As Mark made his way to the tunnels, he couldn't help but wonder to himself how these things had happened without him being the wiser.
"If only he had just listened then and joined me to serve at the consulate, all this would not be happening... sigh... Then again, that fat bastard actually requested for his sister to serve him personally. Ugh, thinking of it makes me sick."
Mark swiftly arrived at the forest's edge near the entrance of a tunnel that ran down in another direction.
"Now where could he have gone? Knowing Jacob, he probably won't leave without his sister, so I should probably check the tunnels first. But then again, his sister is also missing, so it's possible they've already left."
As Mark was deciding which direction to search first, he didn't notice the deep black eyes observing him from within the forest. Eventually, he decided to enter the tunnels first; then, if he didn't find them, he'd enter the forest.
However, after he turned his body to advance towards the tunnel, he froze. His entire neural network short-circuited, disrupting both autonomic and sympathetic nervous systems. He momentarily forgot how to breathe, as if he was under Ondine's curse. His legs kept buckling furiously, seemingly about to give up at any time but didn't know-how. He lost control of his bowel movement and soiled himself both in front and back.
Eventually, his eyeballs popped, allowing blood to flow ceaselessly out of them. Not just his eyes, but blood continued to leak out of all his orifices. In the end, he couldn't withstand the torture he was going through and died even while still standing. It wasn't until his consciousness left his body that it fell to the ground. All he could think all through the few seconds of hell he experienced was,
"D'yavol."
The creature that had appeared in front of Mark looked at his corpse in confusion, tilting its head to the side. The creatures it had encountered within the tunnel didn't die like this. But after a second, it appeared not to care as it picked Mark up by his ankle, then grabbed his torso with its other hand and began pulling apart the corpse, stuffing it into its mouth.
Its eyes sparkled; it tasted exactly like its first meal, only a little stale, but that didn't matter; it loved the taste regardless. It quickly finished its meal and raised its face up to roar in satisfaction. However, a familiar scent wafted by its nose, causing it to twitch. It recognized this smell; it was similar to how they smelled.
Its deep black eyes opened wide; an evil primal desire to feed shone from them. Without waiting even a second, its body sprang out, rushing out on all fours, displaying its bestial nature as it ran towards the source of the aroma.
At the unsuspecting town, a distant rumble echoed through the stillness, sending shivers down the spine of anyone unlucky enough to be awake. The ground trembled beneath the monstrous footsteps of a creature born from the darkest corners of imagination. A colossal silhouette emerged from the outskirts of the village, its monstrous form highlighted by the faint moonlight.
The monster towered over the humble cottages, its eyes like black holes that devoured any semblance of light, fueled by a malevolent hunger that drove it forward. With each step, the ground quivered, and the terrified whispers of awakening villagers filled the air.
Chaos erupted as the monster unleashed its fury upon the unsuspecting village. Wooden structures splintered like matchsticks under its powerful limbs, and terrified screams pierced the night. The monster's roar echoed through the valley, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Then it began its feast; blood splattered all around, heads drew arcs through the air. Irrespective of gender or age, every single person that lived in that town was devoured; not a single soul was left to tell the tale.
***
In an unknown location, a figure draped in fitting night-black armor with lines of blood red forming the embroidery that accentuated his armor appeared in a throne room. The armor seemed to have been carefully and specifically designed for agility and flexibility, even though it was obviously made of tough metal, as could be seen from its sleek curves and edges.
However, this figure's armor wasn't even the most magnificent in the vicinity. The throne room itself was another beauty on its own. It appeared to be dome-like in structure, spanning a diameter of about a kilometer. It was astonishing that there weren't even pillars to hold the structures at the centers, but that wasn't even the most extraordinary; it was the artistry of the painting on the ceilings that would make one's heart skip a beat.
It resembled—no, it was the beauty of space that was depicted on the ceiling. The colorful arrays of planets and stars, the alluring beauty of nebulae, and the languid blacks of emptiness and void. The painting was almost lifelike, and maybe it was; the feeling it gave was as if one was in space themselves.
Despite all that, the figure in armor didn't even pause his steps. He made his way briskly to the throne at the far back of the room. Surprisingly, his steps made no sound, and likewise, his armor made no clinks. Maybe it was a conscious effort on his part, or it was due to something else; it wasn't certain.
"Angora, do you intend to defy me?"
An alluring, melodious voice capable of plucking at the heartstrings of any man came from the darkness that shrouded the throne. However, the person it was spoken to didn't have the expected reaction; instead, he stiffened up as he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. With some difficulty, he managed to stutter a couple of words out.
"I... I would never... my lady."
"Explain to me then the reason for your incompetence."
"The can—"
"Kneel."
Immediately the voice spoke again, both of Angora's legs buckled, his knees slamming into the ground below, causing his knee guards to shatter into countless pieces. His face behind the helmet he wore contorted in pain. But even with the pain, he managed to force out an explanation.
"The boy's soul appears to be languid; he won't respond, no matter what I do."
"You've grown weak, Angora. Did you forget your purpose, or do I have to remind you?"
Angora, however, decided not to respond and kept his gaze on the ground even as the voice scolded him.
"Pathetic, bring him to me."
Immediately, Angora stood up, preparing to leave, but not before squinting his eyes for about a millisecond in anger. Unfortunately for him, the one on the throne caught sight of it, and as he noticed, he couldn't leave the way he came; the space appeared to have been locked down.
"Child, quell your spirit, or it won't be long till you're walking without a head."
Immediately the voice finished speaking; he was instantly teleported out of the throne room.