Having emptied one vial of injection, Palmer took out another and plunged it into Morrison’s body.

He raised his eyebrows and said with a tone of envy, "But who doesn’t want to be a movie protagonist?"

"The outdated noble spirit influences me. I am the heir to the Clarks, how can I be like him, rolling in the mud like a desperate outlaw?" 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Palmer muttered to himself, "Well, at times, I am indeed outrageous, but I still can’t understand him..."

The cold gaze locked with Morrison’s.

"Now I understand."

"If even the flames of revenge must be bound by red tape, then these flames are indeed worthless."

Palmer agreed with Bologue’s philosophy, "This is not a perverted pleasure, but a belated judgment, vowing to punish the wicked with the most cruel penalty."

Palmer stood up, tidied his collar, and his towering shadow completely enveloped Morrison.

"Thinking this way, all our actions are virtuous deeds."

Palmer appeared as if enlightened, kicked the Secret Sword to Morrison’s side, took a few steps back, widening the distance.

"Although my partner seems to be a cold-faced murder fanatic, he’s actually quite kind-hearted. Knowing you’re a Negative Power User, he feared I couldn’t kill you, so he specifically crippled you, then handed you over to me for execution."

Palmer shook his head, "This isn’t right, it makes it look like he’s avenging me."

Morrison seized the Secret Sword, outwardly calm, but inwardly mocking Palmer’s foolishness.

The Ether supplement given by Palmer wasn’t enough to restore Morrison to his peak state. Bologue is just too strong. If I weren’t here, Bologue might have split open Morrison with one axe.

"Stand up, Morrison," Palmer shouted, "Revenge is something one must carry out personally, isn’t it?"

Morrison yanked out the Flying Knife pinning his palm, gripped the Secret Sword, and shakily stood up.

"You’ll regret this," he whispered.

Mang Silver Soul only supplemented a small amount of Ether, but one must know, Morrison is a Negative Power User. Only in a balanced battle is Ether exhausted to depletion; otherwise, true victory can be decided in moments.

The wings of Light Feather spread open behind Morrison, illuminating Palmer’s face. Rustling sounds emerged as several blood-stained figures pushed aside stone slabs and climbed out of the rubble with difficulty.

Seeing this scene, Morrison almost laughed; Palmer’s arrogance would be his downfall.

Palmer’s expression remained unchanged; he only muttered to himself.

"Who even remembers that I was the best rookie of the year?"

A glaring white storm swirled in Palmer’s eyes.

Gale force winds ravaged the earth, dust stirred, and exposed vines swayed uncertainly in the hurricane; Palmer waved his hand, and with his gesture, the direction and speed of the wind began to change.

Suddenly, a sharp Wind Blade struck a nearby Condenser; he had just crawled out of the rubble, grateful for his survival. But in an instant, the high-speed Wind Blade sliced open his calf, blood gushed out instantly, and his nightmare was far from over as more Wind Blades spun through, piercing his chest.

Amidst painful moans, a Wind Blade lightly grazed the enemy’s arm, severing muscle and tendons; bright red blood surged out like a scarlet flame.

Morrison suddenly realized that he might have misjudged Palmer.

An even stronger storm rose up, engulfing the entire battlefield; billowing dust wrapped around as darkness akin to a sandstorm obscured vision completely.

Accompanied by the sharp sound of winds, a strong gust swept towards Morrison. He swung his Light Feather trying to escape, but under the control of the even stronger storm, airflow became chaotic, unable to provide enough lift. He could only stand upon the cracked earth.

Their Secret Energy taught different schools and priorities were entirely different. Palmer commandeered the airflow in this region, Morrison’s wings could no longer dance.

Morrison couldn’t find Palmer’s Ether response; vast amounts of Ether filled the storm; it could be said Palmer was the storm itself at that moment.

How could Light Feather pierce through the storm?

Like being sucked into a giant whirlpool, Morrison found it inescapable; the Wind Blade grew fiercer and quicker.

Morrison saw a frail figure teetering in the storm; he looked at Morrison, raised his hand as if to appeal for help.

The sound of iron echoed in the storm; Storm Feather disintegrated, endless Flying Knives merged into the storm, suddenly ripped open a huge wound in that figure’s chest. Through the laceration, fine blood vessels were shattered by the pressure of the Wind Blade.

Pressure dropped, breathing became increasingly difficult, more Wind Blades mixed with Flying Knives arrived, and bones and muscle couldn’t withstand such devastating attacks, instantly cut into pieces.

The frail body began to tremble, unable to endure the immense pain; the entire body was stunned by the storm, screams seemed endless, then he fell to the ground with no hint of life remaining.

The corpse was lifted by the wind, swept into the sky, brutally shredded and sliced, with terror and pain lingering, chilling all.

"Hidden for so long, huh!"

Morrison roared; at this moment, he realized Palmer was no one to underestimate. During the previous battle, he seemed to deliberately conceal his strength.