Psychic Overlord-Chapter 87: Purple Moon

Malek flitted through the night of Al-Rafid, his mind slightly a mess after what he experienced, wondering how things would play out from now on. Even though he had been ’inducted’ into the winning team, that did not mean that everything would be smooth.

On the contrary, the most dangerous part was yet to come.

The manor came into view as he cut through the winding alleyways, its luxurious presence like a beacon in the dark. Even though he had walked these halls for weeks, there was something unsettling about returning tonight.

Malek landed soundlessly on a side balcony, slipping inside and maneuvering through the dim corridors toward the meeting hall. The scent of stale smoke, alcohol, and blood lingered in the air, mixing with the laughter and murmurs of the dark esper group as they loitered.

The moment he stepped into the hall, the room stilled.

Malek felt the weight of their gazes fall upon him like sharpened knives as he responded by straightening his back, keeping his expression neutral as he strode forward.

The main table was occupied by familiar figures... killers, mercenaries, and outlaws. Among them, Vargas, the brute of the group, leaned back in his seat, his massive arms crossed.

Near him was Zafira of the Ancients who gave Malek a quiet, knowing look as she scanned his intact body up and down.

Then there was him.

Azrael sat at the head of the table, clad in simple black, his presence suffocating despite his stillness. His face was obscured by the shadows, but his eyes, like twin abyssal voids, reflected nothing.

Silence reigned for a moment before Vargas broke it with a scoff.

"You’re back already? Don’t tell me you actually managed to do the job that fast? Pfft!" He laughed, loud and derisive.

A few others chuckled along, not fearing Malek at all despite his insidious ability.

Malek exhaled slowly, knowing this was coming.

"I didn’t take the chance," he said plainly.

The response was immediate.

Vargas slammed a fist onto the table, his mirth twisting into a sneer. "You didn’t take the chance to kill any of them?"

Then, the bulky fellow leaned forward menacingly. "Did your balls shrivel up when you saw the so-called ’Overlord’ sleeping? Or did you get cold feet knowing he might make you explode with his mind?"

More laughter rippled through the room.

Malek remained unfazed, but he knew what they were trying to do. They needed someone to mock, someone to tear into to alleviate their own fear towards Overlord, and he had just handed them the perfect excuse.

"I saw that he had placed psychic barriers around his team," Malek began explaining slowly.

"I realized if I took the chance to strike, I would’ve been caught instantly. There was no escape route, no backup plan. I made the right call."

Vargas barked a laugh. "The right call? Running away with your tail between your legs?"

He stood up, towering over Malek, his grin widening as his canines showed. "You had one job. One simple job, and you come crawling back making excuses? Maybe you’re just getting soft."

"Soft?" Malek repeated, his voice even.

He then raised his head to glance back at Vargas calmly. "Or just not suicidal?"

A few mutters ran through the crowd, agreeing with Malek, but Vargas grinned wider, not willing to let this chance to belittle this fellow go.

"Oh? Big talk for a coward. Maybe I should wring that little neck of yours and see if you’re still—"

"Enough."

The room went silent.

Azrael’s voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the air like a blade.

Malek suppressed the instinct to tense as those abyssal eyes turned toward him. There was no emotion, no anger, just the weight of something unreadable pressing down on his very soul.

Azrael tilted his head slightly. "You chose not to act."

It wasn’t a question.

Malek met his gaze, nodding. "Yes."

A long pause.

Then...

"Vargas." Azrael called to his enforcer.

The brute grinned, cracking his knuckles.

"Kill him."

There was no warning nor was there any hesitation as Vargas moved like a beast unleashed, his massive hand lashing out to crush Malek’s throat, flames exploding at the edges of his palms in order to break through the man’s shadowy veil.

Malek was shocked, moving instinctively as he twisted his body, barely dodging the strike as the ex-soldier reached for his dagger, but Vargas was faster. The second blow hit like a truck, sending Malek flying into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.

Pain exploded through his ribs, but Malek had no time to dwell on it as Vargas was already charging with flames exploding behind him to accelerate forward, his face alight with malevolence.

Malek’s mind raced. His true allegiance lay elsewhere, with what he felt was the winning team, so he absolutely couldn’t die here now... and definitely not like this.

He needed to survive, by any means necessary.

However, this ended up being his last thought as a beam of purple light fired from the side, turning his body into a headless corpse that slid down the wall, the stump cauterized, so no blood flowed out.

The face of the charging Vargas changed greatly as he halted his momentum and glanced to the side with sweat forming on his forehead, seeing a young woman with silver hair that was parted into two flows coming out of another room with a cold expression on her face.

She did not even glance at any of the other espers, looking straight at Azrael.

"You’d better have a good reason for commanding his death, he was extremely useful to us." She spoke in a rather deep voice which was slightly less feminine than her looks would suggest.

Azrael’s hollow eyes turned to this woman and even his usually casual and superior expression faltered slightly.

"Purple Moon... fine." He called her name out and decided to explain himself.

After all, she was one of the two other S-class espers along with him, Moira Tenner with the esper name Purple Moon. Her S-class ability was Searing Moonlight, which allowed her to fire purple beams of light that could destroy almost anything.

Azrael glanced at Malek’s dead body. "I keep these A-class weaklings around because despite their power, I can glean something small from their future, including their intentions and their choices."

The A-class ’weaklings’ in the room’s faces changed, becoming ugly as they were openly despised, but there was nothing they could say to refute this as they, more than most other A-class espers, knew the gap between A and S rank.

"For S-grade espers like you or Overlord, I cannot glean even a little bit of information about you nor your peripheral objects. This is something you know very well." Azrael added.

Moira frowned. "Azrael, get to the point, I don’t need to be reminded of the obvious."

"But him... I could sense his actions and choices before he left, but when he came back, his information became cloudy and obscure." Azrael concluded.

The faces of everyone listening changed. Moira’s brows furrowed as she glanced at the corpse.

"He definitely did not upgrade to an S-class esper, if that is even possible. Not to mention he isn’t an impostor because he is still in his form despite death." Moira muttered.

"So like you have just now, I reasoned that the reason for this is likely because he had been assimilated by an S-class esper and in this case... Overlord." Azrael revealed, causing the complexions of his subordinates in the room to pale greatly.

Moira’s eyes flickered. "Hmm, most likely. I don’t understand how Overlord did it, but he has controlled Malek somehow, which means our base is compromised. We have to make preparations for an attack at any time!"

Azrael nodded in agreement. "Get the defenses online and make the troops adopt a properly defensive position. For the next few days, do not let any creature near the manor regardless of affiliation, opting to kill before negotiation!"

"Sure, I’ll tell my people. Also, I will try to pass the message to Bjorn but I cannot make any promises as you know very well how he is." Moira stated coldly before turning to leave, the sound of her high-heeled boots clacking on the manor tiles.

"Hmm..." Azrael grunted, glancing at his three remaining fellows.

"Kain, you are on intelligence duty. Vargas, you are the vanguard defense and Zafira, you are the main support. Do not disgrace me in the upcoming days and you shall receive your just reward." Azrael instructed, waving a hand outward.

The trio shouted out their understanding before moving out with purpose, their expressions grim as they never expected even Malek to be taken down by the powerful Overlord whose presence was becoming more overbearing than usual.

Azrael was quiet for a few seconds before he realized something, glancing to the side where the normal sliders were posted, their expressions unreadable through their balaclava masks. However, their fear was thunderous in Azrael’s ear even if he did not use his ability on them.

He pointed towards Malek’s corpse and spoke imperiously. "Someone come get rid of this trash!"