Chapter 53: Final Results
Slaughter. No other word fit.
The broodlings weren't faster. They weren't stronger. Their stats matched the humans, give or take. But they killed like it was instinct—born for it, bred for it. Every strike split bodies open. Every laugh drowned out the screams.
'They're enjoying themselves.'
Azakh-Tur felt a flicker of pride. His spawn were thriving in blood.
Dirk only felt crushed. He swung until his shoulders burned, hammers arcing in wide sweeps, sparks bursting off stone when he missed. He fought like a man drowning, flailing in water too deep. Not a single blow landed. Not one person saved.
"Come at me, you fucks! Leave them—fight me! Come on!... please!"
The demons didn't even turn their heads. They had orders. Azakh-Tur wanted Dirk alive. Wanted him to watch.
System light tore through the broodlings as they leveled mid-slaughter.
Pain drove his claws through a man's jaw, bones snapping like wet twigs as he lifted the body high and hammered it into the ground until the skull collapsed.
The last survivor besides Dirk was pinned under Panic. One claw held his skull steady while the other peeled the lips from his face with his dagger, strip by strip, forcing a smile carved into flesh.
Dirk roared, leaping at him.
"Stop!"
Panic didn't even flinch. He trusted his broodmate.
"Fucking—!"
Weight smashed into Dirk's back with a grunt, clawed feet digging deep, holding him down like an animal for slaughter. Pain yanked his head up by the hair, forcing his eyes open.
He was forced to watch as the wounded man screamed, voice gurgling through blood. Panic giggled over him, leaning close, tongue drilling into the eye socket, fishing and wrapping.
He slurped something out.
And swallowed.
"Jin! Jin! You bastard, get off him!"
Dirk thrashed, but it was useless. Claws pinned him flat. Despair pressed down like stone. The truth bled through him...this was his fault. Every scream, every drop of blood.
"I take it back! Just stop! I'm sorry, boss! I was wrong!"
Pain laughed, a low rumble that shook through Dirk's skull. Panic didn't pause, didn't even look up, his blade kept slicing, peeling, carving meat from bone.
Lynn and John stood frozen, pale, sweat dripping down their temples.
And through it all, Azakh-Tur walked closer. Bathed in bloodlight. Smiling.
"Your convictions crumble so easily? Is it because they're your friends?"
He crouched, face inches away, eyes catching every twitch, every flinch.
"Just stop, please. I'll do whatever you want."
Azakh-Tur tilted his head.
"What if what I want is for you all to die? What then?"
Dirk froze. The voice was flat. Empty. This wasn't revenge. Not punishment. No anger. No purpose. Their deaths had been sealed the moment they entered.
"...Go to hell."
Azakh-Tur's brow lifted. Approval flickered. He straightened and pointed with a cleaver.
"You two. Here."
It took a heartbeat for Lynn and John to realize. Then they ran.
"Yes, Boss Wohan!"
"Yes, Boss Wohan!"
They snapped to attention, trembling, faces torn between awe, fear, and revulsion.
Dirk's rage boiled.
"Cowards! Traito—!"
Pain slammed his skull, teeth cracking against rock. When his head was yanked back up, his vision blurred red. Through it he caught Jin's body, limp under Panic's claws. Still twitching from the abuse, but empty. Relief flickered...at least he was dead.
At least the suffering had stopped.
Azakh-Tur watched his second spawn work, tilting his head like a butcher checking the cut of his apprentice.
"You've got a talent for murder, Panic. Kept him breathing alot longer than I could."
Panic froze mid-slice. His mouth trembled before breaking into a grin. He bowed low, voice quivering with pleasure.
"Thank you, boss. I'll work hard to do better."
Pain snorted.
Azakh-Tur's hand clamped the other broodling's skull, patting it once. Rivalry was good. Hatred wasn't.
"You too. Those slams—keeping the head from seperating? Not easy."
Pain groaned, almost crushing Dirk's skull under his claws before he forced himself to let go.
"I, too, will work harder for the boss."
"Good."
Extremely satisfied with his broodlings, his gaze slid past them, bloodlight rising from his skin like smoke. Butcher's Wrath pointed to Lynn and John—
"Now. You two—"
Then, the last survivor.
Seeing the blade pointed at his face, Dirk's breath hitched, blood leaking down his forehead. Tears cut through it, streaking down into the mess on his chin. He didn't want to die here. Not like this—
"Kill him, and you live. You have ten—"
BANG!
A gunshot cracked before the words finished.
Not for nothing...
Everyone jerked, except Seo-jin...and Lynn. She lowered her pistol, holstered it without pause, and looked up at him. Her eyes shone with raw devotion.
"Anything for the Boss!"
[Potential for mental instability...high.]
'I like her. Let's see how far she can go.'
Seo-jin's eyes fixed on John. Silent. Waiting. John's bald head glowed with sweat. He glanced from Dirk's scattered brains to his boss's glowing eyes, panic climbing his throat.
"I—she just—I was gonna—I'm sorry, Boss. Next time I—"
"Why did you betray your friends?"
Azakh-Tur cut him off, his tone flat. Pain's chewing filled the silence, bone splintering in wet cracks. John flinched at every bite.
"They weren't my friends, and I didn't betray them. They betrayed my boss."
Azakh-Tur's stare lingered, then he nodded once.
"Good with words. You may follow. For now."
Relief broke through John's face. His knees almost buckled.
Taking a moment to study the man, Seo-jin's nostrils flared.
"Opportunist. Greed. I smell it on you. Not for money... Power. This is what you want. Am I wrong?"
John froze, then his face set. The question didn't shake him, it nailed his conviction into place.
"Y—Yes Boss—I mean, No! You're not wrong. I just thought… if-if you could gain strength through a contract, maybe I could too. Demon, angel—I don't care. I'm sick of fear. I want it to be the other way around. I...I want them to be afraid of me."
The words spilled before he could catch them. His eyes flicked down, shame cutting late.
Azakh-Tur's grin was slight.
"That hunger, I respect. But understand—following me is more likely to kill you than empower you. I don't easily hand out charity. Decide now. And this time, if you walk, neither I, nor my brood, will touch you."
A pause. Then his eyes shifted.
"Neither will Lynn."
He glanced at her. The girl flushed, swallowing the heat in her throat.
John shook, veins beating hard in his skull. His whole body felt inside out, like he'd already been gutted. But his mouth moved anyway. No hesitation.
"I'll follow the Boss. Even after I'm dead. I swear it on my soul."
It wasn't Seo-jin, but Azakh-Tur who laughed—deep, jagged. It scraped the room raw. Lynn's chest tightened at the sound, torn between thrill and dread. John wanted to collapse but forced himself upright. If one laugh could break them this far, what would more do? Both wanted answers.
'...Too bad. Would have been worth using Desecrate to see the look on his face.'
He didn't need to touch him to kill him.
[System // Notification]
[Warning // Corruption Exposure Critical // Madness Imminent]
'Shit. Forgot about that. Hold on—maybe I should...no, not here. Later.'
Butcher's Wrath bled back into his arms, flesh swallowing steel. The sight and sound of it—mostly the sound, was finally too much for John as he gagged, stomach heaving until vomit hit the floor.
Perched over his meal, Pain stilled. His wrist twisted, grinding Dirk's liver to pulp between his fingers. He cocked his head, lips pulling back into a sneer.
"Weak."
At the same time—Panic convulsed, his face twisting as a coil of intestine burst from his mouth.
"Idiot!"
The outburst cracked the air. Then, just as sudden, he snapped back, face slack, eyes distant, dagger picking at his teeth like nothing had happened.
Heaving a few more times, John's stomach emptied in sour gushes. Wiping his mouth, he tried to push himself upright, but the world ripped away beneath him. Seo-jin had yanked him skyward in a blur, up the slick wall to the waterfall's lip. Before his brain caught up, his body was already flung down into the rushing stream.
The impact stunned him, cold swallowing his lungs. Lynn knelt beside him, and only then did he realize...the Boss had thrown them into the hollow he'd spoke of.
"You'll stay here. I'll find you when the dungeon's cleared."
"But I can hel—"
"Do as you're told. You have no other use."
Lynn snapped silent. Her cheeks flushed...but not from shame. Shame didn't make you smile.
[Confirmed. Mental instability detected.]
'Obvious. I'll play with her later.'
He turned, growths grinding their teeth, twitching.
"Don't move."
He dropped into the dark.
"Yes, Boss!"
"Yes, Boss!"
The broodlings ran up to him as he landed, eyes glowing and bloodlight dripping.
"Find more prey."
Azakh-Tur ordered, and his spawn reveled in his command. It was time for the hunt.
As they left, the chamber behind stank of ruin. Six corpses bled into the puddles, ruined faces locked in terror. Six offerings to the Brood.
Only the two above remained alive. Alive, but broken. One feared. One hoped. One worshiped. One on the brink.
This was a truth. Other entities never touched demonkind without tainting themselves, without eventually corrupting into something else. Azakh-Tur was no exception...and he knew this. Soon, they would know it.
And as the first demon possessing a shard stalked deeper, soul-sense burning, he let his thoughts slip out in a rasp.
"Humans are fun…"