. He could only watch helplessly as the Stone Chief devoured his son’s remains. Tears streamed down his face, mingled with guilt and despair.
He couldn’t save his son’s life, which was already a tragedy. Now he couldn’t even preserve Marlon’s body. Yet what could he do? All he could do was watch helplessly as his son was consumed.
If his son’s sacrifice could save the family from disaster, then perhaps his remains could still serve a purpose. With that thought, Gerry felt a sliver of comfort, despite the tears that continued to flow.
Many in the room couldn’t bear this brutal spectacle and began to vomit, some even fainting.
Kayden, however, remained expressionless, his gaze fixed on the Stone Chief. To him, cannibalism was nothing extraordinary. He had experienced far worse horrors. On the Battlefield, anything was possible-things could always get worse. Thus, the sight of a man-eating did not faze him.
The Stone Chief devoured Marlon’s remains as if he were a starving wolf, finishing every last bit.
As he discarded the final bone, he spat disdainfully, commenting, “Truly, the offspring of Hiphia’s premier family is exceptionally tasty. The only regret is that he has been dead for some time; if he were alive and I could enjoy him fully, the experience would surely have been even more delightful. What a pity.”
The Stone Chief’s frenzied nature sent chills down Gerry’s spine.
Swallowing hard, Gerry asked tremulously, “Stone Chief, can you take action now?”
The Stone Chief licked the blood from his beard and patted his belly, replying, “Don’t rush. You promised I could taste one person. You know my code: follow the rules-taste first, then act.”
Gerry was momentarily taken aback, trying to argue, “What you just ate was my son. You’ve already tasted him.”
Suddenly, the Stone Chief stomped heavily, and the ground shattered beneath him like a spider’s web, sending the benches crashing apart from the impact of his power.
“Gerry, are you kidding me?” The Stone Chief’s demeanor shifted to one of rage, and the shadow behind him swelled, growing from three meters high to five. The shadow expanded with his fury, growing taller as his anger intensified.
Gerry was paralyzed with fear, and the Fords fell into chaos, some collapsing in terror.
“No, I wouldn’t dare!” Gerry stammered, a large bead of sweat forming on his forehead. Their so-called friendship was a mere trick. The moment one claimed they were no longer friends, the bond disintegrated. Gerry felt like a ball kicked about, at the mercy of the Stone Chief, too frightened to resist.
If this fragile relationship were to spread, it would surely become a laughing stock.