Rise Of The Godking 72 Justice 2

Daneel stabbed the stomach of a woman dressed in a pink gown. She gasped onto his face, hot breath stinging his cheeks while her blood flowed down his hand and turned her clothes a glaring crimson.

'Am I getting a tad too… I dunno, killhungry?'

As she collapsed to the floor, he stepped past her, glancing once at the two dead dwarves she had been torturing on the street, shouting commands to her personal guards whom he had killed first, while she had lain whimpering to the side.

If he had thought that the pa.s.sing of so much time might have calmed down the town, he had been wrong. As if they had found the perfect opportunity to satiate their deepest, darkest desires, many of the n.o.bles had taken to the streets, chasing and hunting the dwarves who had been left behind as they either hadn't heard the call for retreat, or had been captured by the enforcers.

He went to the next street and found an even bloodier scene. The next few seconds were a blur with him abusing his aura to render his enemies weak and ready for the slaughter, and when he once again paused while the blood from a n.o.ble's neck gushed onto his clothes, he thought, 'Er… yeah, something is wrong. I have killed my fair share of cruel folk back on Angaria… but I wasn't this bloodthirsty, right? System? Any answers?'

Before he could hear its response, a sniffling sound from somewhere nearby made the rage drown everything else, again. Running in its direction, he saw a child wearing the garb of a slave being toyed with by three children who were all n.o.bles.

He studied the scene for a moment, still undiscovered as he was at the corner of the street. The slave was a girl. Her long hair was constantly being pulled by the teenagers who got close to her. She was groped, too, and one of them tried to pull away her robes, resulting in them ripping and exposing her bony legs.

They laughed when they saw her run and huddle up against the wall. Making lewd comments, they stepped forward, determined this time to overpower her, and do as they wished.

With a snarl, unable to control himself, he sprang forward, the knife whistling in the air as it flew towards the n.o.ble closest to him.

He was able to stop at the last moment. The kid had frozen, eyes as wide as saucers as he saw the blade at his neck that had already drawn a trickle of blood, and while looking into that terrified face, Daneel finally snapped out of it once again.

'Okay, enough! Something is definitely wrong! System, give me the answer again!'

[Responding to host. Host created a connection with the weak Will of the World by caring for those born to it. It appears that the Will has been constantly witnessing the atrocities against its people, which has led to it taking on a vengeful nature. When host uses its power and controls the magic of this world through it, host also gives into its viciousness, which years for the deaths of the oppressors. Hence, host has been trapped in a bloodthirsty frenzy directed at the chief abusers of power in the town. Host has managed to withdraw from the vengeful miasma, now. However, if the power of the Will of the World is used once more, host will be taken under its control again.]

With a shudder, he let go of the knife and let it clutter to the pavement. The n.o.bles all looked at him, and from the way their faces went completely pale, he realized that he must definitely be cutting a gruesome figure.

He saw it in the eyes of the one he had been about to kill. He was almost completely drenched in blood, his face a deep red due to the dried gore it had been plastered with again and again. Bits of men and women clung to his clothes that were completely unrecognizable from what they had been before. Even his teeth were b.l.o.o.d.y, but he had been ignoring it until now; it was only when he noticed this that he was able to taste the saltiness, which made him stagger to the side and retch.

By the time he stopped the bile from rising to his throat, he looked up and saw that the n.o.bles had run away. It was a wise decision, all in all. He looked like such a demon that even the one he had come to save stared at him as if he was the G.o.d of death come to take her away from the cruel world, but with a smile, he tried to approach her and tell her that it was alright.

Screaming, she ran away, too, leaving Daneel with his hand outstretched and a sheepish face.

'One might think that after experiencing so much, I would be hard-pressed to find something that could still surprise me… but if so, then they are very, very wrong. As the G.o.dking, again, I thought that it was time to completely take control… but I've been used! It's not a bad thing, though… and really, who could have guessed that the Will of the World, which is supposed to be an impartial force like nature, can grow vengeful? Well, I guess torture and death have been the specialties of this town for far too long…'

Taking support from a nearby wall, he gasped for breath, suddenly realizing that he was extremely exhausted. He was still only a Neophyte, after all, and he had been going from street to street, n.o.ble to n.o.ble, enforcer to enforcer, stabbing them or hammering them to death, sometimes even getting into fights just for the heck of it even if he could use the aura to make them stretch forth their necks willingly.

He didn't even know how long had pa.s.sed since he had come to the surface. The difference was that the town was a lot quieter than when he had approached it before, when his sanity had still been more or less intact… but since then, all he remembered was a vague whirl of screams and death and destruction.

'Alright… I have to be careful, from here on. I've got to remember that this is a new world, where I can still be blindsided quite easily…'

Regaining his breath, he tried to stand up and gather his bearings. As he looked all around, he realized that he was near the center of the town, where he had woken up on that first, fateful day.

He trudged forward, wondering about something he hadn't noticed until now. What were slaves doing here, anyway? Had they already been pulled into the confrontation?

His question was answered when he pa.s.sed the building, and came upon the paved clearing. His breath stopped, his mind went blank, and his eyes went wide when he saw what was waiting for him.

The gibbet he had climbed on that first day had grown. It stretched out in front of him, and above it were the dangling legs of over twenty slaves and workers from the Refinery, all of them having been hanged some time before.

In front of them all stood the two sons of the master. With smug smiles, they were addressing the crowd of n.o.bles gathered in front of them.

Daneel had been unconsciously been filtering out the sound until now. He focused as he wanted to know what they were saying, and with each word that he heard, the red haze from before grew stronger and stronger, calling to him to give himself up once more.

"—should have hanged so many more, but that will follow soon, don't worry! My father is rounding them up as we speak… and then, we'll have enough bodies to line this entire clearing!"

"Exactly! They possess the freedom to breathe and live because of our kindness, but they dare to rise up against us! All slaves, and all the workers in the Refinery are fair game! There must be a limit set, of course… but apart from that, we should be able to hunt whoever we wish so that it will stand as a warning to the rest!"

There were cheers from the n.o.bles, many of whom were surrounded by teams of personal guards, all holding blades and batons ready to be used on the innocent folk standing nearby.

Daneel saw now that the depravity of this place was at a much deeper level than he had ever thought. As he had spent most of his innocent life utterly obsessed with himself, and because he hadn't really had the time to bother with the n.o.bles after his fall from grace, he hadn't seen how bad it was… but now, it was arrayed in front of him clearly, reminding him of a very similar scene from his past.

The difference was that these n.o.bles were even crueler. To them, those from the layers below were just cattle, born to be raised, used, and slaughtered, if they wished.

The red haze sung its lonely call, pleading him, imploring him to give himself up one last time, to end what he had begun, to settle the debts of the Will, to herald a new age for Graiton, one that it deserved after being enslaved for so long.

He sighed. He was a bit reluctant after seeing what he had just done, but he still gave in.

After all, what could he do? He had always been a sucker for lost causes…and evil b.a.s.t.a.r.ds begging to be killed.

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