"There he is! The useless lord!"
"That disgraceful lord!"
"Atticus Ravenstein must answer for his cris!"
"Cut him down!"
"Drag him out!"
"Get him!"
The ground shook beneath Atticus' feet as millions of n, won, and children clad in beast skin marched toward him, roaring at the top of their lungs. Each one bared at least one weapon. Many held bone clubs, others brandished broken spears, sharpened stones, rusted kitchen knives, dented pans, and one particularly deranged man was brandishing what looked suspiciously like… a giant fish.
'What… what is happening?'
The group had gone alert, and Atticus felt all eyes on him, questioning. It was clear at this point that he was their sole target.
"Did you offend an entire race of people and didn't tell , my star actor?" Whisker said, frowning slightly. He looked genuinely wounded that such a legendary feat had happened without him witnessing it.
"These puny nothings dare bare arms against the great Ozeroth!? I'll show them their place!" Ozeroth roared, stepping forward.
But Ozerra was right on his tail. "The great Ozerra will put them in their place!"
"Don't you dare steal my glory!"
"You're the one stealing my glory!"
As Ozeroth and Ozerra started bickering, Atticus felt Anorah, Whisker, and Magnus' gazes on him. Their gazes were telling, what do we do?
Atticus glanced at the approaching army. Their eyes were murderous, filled with nothing but lethal intent. Though they looked like ordinary people without a shred of power or will, their killing intent was unmistakable.
He recognized none of them, and he wasn't about to let a bunch of randoms run his people down. For all he knew, this was a trap.
His hand reached for his katana as his eyes grew cold.
"We retaliate."
Whisker grinned, while a hesitant glow flashed in Anorah and Magnus' eyes. But Atticus' blade had already left its sheath.
A single streak of light, and the thousands charging at the front staggered to a stop, eyes widening. Hairline cracks split across their torsos a heartbeat later, widening as crimson mist seeped out.
The roar of their charge died instantly, replaced by the wet, sickening thunder of thousands of bodies hitting the ground at once.
A deafening silence descended.
Shattered, seconds later, by more deafening screams.
The remaining crowd's eyes glowed red as they raised their absurd variety of weapons.
"Get him! He's evil!"
"An evil lord!"
"He must die!"
They stepped over the blood and gore of their dead, splashing it around their bodies in a ssy spray. With even more ferocity, they charged toward the group.
'Suit yourself.'
Atticus prepared to move, but a panel of light suddenly shone before his eyes. He froze, squinting.
'What is this…?'
He read its contents.
"Ten thousand six hundred and thirty civilians are dead. Will density and territory reach are being adjusted accordingly."
Atticus froze.
'Civilians?'
"Die, puny insects!"
Ozeroth burst into golden light, but Atticus imdiately appeared beside him, gripping his shoulder.
"Stop."
"Huh? What are you talking about, bond?" Ozeroth blinked, confused.
But Atticus was already facing the others, who were seconds from attacking.
"That goes for the rest of you too," he said, eyes serious.
"They're not enemies."
He felt their confused eyes instantly, but sighed. With a thought, his will spread out from him, surrounding them in a protective do.
The civilians struck into it with maddened force, hamring and clawing while screaming at the top of their lungs.
"What are you talking about, Atticus?" Anorah asked, brushing Noctis' fur.
"They're not enemies," he repeated. "They're civilians. My civilians."
Ozeroth stared at him. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head sowhere, bond? Only five of us from Eldoralth are here. These are not Eldoralth people."
"That's the thing. They're not from Eldoralth. I think they're civilians created for our territory in this layer."
"Sothing happened when you killed them, right?" Whisker's eyes glinted. "Tell us."
Atticus explained what he saw. When he finished, Whisker finally nodded.
"The Verge is unpredictable. He does things solely for his own amusent. I wouldn't be surprised if the count layer has its own unique rules."
Atticus narrowed his eyes. He hadn't thought of that.
"Try asking for the rules," Magnus suggested, and Atticus nodded.
"Rules."
Another panel of light materialized before his eyes. He fixed his gaze on it, frowning when he saw that a new category had been added:
Count Layer.
"You're right. There's a new rule," Atticus said. Whisker flashed a smug smile.
"I'm always right. So what does it say?"
Ozerra, Anorah, and the other council mbers had also summoned the rules and were busy going through them, though champions weren't given the sa access as gods.
"Let see, let see!"
Ozeroth shoved his face practically into Atticus', squinting uselessly.
"C'mon man. You can't even see it."
"I can see whatever I want! …I just choose not to see poorly written fonts," Ozeroth grumbled.
Atticus sighed. "Try looking at it through my mind."
Ozeroth quickly nodded, closing his eyes. As his expression shifted into a smile, Atticus knew he was finally seeing it clearly.
He skimd quickly, finding what he needed in an instant.
"…it's gotten more complicated," he muttered.
"What do you an?" Whisker asked.
The rules were nurous, but Atticus summarized everything to Whisker and Magnus.
The territories he gained from the viscount layer remained, but the aning of owning a territory had changed drastically.
Now territories ca with citizens, and it was a lord's duty to grow the land. Each territory also had grades depending on age. His own rank caused his eyebrow to twitch:
Prehistoric.
When he finished, Whisker burst into laughter.
"Why am I not surprised? The Verge is even more insane than I am!"
Atticus understood the sentint. Only a lunatic would add such chanics to a life and death ga.
"And of all things, why give them sentience?"
Ozeroth shrugged grandly. "Because the mindless cannot appreciate supremacy. The Verge granted them sentience so they could understand what stands before them. A comndable choice."
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