I want to kill. [ Grasp Heart ]
The punching meat bag died, its strings had been cut. Then resurrected by Demiurge.
I want to maim. Boosted Magic: [ Grasp Heart ]
The punching meat bag collapsed again, all of its orifices were gushing with blood. Then resurrected by Demiurge again.
I want to eviscerate someone. Boosted Maximized Magic: [ Grasp Heart ]
The punching meat bag's upper torso almost exploded, its entire ribcage had collapsed, and it dropped down to its stomach. It hung lifelessly on the wooden stake, its limbs chained behind the stake, fully stretching its limbs, the skin and muscle straining against the restrictions.
I want to destroy someone absolutely. Boosted Maximized Over Magic: [ Grasp Heart ]
The punching meat bag exploded, truly exploded. Only bits and gore were left. What was the name of this meat bag again? Naofumi? I forget. All I knew was that it didn't surrender, chose to fight, and almost killed Narberal Gamma.
The emotion suppression took effect.
The suppression accomplished little, yet taking action did help vent some of my frustration, particularly when the subject of my venting deserved it.
I turned my back against the meat bag, no longer interested since it was broken. It was alive, breathing and gasping, but not quite mentally there. Shalltear captured this meat bag, but its allies remained elusive.
It was another ragtag group.
This time, I wasn't overly careful. I ordered a full hunt of that new group or band of survivors. However, they managed to escape to another level. The hunt remained, an absolutely endless hunting party of the undead.
The new group will eventually get tired, even if they can kill hundreds of undead parties. Shalltear was now charged with tracking down the meat bag's allies: a loud young man with a strange, transformative spear, the I-am-atomic young man, and a small flying child with an old imperial-style military uniform and rifle.
For the time being, they remained distant problems.
I teleported to the throne room, then collapsed my whole figure on it and stared at the emblems of my former teammates. A wave of disappointment and anger washed over me; I had let my teammates down.
The emotion suppression took effect.
It still hardly did anything.
I slammed my clenched fist against the armrest, producing a loud, echoing thud. Albedo, already at my side, flinched. She kept quiet, however, all too aware of the predicament that Nazarick was in.
That stupid, shitty, goddamned second-rate necromancer Jin Woo Sung thinks he can flee and avoid the consequences of his actions? I don't think so. Demiurge was doing everything he could, wringing out every bit of information from both the prisoners and the thresholds.
There were still some rotting carcasses of Async lying around in the first level, the backrooms; maybe they can provide more insight about this whole place. I held off on resurrecting them due to resource constraints, but after knowing that the wretched criminals have escaped, all bets are off. The prisoners were now under heavy and extensive interrogation, erasing their few liberties.
Another sigh. Albedo noticed but kept quiet.
What would the NPCs think if I let this whole predicament go, or if I couldn't solve it? A coup? Will they dethrone me? Destroy my position and denounce me? My mind boggled as I thought of each possible consequence and its effects.
My head ached. The emotion suppression took effect.
My mind swirled. The emotion suppression took effect.
Still, hardly anything, the constant suppression was becoming annoying. I couldn't think straight or well because my mood kept interrupting me. My fury was on even grounds with the emotional suppression trait.
An undead, experiencing the stresses of a living being, the thresholds were taking their heavy toll on my being. The reasonable side of me wanted to leave the thresholds completely, lick our wounds, and accept that the three maids were gone. Accept the fact that Nazarick tasted defeat and will learn from it.
Accept the fact that we were powerless for once, and that was just a part of life.
Accept the fact that Jin Woo Su-
"THAT STUPID SECOND-RATE NECROMANCER. I WILL GUT HIS STOMACH AND PUT HIS HEAD ON DISPLAY." My emotion flared with the mere thought of Sung-bastard.
The emotion suppression took effect.
A small sigh escaped from my mouth.
Lupusregina Beta.
Solution Epsilon.
Entoma Vasilissa Zeta.
All three maids, all three of my children, all three loyal servants of Nazarick. Now gone, their traces and souls, usurped by a shitty necromancer with shitty powers and with an ugly face.
The emotion suppression took effect.
Now, as for the vengeful side of me.
I no longer cared about the massive costs, both future and present. Nazarick's pride and name had been shattered and violated, and the perpetrators were getting off scot free. I intended to correct that conclusion; I will not hesitate to scorch everything to get them.
"We are in a state of total war. Totalen Krieg."
Jin Woo Sung. An eternal cycle of pain and torture awaited him. I will not let him die even if his mind broke from the pain. There were a lot of spells to replenish sanity or stabilize the mind. That kind of resource was plentiful. I will personally watch as Neuronist Painkill has her way with him.
The pulling of his fingernails, the castration of his manhood, the burning of his tongue, the insertion of a hot rod up in his sphincter, the never-ending regeneration of kidney stones, the ulcers of his organs, and the full healing or restoration to do it all over again.
Reinhard van Astrea. A forced thrall, indentured servitude awaited that stupid crimson-haired knight. I didn't care much for this retarded man. Cocytus and Pandora's Actor had already killed him once. They can do it again with Sebas or Shalltear joining in on the next possible encounter.
Bare simple strategies, all tactics, just ganging up on that knight. Teaming was indeed a perfectly acceptable strategy. If he resurrects, kill him again and again until the resurrection ability runs out. "No one lives forever."
The emotion suppression took effect.
The last time I had felt this kind of violation and offense was when Shalltear was mind-controlled by a world item: a product of my carelessness. Now that I think about it, we never really did find out who was responsible. The NPCs, protected by their World Items, were too busy glassing and destroying everything to the point that they didn't ask questions.
The mistakes I had made, I thought, I had learned from. Well, clearly not considering what was happening right now. Demiurge slowly approached, well aware of my fury, yet kept his calm demeanor.
"Demiurge," I spoke first as I glanced at my bony fingers, focusing on one special ring. Demiurge remained quiet, grinning heavily.
"Have you thought of the proper wording of the wish to replicate the dimensional transportation? [ Wish Upon A Star ] needs precise wording and intent."
(The next chapter is the new ragtag group. Can you guess who they are and their names? Hehehehe.)