Yasmin said in a soft and pleading tone to her brother, "Please, Enrick, trust . If I knew what that Red Pill was, I would have never taken it. If I knew what father had done, I...."
She coughed up blood again, all her accumulated injuries now coming back all at once, which she had been suppressing, and the sword piercing her stomach was hurting the most.
With her bloody, trembling hands, she reached out, grabbing Enrick’s face. She bit her lip for a mont and said in a resolute tone, with the last of her strength, "Enrick, I promise you. If what you say is really the truth...."
"I promise this in the na of my Deceased mother. I will not forgive our father. The day I am strong enough, I will kill him. NO, we will kill him together. Trust ...."
Enrick cut her off, "I know, and I trust you as well."
Grabbing her face, he bent down, kissing her on her bloody forehead with genuine warmth. He showed her a broken expression, as his voice cracked, "I know, you truly are good-hearted. I know in that last attack, you would have only seriously injured , at best."
"I know you could not kill . I know, despite my hatred, you will continue to care for . And I hate that.
"It would be so, so much easier if you hated . If you tried to kill , yet you are not such a person."
"I know you will do exactly as you said. But I am not capable of such goodness. My heart is filled with nothing but hatred."
"In the end, the only thing I care about is revenge. Our psychopathic father would not care if he died at the hands of his children. In fact, he would only be proud," stated Enrick while a trickle of tears fell from his eyes.
"But I want to see that man break, and your death is the only thing that could break him. "I, Enrick, am incapable of desiring anything else..." pulling her into a hug. He said softly, "I’m sorry, sister. For everything."
Tears also fell from the princess’s eyes; she realized that no matter what she said, Enrick would not spare her. There was no escape; she did not have an ounce of strength left, and no one would co to save her. She was destined to die here.
She did not speak more to her brother, but she could see that the sadness and pain inside of him were real. She could only regret in her last monts, ’If only I had realized things sooner. Father would not have neglected Enrick and Nino.’
’If only I were strong enough.’
’If only I were talented enough.’
’Father would not have done that to Nino.’
’If only I were good enough,’ she lanted with a broken heart. Her thoughts slowly beca muddled, and blood flowed out of her wound constantly.
Enrick let go of her and stood up, his expression broken. He knew what he was doing was wrong in every possible way; maybe he was becoming the sa cold monster as his own father. Drunk on power and glory, unfairly biased.
But even so, he would have to do it, to keep the promise he made to himself back when the King locked his mories of that horrifying mont. Enrick promised to make the King feel the sa pain he experienced.
Yasmin would die in a minute if he just left her like that, but he did not want to see her die slowly in agony; he would make it quick.
A sharp sword appeared in his hand. Just as he was about to slash at her throat, a muffled scream reached his ears, and he looked back.
Thorian held the neck of a gruesoly bloodied Nox Blackvale, who was unable to move even a finger, only watching as Yasmin was about to be killed.
"NOOOOOOOOO......"
"DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH HER. I WILL KILL YOU...."
"I’LL KILL YOU...."
"I’LL KILL YOU...."
"I’LL KILL YOU...."
With every word the defeated prince of Blackvale uttered, Enrick saw Thorian laugh in maniacal joy. This was the first ti he had seen that guy with such a monstrous expression of sadistic joy, unlike his usual calm, aloof self.
Enrick didn’t care much about that at this mont. Fenrir was almost done recovering; he couldn’t waste any ti. At this mont, the broken voice of his sister reached his ears: she uttered her very last words, "I’m sorry too, Enrick, for everything..."
Enrick’s already broken visage beca even more twisted, and more tears fell; he gnashed his teeth so hard that his gums bled.
He hated the wave of complicated emotions that he could barely force down; he hated it all. Her sympathy for him, even in the face of certain death, Enrick gave her nothing but hate and betrayal.
And Yasmin? She gave him nothing but kindness and love when she had no reason to. Yasmin showed a soft smile and closed her eyes; a trickle of bloody tears fell down her cheeks. She didn’t mind the pain, but only regretted what could have been.
Unable to bear it any longer, just as Enrick was about to slash at her throat, a hush fell over the chaotic battlefield. A buzzing sound echoed in Enrick’s ears. In his vision, it felt like ti itself stopped, but in fact, it did not; his perception had beco so fast that it felt like so.
For a mont, he could not feel anything; he could not move his body, only a buzzing sound growing in his ears, until he felt a cold sensation coming from his neck. A touch... a rough, clawed hand of sothing.....
Sothing sinister....
Sothing monstrous....
Grabbing his neck....
Not with force, but as if with almost an inhumane grace and gentleness, that chilled his blood. Suddenly, a flash appeared in Enrick’s eyes. A vision... of his head being torn apart from his neck with effortless ease. In the vision, he saw the face of the entity that grabbed his neck.
A face reflected upon the pool of blood below his feet, from the constant bleeding of his sister.
An inhumanely handso and pale face, that looked like that of an Elf but also sothing vastly different, wearing an imperceptible dark smile, sharp pointy ears, long pitch-black hair, and a pair of Demonic Blood-Red Eyes.
All of this happened in a fraction of a mont; the threat of death upon Enrick was so serious and real, and happened so suddenly, that his subconscious, as a form of survival instinct, forcefully fed him the information of his confird doom via a vision, through his visual senses.
The fastest thod that could give him even a 0.000001% chance of survival.
He was feeling the greatest fear he had ever felt for the first ti in his life, for so reason, the danger he felt from this demonic existence felt even more intense than when standing in front of his own father, who was a 6th-phase entity.
Enrick scread in his mind, "Attribute Assimilation, Beast of Ragnarok."
[Initiating process for Attribute assimilation of Doomfang Fenrir upon the Conjurer Enrick Samartan.]
[Assimilating.... assimilating... ]
[Maximum assimilation percentage at Conjurer’s current power is 5%]
In the fraction of a second, his body transford without the slightest delay, driven by the instinct to survive: his height grew, his fra broadened, and a layer of thick wolf fur appeared on his limbs and shoulders. His canine teeth grew sharper and longer, akin to those of a beast.
His fingernails grew to resemble claws; it happened so fast that one might think another half-wolf-like being replaced Enrick, instead of a transformation occurring on him.
With a part of the Immortal Wolf’s strength and power flowing through his veins, he dashed out from his spot with all of his strength and speed. The demonic hand that was on his neck was not holding him tightly enough, so he faced no struggle to get out of the grip that almost spelled his eternal end.
The mont Enrick stood at a considerable distance, out of the mysterious entity’s grip, a wave of profound relief washed through his entire being, but when he finally gazed upon the entity.
He first noticed the obviously handso elven face, wearing a dark smile, when he looked into those demonic eyes. Enrick shuddered instinctively, taking a step back.
As if he had witnessed the very personification of Dread itself. Enrick clenched his fists as the savage blood of Fenrir flowed through his veins.
He realized the feeling inside him was not exactly fear, but rather a knowledge confird by the beastly instincts of the Doomfang: that the entity standing before him was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
The Elven figure chuckled, looking at Enrick with interest. He spoke for the first ti, his voice laced with praise, "The Hatred and Dread in your Heart. It’s so deep and intense."
After a mont’s pause, he grew disappointed and sighed, "I was almost done absorbing it."
Enrick’s half-beastly face turned ferocious, the instincts of the Ragnarok beast giving him nonstop warning signals. Though the figure’s voice was gentle, it unnerved him even more. But he did not attack, waiting for Fenrir to heal its eyes; it should be done within a few more seconds at most, while he remained alert to the extre.
The Elven figure chuckled, looking at Enrick’s pensive expression, his lips curved up ever so slightly, "But that Dread, it’s not strong enough, not yet."
The dreaded feeling within the Transcendent Conjurer reached even greater intensity. Just as he was about to respond, he saw the inhumane gaze of the mysterious person go towards his dying sister. Yasmin had opened her eyes once more, struggling in pain.
Badump!!!
Badump!!
Badump!!
Enrick’s pupils constricted in terror, his heart beating like a chaotic drum. In the face of certain death, he had moved away from the mysterious man without any regard for Yasmin.
The smile on the face of the Elven figure widened like a demon, as if anticipating that very reaction, pulling his one leg up....
BANG!!!
SQUELCH....!!!
In one stomp of his foot, the head of Enrick’s sister was smashed into flat at paste, and she died just like that.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!"
A beastly scream escaped from Enrick’s mouth, which made everything within a kiloter tremble. His mind was overco by the savage killing intent of seeing his kin die at the hands of another right in his face.
But the grin on the face of the Elven figure only widened, making his handso face look ghastly.
And just like that...
For the first ti in the history of Eldarion’s last remaining Millenia.
Through the intervention of The Corrupted Elf, aka Wangnan Baek.
By the Orders of the Demon of Despair.
The single force that would cause the eventual Doom of all Seven Ruling Races,
Made its very first... Unofficial Appearance, on the deathly battlefield between the Human and the Ghost race.
The mbers of the DEMONIC ARMADA... had finally arrived.
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