Mothom's voice reverberated in the entire cave like a cacophony of screeching echoes. The slaves were able to hear the repeating words of Mothom, however even then they felt reluctant to do so, could it be fear? If it is then why isn't it triggering their flight response? Could it be that something is actually hindering them from doing so? They did not understand the seemingly shallow predicament, of course they had to run, but it also felt like doing so will spell out the means to their own demise, like a comedic tragedy. Thus everyone froze in place, without the slightest idea on what to even do.
The one who understood this best was Mothom, among the slaves he is the most powerful, and that is because he is highly experienced in multiple fields that required him to be a competent combatant, so naturally after the years of participating in such a precarious field of profession he was able to hone his instinctual ability to sense the aura of opponents, navigate the weak-points of someone's anatomy, and grasp the power of someone with only the use of his eyes.
And in this exact instant, the very foundation of his strength, his experience, felt at naught in comparison to the being that has been walking towards him in an eerily slow pace. He felt the suffocating aura of its existence, he can sense no weak-points in its entire body, as if protected by a layer of impenetrable defense that not even a catastrophic spell could leave a dent on- and his power unforeseeable even by his battle-honed eyes. He knew at that exact moment, that they were doomed, however his instincts still screamed at every fiber of his flesh and bones to flee from the godlike being, even if he knew it will all be for nothing, his primal instinct the very existence that is responsible for survival is telling him to at least try even if it meant his death, and that was why he cannot help but let out a shout of warning, his body simply commanded him to.
"And why would you run may I ask? Hmm?" Maxim asked in a very carefree and lax manner that it is uncanny to even listen to.
Mothom stared at Maxim, fear and a hint of despair clear in his eyes, he knew that his words will mean very little to such a being, well running will do no good as well, so he might as well just try to conversate with it and try to see its intentions towards them.
"My lord, I am sorry but we are nothing but just castaway slaves, who were all misfortunate enough to have been sent in such a hostile environment. In the case that we have woke you up from your slumber I give you my deepest and sincerest apologies, we do not mean to destroy your lair, we are simply doing what we were instructed to do, as that's what we slaves are bounded to- the commands of our cruel masters." Mothom spoke in a very polite manner a hint of constrain clear in his voice, as he bowed his head down to honor Maxim's presence.
Maxim looked at the bowing dwarf with no significant change in the expression present in his face, just the same lax display on it like how it was earlier.
With his face looking down on the ground, he could not see the being's expression, however he felt his presence nearing his, his footsteps became louder and louder until it stopped.
"Child, I am here to free you all from your sufferings." Maxim proclaimed
He paused for a little bit, then his mouth turned upward slightly, forming a menacing grin that still looked harmless in his akin to porcelain face.
"I will honor all of you with a merciful death."
At first, there was relief in the faces of the slaves, as all of them heard that they will be freed from their sufferings as slaves, however it all started to ring a bell when the being paused a little bit and smiled as if there was extreme malicious intent behind it, the slaves understood the subliminal meaning behind Maxim's words, he then uttered the final words to his sentence, mercifully, he will kill all of them.
This shook the slaves, as every single being in the world would if they were just casually threatened to be killed nonchalantly.
The looks in their faces screamed 'I don't want to die yet' 'I still have much to live for, it is not the end yet' 'Spare my life', and then the group of slaves broke into a chaotic disorder all of them panicking for their lives, an unreasonable act for such an unreasonable circumstance, a hefty number of them mustering all their courage with barely enough strength, just to run away, even after knowing that the frigid bites of the unforgiving winds of Auroealis will still cause them their miserable ends.
But an invisible barrier stopped all of the escaping slaves from their tracks, effectively leaving them with no other choice but to either accept their untimely death or perform a last ditch effort of redundant retaliation, knowing their unreasonable nature most chose the latter.
"Now now, I mentioned that all of your deaths would be merciful didn't I? So just behave and let me give all of you a death that will not bring you pain, but instead solace and peace. I do not despise you slaves, but there is no saving you from this place to begin with." Maxim said with a cold but gentle tone in his voice.
The slaves were then again stopped from their tracks, this time not by an invisible barrier, but by the suffocating presence of Maxim, it's as if all them were being pushed down by an intense increase in gravity, most of them fell to their knees, those weaker had their faces plunged into the earth.
As Maxim's presence alone halted the advance of the slaves he continued with his discourse.
"This place's cold will leave all of you baring your own teeth and looking for refuge, which is something that this far reaches of the land lacks. I think all of you underestimate the capability of nature to give all of you a painful way to go down, and not to mention that the sleeping leviathan is going to wake up too. I am planning on waking that bastard up from his slumber to continue our fight, we still need to settle our unfinished business, and this land you call Auroealis will be erased from existence in the sketches of your maps, everyone will be wiped out regardless. So, I am simply saving you the time from an ultimatum of death and death, I am giving you a choice to die a painless and peaceful death, and if you are that blind to my generosity, I'll even give all of you a chance to run."
As he was finished speaking, he lifted up the barriers that sealed the only exit of this cave, giving the slaves a choice on how they want to die essentially.
The harsh weather of this nation is not meant to be taken lightly, every word of Maxim has a tinge of truth in it. Nature in and of itself is an unstoppable force capable of obliteration in this world, and the unforgiving weather of Auroealis isn't an exception in fact it is one of the most dangerous ones that took the lives of many. Many have perished— from humans to the most resilient orcs under the very extreme and fierce snowstorms of this nation. A chunk of civilization fell to the catastrophic avalanches that occurs in a much more frequent amount than usual. And of course who could forget the countless abominations that lurk the expanse of this snowy nation's hostile grounds? Which is the area, where the cave they're mining in is situated.
If they ran, the elements that made Auroealis an inhospitable area will kill them, if they don't, they will die in the hands of Maxim, a being of absolute power capable of giving them mercy as the godlike being put it.
It is a predicament that results in nothing but death, it is a matter of choosing how would you rather die, which is heartbreaking to even think about— knowing that there is no escape even if you think there is, where succumbing to the embrace of death is the only true escape from this hell of a life that they've been living.
Most of them now devoid of any hope, looking into the distant view that was cloaked by a piercing blizzard— dejected and seem to be accepting their deaths in the hands of Maxim. A few were courageous; or perhaps foolish enough to brave the ongoing blizzard outside, their running figures dissipated into mere obscure silhouettes, until they completely got consumed by the storm, and their figures no longer visible.
Maxim took his time and then turned his eyes towards Mothom.
"Child, do you really want to live that much? How about I offer you a proposal." Maxim uttered.
Mothom with his head down to the ground, lifted his head up and asked: "What is it?"
Maxim then hunched down to Mothom's level, plotting something that they could not even start to comprehend.
"From the looks of it you are the strongest amongst this group, you have the power to carry out what I want you to do for your own survival."
Mothom's eyes widened, grasping the subliminal message that the words of Maxim conveyed.
He... he wants me to kill everyone... he knows, he fucking knows, that I do not want to die yet
Consumed by fear, Mothom's whole character took a drastic turn, from a man full of determination for everyone to survive, to now a cowering prey that is willing to do everything not to get mauled by an unstoppable predator, and Maxim understood this best, whether it be from experience or from his supernatural abilities, he saw through Mothom's deteriorating courage and the gripping hands of fear taking hold of his heart.
"Here, wield this sword, and carry out my execution of these slaves with your own body." Maxim spoke as he pulled out a blade made out of true ice from his palm.
Throwing the blade to Mothom, Maxim then carefully observed how he plans to kill every slave in the area.
A man with everything to lose is a dangerous beast that is determined to do everything under its power to not lose it. In the case of Mothom, his life is precious to him but so is the lives of every slaves that he cared for, let's see how a cornered man with that amount of sentiments handle this predicament. Maxim spoke in his head.
Slowly turning his sights to the blade, Mothom slowly crawled towards it.
The blade was made up of true ice, a magical substance mostly used by royalties to forge divine weapons. They do this by purifying the true ice with various methods that varies from royal family to royal family, then turning the unmelting magical ice to an extremely tangible forging material by combining it with compatible metals that synergizes depending on the purifying process. With sublime qualities from the high-level metal used, and the magical contents that the purified dark ice provides, it makes up for an extremely powerful weapon capable of slaying anything, even titans, or dare I say gods.
This blade however, did not undergo any of that process, its entirety is made up of raw dark ice material, mended together in an uncanny form that barely resembled a blade. Its blade has a plethora of veins where the melted dark ice circulated inside, travelling the front of the blade to the back in a messy and slow cycle. Its middle seemed to have dark ice that's somehow darker than the rest, like an area of concentration for this magical material, maybe the point where the blade is the weakest? or maybe the strongest? It is uncertain to say, after all it came from the palm of a being that shouldn't be in this world, so a logical outlook would prove to be futile.
The blade itself seemed to be brimming with eldritch life, Mothom could have sworn that the blade is whispering to him to pick it up and wield it with his mortal hands.
He was reluctant, but the whispers of the blade grew louder and louder, seeping into his mind like poison that made him go slowly mad, the blade seemed to have captivated his heart, urging himself to grip the blade and start his killing-spree that he needed to perform to survive, now it looked as if Mothom was in an inescapable trance, driven by his own will to survive, and the desire to live just to see tomorrow.
His body was in pain, his hands that gripped the thorny grip of the dark ice blade suffered a fatal frostbite, his body shivering from both the cold sensation that the blade made him feel and the crumbling of the remnants of his sanity that the blade slowly took away from him, his entire body, mind and soul was in pain, filled with the bestial urge to do whatever it takes to stay alive.
I get it, I get why you would do this to me... You saw through my will to survive and my willingness to do whatever it takes just to do so, and you are eager to see how I would paint on a canvas that you meticulously prepared... This blade, was meant to be an object of slaughter, a weapon whose hunger can only be sated by consuming the blood of the weak and the fallen, even infesting the mind of who wields it with the utter urge to kill....
Mothom spoke in his now unstable mind, struggling to maintain any means of sanity that he has left.
As he lifted the blade up, seemingly ready to slaughter everyone, he then pointed the blade in his neck.
Gasping for air and barely able to speak, he raggedly spoke in a very stern manner. "You will not live to feel the satisfaction of me killing the ones I cared about asshole, I may want to survive, but at the expense of their lives with my own hands and body? You can suck my dwarven dick if you think I will do that even with these petty mind invasion of yours."
He then slowly pierced his neck and slashed it with full force, opening up his oral cavities but then getting instantly sealed by the frost of the blade, his blood that was supposed to gush from it froze as it exited his slashed neck. In extreme pain from the burning sensation of the frost, he moved his eyes one more time looking at a specific direction, then turned his gaze back into the satisfied being before having his entire body consumed by the infesting frost. A moment later, Mothom's body fell to the ground, his frozen body shattered into shards of fragile ice that contained bits of crimson flesh, organ lumps, brain matter and frozen digestive materials— his heart which miraculously managed to stay as a whole, was able to beat slowly before losing its rhythmic pulse, and the ground was drowned with his blood that has been thickened by the low temperature; the rest of his body that remained is now ceased of any signs of life.
Mothom is now dead.
Fascinating
Maxim whispered to himself.
The slaves which were frozen in fear flocked unto the frozen corpse of the one that declined killing them just to save himself, to them he was already a selfless and respected individual, but now it just solidified how much Mothom actually cared for all of them, so much so that he'd rather die a miserable death than to bring death to the ones he swore to protect.
All of which that remained cried their hearts out, grieving and mourning the death of Mothom, filling the cave's atmosphere with a somber air.
This left a bitter taste in Maxim's mouth, losing such a valuable asset of war that he could have used to his advantage.
Was that a mistake? I think I played around too much
Hearing the cries of the slaves, Maxim felt the urge to say a word, however he let all of them grieve their hearts out to the figure that brought them the light in this lightless reaches of hell.
"Kill us."
"Just kill all of us, I'd rather die than to live a life knowing someone sacrificed themselves to save me, I'd rather follow that person in the afterlife."
"Just... please, end us, we do not want to live a life like this anymore, Mothom brought us hope and now that he is dead, all is nothing but a pit of despair that we can't climb out of."
"End us... I'd rather follow Mothom in hell than to continue living in one without him."
All of these words were said by mere slaves, and yet Maxim cannot help but feel bad about what he just did, he knew that he could have just turned all of them into his disciples and followers, he had all the means and the ability to do all of that, however his pride did not let him follow the ways of his father or any divine being, he did not want to spread his influence nor did he want anyone to suffer what he is going to suffer in the nearing future that is why he never even considered turning people into his minions, even if they were just slaves. Maxim simply offered them an escape from this hellhole, because frankly he knew one or two things about being a slave, he knew that death was an escape, but then why did he struggled to survive? Why did he find himself crawling from the depths of hell just to achieve his ambition of overthrowing the kingdom of divines? He finally remembered, that these beings have something to live for even if their lives were hell, they still want to live despite the sufferings that they'll go through by being a slave, just like he was.
And now, he took it away from these people, their only light in this place where not even stars could shine upon.
I guess I am not so different to the ones I despised.
He hated himself for doing that, because he felt like a hypocrite doing so. He did not even understand why he is being sentimental towards a mortal, maybe because that mortal alone made him realize something he never understood, the capability to sacrifice oneself for the greater good.
...Fuck all of this, me? Sacrifice myself for others? I only have myself to rely on, fuck all of them
"Very well, all of you that desired to die, you may now rest in peace." as he said that, every slave that flocked to the body of Mothom all fell to the ground, their consciousness non-existent and any signs of life were nowhere to be found.
"I'm sorry little ones." he apologized to the dead corpses, as he consumed every single of one them, each of their essence flowed into the tattered patterns in his body, assimilating with him and his soul and reforming the tattoo in a new pattern that resembled that of a lotus with lost petals.
As Maxim was about to exit the cave, he felt one more presence that somehow is still alive which made him stop in his tracks.
"Who are you? Why the fuck are you still alive?" Maxim asked with a surprising tone, as the hiding figure revealed a gaunt human with countless ugly scars in his entire body.
The boy weakly walked towards Maxim, his breathing heavy and exhausted, but his eyes burning with determination and willpower.
"I am Altair, I do not wish to die just yet."