The Hand of the Abyss descended upon the stands like the fist of a god.
There was no time to scream. No time to flee. The black and red energy swept the section where the knights of Mercius and Eladir were seated, crushing bodies, splintering wood, shattering stone. Those closest evaporated. Those further away flew in pieces. Blood spread like rain.
Silence lasted a second. Then, chaos.
"Run!" someone shouted.
"The exits! The exits are blocked!"
"It's Zirinos! Zirinos is killing us!"
Panic set in. The nobles pushed each other, trampled each other, ran over each other. The children cried. The old men prayed. The soldiers tried to form a barrier, but they had no leader – Linda shouted orders no one heard, Andy wielded his sword, Irina ran toward her daughters.
Zirinos did not move.
He stood in the center of the stage, his hand still raised, the corruption pulsing in his palm. Enyo, awakened by the explosion, squeaked on his shoulder. He did not hear her. His red, empty eyes swept the battlefield like a predator choosing its next prey.
"Daniel," he murmured.
+-+
Daniel Daniarólis ran toward him.
His real steel sword shone in his hand. His face, distorted by rage, shouted insults no one understood.
"Slave! Fucking slave! You'll pay!"
Zirinos did not draw his sword. He only waited.
Daniel attacked. The blow was strong, fast, but Zirinos dodged with a minimal movement. His right hand grabbed Daniel's wrist. His fingers tightened. The bones cracked.
Daniel screamed.
The sword fell.
Zirinos kicked his knees. Daniel fell to his knees. Zirinos's hand released his wrist and grabbed his hair.
"Sorry," said Zirinos, his voice neutral. "I have nothing against you."
Daniel's head separated from his body in a single dry stroke.
The torso fell to the side. Blood gushed. Daniel's eyes, still open, fixed on the sky.
Zirinos wiped his sword on the dead man's tunic.
"The next."
+-+
Néris Truid tried to flee.
The clear-haired girl ran toward the east exit, stumbling on the stones, her hands trembling. Her light blue dress, once beautiful, was now stained with blood – not her own, but that of those who had fallen around her.
Zirinos did not pursue her. He didn't need to.
A splinter of wood, propelled by the explosion of the Hand of the Abyss, hit her in the head.
Néris fell. She did not get up.
Blood ran from her shattered skull, forming a dark pool on the beaten earth.
Zirinos did not even look.
+-+
Lara Semorços stood by the balustrade, her eyes wide, her hands trembling.
"Zirinos," she said, her voice failing. "Zirinos, what are you doing?"
He did not answer.
"Zirinos!"
"Professor," he said finally, his voice low. "Step aside."
"No. I won't step aside. Are you going to kill me? Are you going to kill us all?"
"Yes..."
"This isn't you. Hell..."
"What? Hell made me what I am? I've always been like this, Bitch. I just needed a push."
Lara hesitated. Tears ran down her face.
"I liked you, Zirinos. I liked you as if you were my friend. As if you were more than just a friend! So whyyy???."
Zirinos looked away.
"Sorry, professor."
The sword entered her chest before she could scream.
Lara fell to her knees. Her trembling hands touched the bloodied blade. Her green eyes fixed on his.
"Why?" she whispered.
"I... have to. For my brother! For my sister!"
Zirinos pulled the sword. Lara fell to the side.
Blood ran from her mouth.
She died in silence.
+-+
Endomir ran to the opposite side, trying to save a group of younger students. His gray robes, once immaculate, were now torn and dirty.
"This way!" he shouted. "Run this way!"
The students obeyed. Endomir stayed behind, the wooden sword in his hand, facing Zirinos.
"You can't do this," said Endomir, his voice trembling. "They are innocent."
"No one is innocent," replied Zirinos. "Only the dead."
"Then kill me. But let the others flee."
Zirinos hesitated.
Endomir had always been kind to him. He had never judged him. Never despised him. He was a good man in a cruel world.
The good die first, thought Zirinos. That's the law.
"Sorry, professor."
The blow was quick, almost merciful.
Endomir fell to his knees. The wooden sword fell from his hand. His deep, tired eyes fixed on the sky.
"Thank you," he whispered.
He died with a smile.
+-+
Gregorius Grémul faced Zirinos with a real sword.
His bald head shone with sweat. His small, dark eyes shone with a rage that was not hatred – it was dignity.
"Zirinos!" he roared. "If you're going to kill me, fight like a man!"
"I'm not a man," replied Zirinos. "I'm a law, sir."
Gregorius attacked.
The blows were strong, precise, but Zirinos was faster. He dodged the first, the second, the third. On the fourth strike, Zirinos's sword entered Gregorius's chest.
"You died well," said Zirinos.
"I know," replied Gregorius, his voice failing.
He fell.
He died with his eyes open.
+-+
Alice Marévil knelt, her hands raised, trying to conjure a protection spell.
Her mana – little, unstable – shone in her palm. The wind shield, fragile, barely covered her.
"Zirinos," she said, her voice calm, without fear. "Do you remember what I told you? 'You will go far. Don't lose yourself.'"
"I remember."
"Did you truly lose yourself?"
"I did."
"Then find yourself. It's not too late."
Zirinos hesitated.
Alice was the only person, besides Mira, who had treated him with kindness without expecting anything in return. The only one who had taught him spells without asking for favors. The only one who had hugged him on the day he returned from hell.
You are a good person, Alice, he thought. You don't deserve what is going to happen.
But the sword was already in motion.
Alice did not scream. She did not cry. She only closed her eyes.
The blade entered her chest.
"Sorry, professor," whispered Zirinos.
"Don't cry for me," replied Alice, her last breath. "I don't deserve tears."
She fell.
Zirinos stood still, sword in hand, blood dripping.
One more, he thought. One more.
+-+
Sara Decatry died without seeing the blow.
A splinter of wood, propelled by the explosion of the stand, hit her neck. She fell to her knees. Her trembling hands touched the wound. Blood ran between her fingers.
"Ariny," she called, her voice weak. "Ariny..."
Ariny ran to her. She knelt. She grabbed her hands.
"Sara! Sara, no! Look at me! Look!"
Sara's eyes, once sweet, were now cloudy.
"I like you, sis," she whispered.
"Me too. I like you too. Don't die. Don't die, do you hear?"
Sara did not answer.
Her hand squeezed Ariny's for the last time. Then, it went limp.
Ariny screamed.
The sound echoed across the battlefield.
Zirinos heard it.
He did not stop.
+-+
Ariny tried to flee with Sara's body in her arms.
The platinum-blue haired girl, once proud and distant, now dragged herself on the ground, her legs trembling, her tunic stained with blood.
"Father!" she shouted. "Mother! Anyone!"
No one answered.
Zirinos approached.
"Ariny," he called, his voice low. "Let her go."
"No." She pressed Sara against her chest. "I won't let go. She's my sister."
"She's dead."
"She's not. She can't be."
"She is."
Ariny looked at him. Her blue eyes, once cold, were now red from crying.
"You're a monster," she whispered.
"I know."
The sword entered her breast.
Ariny fell beside Sara. The two sisters, hand in hand, died together.
+-+
Andy and Irina faced Zirinos side by side.
Andy's silver-blue armor shone in the setting sun. Irina's torn robes swayed in the wind. They had no swords – Andy had lost his during the chaos, Irina had never used one. Only their empty hands.
"Zirinos," said Andy, his voice calm. "You can still stop."
"I can't."
"You can. You choose not to. This world is already doomed! Are you going the same way?"
"It's the same thing. Besides, shouldn't be killing me? Look" he pointed to the dead sisters. "Dead! Your beautiful daughters are dead!"
Andy advanced, enraged. Zirinos dodged. Zirinos's sword entered Andy's arm – not deep, but enough to unbalance him.
"Andy!" shouted Irina.
She ran to him. She hugged him. Her trembling hands touched his face.
"Don't cry," said Andy. "I don't deserve tears."
"You do. You deserve all the tears."
Zirinos hesitated.
They are like me, he thought. They lost everything. They love each other.
But I will kill them anyway.
The sword entered Andy's chest. Then Irina's. The two fell embraced.
"Sorry," whispered Zirinos. "For the strongest women in this world you are... pretty pathetic."
They died hand in hand.
+-+
Ana ran forward, the mark of Anorys shining on her chest.
"Bastard!" she shouted. "Look at me!"
Zirinos turned.
"Ana..."
"Don't speak. Fight, bastard!"
The divine power – unstable, chaotic – surged from the mark. A red and black light, intense, hit Zirinos's shoulder. The skin burned. Blood ran.
"Does it hurt?" asked Ana.
"It does."
"Good."
The second blast was weaker. The third, weaker still. The fourth did not come.
"No..." Ana whispered, looking at the mark. "No, no, no..."
"It's over," said Zirinos. "The divine power doesn't work."
"It can't be over."
"It is."
Ana looked at him. Her brown eyes, once cold, were now wet.
"Kill me, slave," she said trying to find Ethan. "I don't want to die by a stranger's hand."
"I'm not a stranger."
"You are. My idiot. My..."
She did not finish.
Zirinos cut her throat.
Ana fell to her knees. Her trembling hands touched the wound. Blood ran between her fingers.
"I... wanted Eth...," she whispered.
She fell to the side.
She died with her eyes open.
+-+
Linda Lunos tried to protect her daughter.
The marchioness, with silver-white hair, knelt, her arms open in front of Luna. Zirinos's sword shone in the half-light.
"Don't touch her," said Linda, her voice firm. "She's my daughter."
"I..."
"She's all I have left."
"I... know."
"Then why..."
"I need to do this."
Zirinos killed Linda with a blow to the chest.
She fell to the side. Blood ran from her mouth.
"Luna," she whispered, her last breath. "Run..."
She said no more.
+-+
Luna did not run.
The silver-haired girl leaned against the broken balustrade, her clear eyes fixed on Zirinos. Her amputated arm, wrapped in dirty cloths, hurt – not physically, but in her soul.
Her remaining hand pressed against her chest.
Zirinos approached.
"Luna," he called, his voice low.
She did not answer. She could not. Her voice had not returned since she had woken from the coma. Only her eyes – clear, empty – where fear mingled with sadness.
"Sorry," said Zirinos.
She trembled.
Tears ran down her face. Silent. Hot.
Zirinos knelt beside her. His bloodied sword weighed in his hand.
"Do you remember the night we danced?" he asked. "There was no music. Only the fire. And you leaned your head on my shoulder."
Luna did not answer. But her eyes shone – not with fear, but with memory.
"I liked that night," said Zirinos. "I liked you."
Her remaining hand touched his face. Her cold fingers weighed.
Zirinos closed his eyes.
"Sorry."
The sword entered her chest.
Luna did not scream. She did not cry. She only looked at him with clear, empty eyes, where fear slowly faded.
She fell to the side.
Her silver hair spread across the stone floor.
She died in silence.
Zirinos knelt beside her, sword in hand, blood dripping.
"Sorry," he repeated.
But Luna no longer heard.
+-+
The sun began to hide behind the mountains when Zirinos stood up.
The battlefield was covered in bodies. The stands, destroyed. The banners, burned. The smell of blood and death hung in the air like a black cloud.
Zirinos looked around.
Andy and Irina, embraced. Sara and Ariny, hand in hand. Ana, eyes open. Linda, mouth open. Luna, silver hair spread on the ground. The teachers. The students. The soldiers. The servants.
All dead.
All by his hand.
Enyo squeaked softly.
"Be quiet," whispered Zirinos. "It's not over yet."
His head began to hurt. The masked one's voice, distant, whispered something he could not understand.
Destroy everything.
Zirinos raised his hand. Corruption accumulated in his palm – black, red, pulsing.
One spell. Just one. And Endomyar would cease to exist.
He hesitated.
The setting sun illuminated the corpses. The cold wind brought the smell of blood.
Mira, he thought. Luna. Lysara. All the ones I killed.
And all the ones I will kill.
His hand closed.
The corruption dissipated.
"Not yet," said Zirinos, aloud. "Not yet."
The massacre had ended.