"Arthur, what are you doing here?" the man that stood by the tree, observing the movements of the other slavers with a calm gaze, turned to the approaching man with a sabre, "You should remain at the back and deal with any incoming enemies! Trust me you will have all the time in the world—"
Before the man could finish speaking, there was a flash of light. Arthur turned to the others and sheathed his blade and the head of the yapping man fell off his neck. Blood spurted like a fountain, a sight everyone else turned to with shaky eyes.
"Arthur! How dare you betray—!" the woman from earlier charged forward, but before she got a hold on Arthur, he stepped forward and drew his blade. Her heart skipped a beat, and time froze for her. Then, blood spurted from her neck and she clasped her hands over the wound.
As she collapsed to the ground, shook violently for a few seconds then froze in death. The others who watched turned their weapons on Arthur. His gaze swept across them then settled. He entered a stance, drawing his blade slightly and narrowing his eyes.
"A betrayal?" one of them spoke, his grip around the blade he held shaky, "From Arthur?" as the man gazed upon Arthur, all he saw was death — for him. He was no match for such a monster! Not now, not in a dozen years! He needed to run! Yes! He needed to escape!
"He wants all the slaves to himself!" another shouted, drawing his bow and uttering a fierce cry, "Stop him, and the gains would remain ours to share! Anyone that dies would have his gain taken by another!" the others heard this, and on an impulse, they charged madly.
"You will all die here…" he drew his blade completely and dashed forth at a fast speed.
——
The issuer of the morale boost withdrew into the dozen or so slavers. They moved too fast and it was quite difficult for Requiem who hid in the bushes to count. He watched as Arthur slaughtered all of the men, but the archers hiding at the back proved to be quite the annoyance.
It would be difficult for him to jump into the battle and attempt controlling everyone here — lest he welcome a sneaky blade into his heart. Requiem glanced around then his poker face lit up to find a slave detached from the main group.
Her leg was broken and she masked her escape with the chaos: tearing up as she tried to crawl away as fast as possible, her chains clattering softly against the ground. She looked back to see that not a single one had noticed her, and the tears flowed.
She was going to escape — she must escape! She felt so glad, turning to face her journey. Once she leaves here, she would find someone to help with the chains, find a way to avoid starvation and live a life hidden away from slavers. She was one crawl away from achieving it.
Yet, here he stood. A small figure, his looming shadow cast over her pathetic body. She reached a hand to grab his ankle, but he lifted his leg and stomped on that hand — hard. She quickly raised her hand to cover her mouth, stifling a scream.
"So that was why I got so angry…" he wondered to himself, a cold gleam in his eyes, crouching to glare down upon her teary face, his feet stomping hard on her slender fingers. He grabbed her cheek and lifted her head to stare into her eyes, a polite grin formed on his face, "Hello, woman."
He wore the clothes of a subhuman — those rags would be spotted anywhere. She thought it to be one of the slavers, so maybe she maintains that flicker of hope. She forced a smile back, hoping it would carry the message she meant no harm.
"I won't harm you, human because you are going to do exactly as I command." He lifted his feet from her hand, and walked back, her gaze traced him, eagerly waiting for his command. He smiled sweetly then as he vanished into the shadows, he mouthed the word, 'Scream.'
⦗Blessing Active!⦘
And she did as commanded, opening her mouth and uttering a loud high-pitched, ear-splitting and mind-numbing scream that resonated in the forests until her voice cracked and she ran out of breath. She breathed heavily after, sweating at the realisation of what she had done.
Everyone turned to the loud noise, except Arthur. In that moment of confusion, the heads of all the archers rolled across the ground and their bodies fell to the ground limp and cold, all the blood pooling up beneath them. After Arthur had killed them all, he blinked, then his gaze hardened.
He heard clapping from behind him and when he turned around, terror overwhelmed his soul, and he staggered back in fear. He turned around to bolt but there was no way one could escape the authority of a voice, it was carried by the wind and remained eternal and cold, "Kill yourself…"
Arthur stumbled to a halt in the middle of his dash, then he turned around to face Requiem for the second time. He took his blade and swung it viciously, offing his own head in a perfect cleave. A spectacle of gore that Requiem watched with a calm poker expression, until the screens appeared.
⦗Quest Completed!⦘
He glanced at the slaves out of the corner of his eyes. Some tried to escape with all the slavers dead but a sudden imposition collapsed upon their souls, and they were rendered immobile. There was silence as everyone looked up to the child no more than ten years, glaring down upon them.
Like an ancient beast that had finally found his prey.
"How I wish my memories would return…" Requiem spoke calmly, his voice carrying authorities that command a thousand worlds. Here he stood, a husk of his former self, his memories lost in the flow of time. The sheepherder of gods, now reduced to a vagrant commoner, "What a misery."
"Who are you!" one of the slaves summoned the courage to question, glaring at the child with a fierceness in his gaze. Why should he fear? After all who he was dealing with was just a young child who has not seen the reality of the world. A babe gifted by the heavens was still a babe!
"You dare?" he turned to the man who had asked the question so brashly, his gaze as cold as the heart of an avalanche, "I believe you fail to understand the situation you fools are in right now. There is no salvation here but merely a shift in management. Now, slave, take a sword and drop upon it."
"Y-yes, Lord." The slave dragged himself to his feet, walking to the sabre used by the dead Arthur as the others watched in horror. He took the blade and positioned it beneath him and before anyone could react, he jumped upon the blade, and blood splattered. He lay still, a blade jutting out his back.
⦗Killed 1 Slave⦘
⦗Earned 1 DP⦘
"Good." Requiem had a good laugh then his gaze turned serious. Everyone looked away from his overbearing eyes, cowering beneath him. He had no use for these slaves and needed no weird topics spreading as rumours among the people. A smirk tugged at his lips corners, "Now all of you, rise."