So, at this moment, William Carter was also pushing all the potential within his body to the limit. He was like a machine, ruthlessly squeezing out every bit of energy.

Weapons flashed continuously, and one blade after another became nothing but worthless scrap metal in his hands.

His physical strength was being rapidly depleted, and even his mental power began to fluctuate and grow unstable—this was a sign that his weapons were being consumed too quickly in a short period of time.

William Carter immediately stopped. He took a deep breath, his gaze suddenly sharpening as he caught sight of something.

It was a cylinder—the very thing Grace Bolton had used against him. When Grace Bolton had kicked the weapon, the pain was so intense that he had tossed the object aside without thinking, and it had unexpectedly landed here.

William Carter's heart stirred. Almost involuntarily, he reached out and wrapped it up with his weapon.

Item: Fire Command Talisman.

Grade: Magical Tool (?)

Attribute: Devour +1.

Fire Command Talisman—what was that? The thought flashed through William Carter's mind, but he immediately dismissed it.

Detected extractable component. Extract?

Extract.

The next moment, as the weapon dissipated, the only attribute on the Fire Command Talisman—Devour—had already turned into a small purple orb and entered his mind. Even stranger, as soon as the Devour attribute disappeared, the cylinder instantly crumbled.

It didn’t just break apart; it simply turned into a pile of powder before William Carter's eyes and vanished without a trace.

Normally, William Carter might have been shocked, but at this moment, he merely glanced at it and put it out of his mind.

A look of determination flashed in his eyes. William Carter gritted his teeth, and his weapon flashed again.

Detected upgradeable component. Upgrade?

Upgrade.

In one go, he released all the accumulated purple orbs in his mind onto the first broken blade he had picked out.

The next moment, a brand-new broken blade appeared in his hand.

Item: Supreme-grade Broken Blade.

Grade: Mortal Tool, Fine Quality, First Tier.

Attributes: Sharpness +6, Hardness +6, Devour +1, Durability 6.

Chapter 7: One Strike, One Kill

Grace Bolton hopped step by step toward his target, his footsteps landing heavily, like the beating of a great drum, striking directly at the heart. This slow approach brought even greater psychological pressure.

His face was twisted and terrifying, the hatred in his eyes almost tangible.

From childhood to now, under the protection of his family, he had never suffered such a loss. Moreover, deep in his heart, there was an inexplicable fear. How could that kid have activated his weapon so quickly? With such talent, he might become another old master craftsman in the future.

Someone like that, once he becomes fixated and turns against you, is bound to be a huge problem. Since that’s the case, it’s better to kill him now, before he has a chance to grow.

He gripped the short blade in his hand tightly. He hadn’t picked it up for courage, but to be ready to throw it like a dagger at any moment.

Under his uncle’s guidance, he had trained in the art of hidden weapons. It wouldn’t work against a battle-hardened warrior, but if aimed at a terrified, fleeing youngster, it was sure to hit the mark.

The dull ache in his leg distracted him for a moment. Thinking of his injured leg, he gritted his teeth in hatred, vowing that only by killing William Carter could he rid himself of this resentment.

As for what to do after killing William Carter—how to clean up the aftermath and escape unnoticed—he no longer cared.

Slowly, he hopped over to the pile of discarded weapons. His ears twitched slightly; he could already hear faint breathing.

With a cold laugh, Grace Bolton said, “Kid, come out and accept your death!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Grace Bolton saw a figure leap out from behind the pile of weapons. A flash of white light followed, slashing at him wildly and without technique.

Although his leg was injured, his eyesight was unaffected. He immediately saw that the figure was the timid William Carter, and in his hand was a broken blade.

That’s right—the discarded weapon that was already half broken, missing even the blade tip.

If William Carter had a brand-new military knife, he might have been a bit wary. But a mere broken blade—how could he take it seriously?

In that instant, Grace Bolton judged that the kid was just making a desperate last stand, grabbing any broken blade to fight with.

Grace Bolton wore a look of disdain and raised his short blade to meet the attack.

If William Carter had tried to run, he would have killed him immediately. But since the kid still had a bit of courage, he didn’t mind playing along. At that moment, countless punishments flashed through Grace Bolton’s mind. First, he would sever all the tendons in William Carter’s hands and feet, destroy his vocal cords, and let him die in agony.

At this thought, even the pain in his leg seemed to lessen considerably.