Eu Não Sou a Esposa do Dragão Invencível Não-Humano (Transmigrando no Livro)

“Please, spare me.”

In the dimly lit room, the purple-haired man was drenched in blood. He staggered and fell to the ground, watching as the figure before him slowly advanced. Amid the chaos strewn across the floor, the other man remained impeccably clean, not a single bloodstain tainting even the hem of his clothes.

Yet, in the fallen man’s eyes, this silver-haired figure was the mastermind behind all the carnage. With each step the silver-haired man took toward him, he seemed on the verge of fainting from terror, begging desperately for mercy.

“Please, spare me! I’ll do anything!”

He pleaded ceaselessly. The other simply nodded. Before a look of wild joy could spread across the purple-haired man’s face, the silver-haired man added, “I want to spare you too.”

“But my potion is missing one last ingredient,” he said, holding a vial in which elemental magic was coalescing. “Your family and friends are calling for you. How could you abandon them?”

The silver-haired elf chuckled softly, gazing at the man before him as one might admire a prized ingredient. “Come, reunite with them.”

Having uttered this ominous phrase, the purple-haired man let out a piercing scream as he was drawn into the vial, completing the final surge of magical energy.

The bottle emitted a light, tinkling sound. With a soft pop, the silver-haired elf removed the stopper and drank the overflowing potion in one gulp.

“Thank you for your assistance,” he said. The wounds on his face split open, releasing torrents of magic. One by one, grotesque tendrils r