Chapter 32 - I'm Not The Good Guy

 "Interesting…"

 Requiem sat on a fallen tree, the slaves gathered before him, listening as they narrated their tales. When he lifted his gaze, the sight of demons undergoing a loop of slaughter would meet it. After enduring the torture for minutes, three collapsed and never moved again.

 The last two were killed until they too stopped moving. Once their deaths were confirmed, a cold gleam flashed in Requiem's eyes and he reached out his hand calmly. The slaves saw this and they all stepped back, sheathing their blades and entering a formation.

 He watched this calmly, his gaze as cold as ice. After seeing them in order, he lowered his gaze to the slaves chained to the trees beneath him. As he glanced around at the numerous slaves, neither of them caught his attention and he wondered, "Should I kill them now?"

 "They could prove useful…" Gerald suggested.

 "Or useless." Requiem sighed. He had no idea of their aptitudes and he already owned more than enough wild cards in his possession. As he held his chin in deep thoughts, Requiem caught Ryelir out of the corner of his eyes, and frowned, "Useless pawns would only collect dust."

 Gerald grew silent, watching Requiem with a curious gaze. Under Gerald's intense glare, Requiem maintained a calm demeanour. He sighed, parted his lips and began to speak, his voice loud enough for the others to hear clearly, "You can't attach worth to a worthless existence."

 Requiem turned to Ryelir, reaching out his hand, "Worthless pawns like these are not worth the risks and can only be sacrificed. More often than not, in those sacrifices, they would forever remain worthless. Their deaths as meaningless ass their lives."

 He laughed, turning around to Gerald who wore a serious expression on his face. He drew out his blade then offered it to him, stepping to the side as Gerald stepped forward, taking the blade in his hands. Gerald stared at the sword, frowning in silence.

 "These slaves are worthless…" he turned his back to Gerald. He smirked, the coldness that was present on his face was only visible to Ryelir who stared upon it with her eyes widened and mouth agape, her pupils dilating. Requiem sighed, "What happens to worthless pawns?"

 As he turned around, Gerald stepped forward and swung his blade. In an arc of light, one of the slaves' head was cleaved off their shoulders and sent rolling into the air. The others screamed as he fell to the ground, his open neck spilling blood as his head landed to the ground.

 "They are discarded." Requiem's cold expression twisted one of a wicked amusement as he held his stance, watching as Gerald shifted his gaze to a second slave. As Gerald lifted the blade, he froze in his motion, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as Requiem clicked his tongue.

 "I should have known that you can't—" As Requiem stepped forward, he halted. Ryelir had leapt past the slaves and jumped his lower half, pushing him by the hip and shoving him off his feet. As he felt his feet leave the earth, Requiem felt his eyes twitch in response, "What?"

 He landed on his back, and Ryelir attacked him. Sadly for her, he was in a suit of amour and any damage — more or less her pathetically stupid clawing and punching attacks — were fruitless. After she had vented, Requiem grabbed her by the head and she screamed.

 Standing to his feet, he held her tight as she clawed at his gauntlets. Requiem lifted her slowly to stare into her eyes, her feet dangling off the ground. He leaned in close, then headbutted her, causing her to fall to the ground with a swollen head, "Never try that again. This armour is expensive."

 Requiem turned to Gerald, "Return to me the blade. Have someone do away with this woman as well as with the others. We return to the castle and make plans for another conquest." The image of the Regent and his guards getting swallowed up in the rift flashed in his head for a second.

 "I am sorry, my Lord." Gerald bowed his head, walking to Requiem and handing over the blade, "I will do my best to train my resolve in killing your enemies. I will make sure I do not disappoint your wishes a second time!" his tone was fierce!

 Requiem wanted to sigh, but withdrew it. He had sighed far enough today. He turned around to the bowing Gerald his gaze as cold as ice, "I have nothing against you. After all, you are human like the most of us and humans tend to make mistakes."

 The other slaves closed in, and blades descended. In an instant, the cries and pleadings of all the Regent's slaves fell to silence. As the slaves turned to Ryelir, her eyes widened with terror and with a lump in her throat, she forced the words out of her mouth,

 "I can be of use to you, Requiem!"

 He turned his gaze from Gerald to her. Lifting his hand and ordering the slaves to halt, a curious gleam appearing in his eyes as he observed the shaken Ryelir, "In what ways do you think that your existence is going to be of use to me? I cannot comprehend your foolishness."

 "As a summoner of demons, I am sure that my abilities would be of use to you in many ways!" A fierce light shone in her eyes as she crawled forward, her will to live burning through her gaze. She had long abandoned her pride, deciding to sell herself to the devil while she could.

 "What makes you think I cannot obtain a replacement more useful than yourself?" Requiem was genuine in his curiosity, but he hid it behind his cold mask. Although, he still had not giving the order to off with her head, an assurance to her that he was giving her a shot at more suffering.

 "In the entire kingdom of Eternia, I am the most proficient in the dark arts!" she shouted, trying her best to mask her desperation but failing woefully. She waited and seeing that he was silent, kept her marketing strong, "I have connections with numerous nobles involved in the dark arts and—"

 Requiem sighed and she felt her eyes tear up. She shivered as he dropped his hand, wondering what would happen to her now. A slave stepped past her and as his blade drew across her neck, the edge left a wound that bled profusely. Her face threatened to turn blue.

 "Then, I will give you a chance." Requiem's expression twisted into a vile grin, "Let us see if you'd be good enough to please me, Ryelir."