Three arrows were fired in his direction and he tilted his head to the side, dodging them with no effort. A grin formed on his face as arrows whizzed past him and stuck the archers, killing them with a splatter of blood sprayed on the walls.
In an instant, the archers that were this close to ending his life, were neutralised. They could not even scream as the targets of the shots were their throats. The unlucky ones who were attacked by a weaker archer tried to scream for aid, but staring at the grinning Requiem…
Their lips were sealed!
He turned to the slaves, "They are not on this floor. We should start from here and slowly work a path up, eliminating all of the enemies." He looked around himself. The slaves were competent, and if not for a few nuances, they would have made better pawns.
But let this battle be the deciding factor to know which pawns would get promoted — he gazed on the dead slaves beneath him — or sacrificed. After some time, he walked over the dead slaves, a cold gleam in his eyes as he focused them towards the stairs.
"The weaker slaves should wait here…" he snapped his finger and the slaves stopped following him immediately, and he turned to Fay, "I will leave their well being in your hands…" — 'my dearest fodder.' A gleam shone in his eyes, but she did not notice it.
"I will do my best!" she closed her eyes and shouted then a wind blew. She opened her eyes to find Requiem and the others already advancing further into the castle. She made a face turning to the other slaves then forced a polite smile.
Everyone took one look at her then turned away.
——
"Hmm?" he walked calmly, standing at the forefront of the slaves. He waved his blade and heads rolled down the stairs, to be crushed by the marching slaves. Requiem had taken the lead to observe the situation upfront — disliking the feeling of being crowded by tall fools.
⦗Killed 6 Guards⦘
⦗Earned 6 DP⦘
Requiem halted. He noticed a light in the darkness and his eyes narrowed to needle points. There was a screeching sound as a spear hurled through the air, aiming directly for his heart. Requiem was silent as the slaves rushed forward to defend him, but he willed them to halt.
He caught the spear with one hand and the sound of bones breaking resounded in the halls. The cold light in his eyes softened as he observed his mangled arm, passing the spear to the other. As he took a stance, he heard scuffling from far ahead, but only grinned, "What a weak tactic…"
Requiem hurled the spear and his hand exploded into a pool of blood. He stifled back a scream, maintaining a cold demeanour in front of his servants. Although deep within him — 'ahgrhhhhhhh!' — was a totally different story. As for the fool that had attacked,
The spear transformed into a blur that ripped through the darkness, blasting into the enemy's spine and causing an explosion of blood, flesh and bone. Their was a loud cry, like that of a pig for slaughter, only to be buried by the clattering of armour then fading into silence.
"Master!" one of the slaves, a silver haired man wearing the armour a dead guard stepped out to shied Requiem. His stature was quite big and he shrouded Requiem who was as thin as a twig, lifting his shield before the both of them and marching forward steadily.
Requiem grew curious. Most of the slaves that could use a weapon showed considerable skills in combat and it forced him to wonder — where would their uses lie as slaves of mere mortals? They'd be better off serving a puppet master who could puppeteer them to maximum potential.
Requiem reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder and he stopped, "Kindly get back, you are defeating the purpose of my coming to the front line. I do not enjoy my efforts wasted a mortal."
The slave was hesitant but he withdrew and Requiem took the lead. Standing at the front, he had sight of every door that existed before him down to the stairs that led up to the higher floor. With an excited gleam in his eyes, he opened his mouth and shouted, "Enemies, get out and fight!"
That would never work! The thought crossed everyone's mind, but to their shock the doors that looked so innocent burst open and vomited scores of guards. They all turned to Requiem who wore a smile in response, standing still as arrows flew and bodies fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.
"Master, are you a God?" one of the slaves trembled as he asked softly, staring at the guards. The realisation had finally struck him and seeing it happen over and over again, he could no ignore it! He watched this child — his master — speak commands that came to pass!
No matter where the enemy hid, they were dragged out to be punished. No one could resist such power, not even now where a foolishness decided life and death. There was only one explanation! He was serving the reincarnation of some eternal god!
"That is not in your place to know, slave." Requiem answered because even he did not know. The truth remained his being a human prince but there something in him screamed 'NO'. He felt like there was something he missed, but he remembered nothing, 'Who was he supposed to be?'
⦗Memory Deleted!⦘
"Heh…" he laughed inside. He had tried this over and over again, but he knew the answer. There was something he had done and he lost everything. Now here he was having to start from scratch. It was aggravating for him, granted a blessing and curse and forced into the world.
All that directed him up to this point was his innate nature. Requiem crushed the hand of a dead guard under his feet, running his fingers through the bloody walls as he moved forward, glancing to the side and turning to walk up the stairs, "Kill yourselves…"
His voice travelled and he listened in to the madness above him, bodies rolling down the stairs to halt at his feet in a trail of blood, "My blessing seems to be growing stronger. This is good." There was nothing much more beautiful than evolution. Growing from a wisp to a burning meteor.
The feeling was euphoric. He walked to the top of the stairs, staring further into the castle, then a cold grin formed on his face, twisting his cold expression into something unsightly. The darkness parted around him as he walked forward, the dagger in hand dripping with blood.
"Be merciless."