Chapter 423 – A life given for a life taken
King Fenrir and the wolf watched the corpse of Koftilo saring the ground in crimson. A horrible stench of iron and piss bloated the room, settling on it like a harrowing blanket.
The King’s eyes were cold and calculating, his pupils contracting, pulsing, watching the corpse as if able to see sothing none could see.
After a mont, the King grunted. It was a low, rumbling sound that bood through the throne room scarred with marks of the past.
Hearing the grunt, the wolf let out a low howl, rose lazily, its beastly eyes shining with craving.
It strode toward the fallen corpse, its movent slow and steady, making no sound, as if ti itself was a servant of it.
Arriving near the corpse, the wolf ducked its head, its tongue flickering out, drinking the blood of the fallen man with dark glee.
It didn’t stop there. It continued, step by step, then arrived in front of the frozen, fearful face of Koftilo. The man wasn’t even given the luxury to die with his eyes closed.
And now, he would neither be given the luxury of a proper burial.
Slowly, and with voracious hunger, the wolf of the King began to devour Koftilo.
His head was first, gnawed in the way an ant would gnaw at a rolling piece of bread. It exploded, gore painting the wolf.
Next was his chest, ripped open, making a show of flesh and bones and blood splattering around.
Inside the chest, there was an eerie stillness to the organs within. They were no longer beating. They were no longer dancing with their internal rhythm.
It was a mont worthy of reflection, but the wolf was not one to ponder life and death.
So it continued its feast, its mouth red and dripping, with pieces of flesh and organs stuck between its spear-like teeth.
All this ti, the King watched with rapt attention. His eyes twinkled, and then he saw the wolf glowing with a soft yet intense crimson light that pulsed like a living thing.
Barely anyone could tell, but each pulse of the crimson light was accompanied by a slow rumbling of the whole Fenrir City.
It was like sothing was stirring up — or at least trying — however, soon enough everything settled down.
"A life given for a life taken." The King muttered, beastly eyes glowing. "But the lives are not enough. Not nearly enough. Tell , Fen, how long again?"
"King O King, you know well what you have to do, don’t you?" The wolf raised its bloodied snout, then turned its head to stare at the King. "A life given for a life taken. But the lives must be aningful, King. Oh, the life you have taken is too grand after all, King. Your ti is near."
"I shall not perish, Fen."
"A life given for a life taken."
The wolf grinned, showing bloodied teeth like a trophy.
"The law it is, didn’t you know?"
The King didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on a distant side of the throne room. There, a huge painting of a wolf could be seen. It was the only painting inside the whole room.
However, no one could see what was inside that painting. It was blurry, blocked by a kind of power even the King himself didn’t have the ability to cast out.
A sense of foreboding crept into his dead heart, but the King was a King. And no King feared fear. Not King Fenrir, at least.
"You know, don’t you?"
"Know what, King O King?"
"The ring." The King looked back at the wolf, growling. "You know where the Ring of Ragnarok is. What ga are you playing now, Fen? What gods are trying to pry into my affairs?"
"The position of the ring, my King, eludes the most." The wolf scowled. "And it puts in more danger than you yourself. You are well aware of that."
"And the gods..." the wolf shook its head. "The gods have promised to never turn their heads toward us."
"The words of those gods are as worthless as a whore’s whispers under the cover of the night."
"Yet, King O King, you accepted the deal."
"You know why."
"Oh, but I know. I am the proof of the deal. However, King O King, is it worthy?" The wolf asked, finally walking toward the throne. "Is it worth it?"
"It will be." The King said with a cold voice.
"At what cost?"
The King paused, his eyes resting on the spot where the corpse of Koftilo had lain minutes ago. Now there was nothing. Everything was devoured by the ravenous wolf.
Even the bones. Even the heart. Even the soul.
Taking a mont to think, the King answered Fen’s question, his voice as steady as a mountain.
"I shall pay the cost for Ascendancy."
"There is no glory in ascending while leaving behind a trail of nothing but corpses for crippled wolves to feast upon."
"And there is no glory in dying as nothing but a wretched mortal, Fen."
The wolf snickered, huffed, then lay down lazily under the throne.
"A life given for a life taken."
The wolf rumbled at last, closing its eyes, before the whole throne room returned to a still, dark silence.
The King closed his eyes in return, his body shrouded in darkness, writhing restlessly.
"A life given for a life taken."
...
Simultaneously, at the top of a pagoda where only one chamber — or more accurately, a realm — was situated, a being levitated cross-legged above the ground.
The realm was strange, filled with white wisps that floated continuously, swirling, churning, spinning like a wheel turning into itself.
The being in the middle of the realm was a man — if one trusted what their eyes registered — with a face that could not be seen, bandaged all over.
The only thing visible was his golden eyes — and they were like stone. No feelings nor life shone inside them. They might as well be considered dead, and none would deny it.
He lifted his head upward chanically, causing the realm to rattle as if struck by a hamr blow, sensing sothing inside his very Origin trembling.
His eyes narrowed briefly, tracking the source of the disturbance as a scene flashed across his mind.
The man watched it listlessly, until it ended.
He lowered his head again, falling silent for a long while, his mind churning at the implications of what he had witnessed.
Then his voice rumbled out, carrying within it an unfathomable amount of power that could topple cities with trendous ease.
"Providence smiling upon , I see." The man said, eyes curving in a failed attempt at joy. "Ti has finally co."
He flicked his finger, and a burst of power erupted, then disappeared completely, swallowed by a portal and transported to the one destined to receive it.
The being settled again, resuming his ditation, his motivation now soaring sky-high.
After all, it was ti.
Yes.
It was indeed ti to...
"Death Without Death." He whispered.
...participate in the Gambit!
...
In the center of Fokay, Milieu, in the greatest city called Tokitoki, an underground complex spanning multiple kiloters existed just below.
And inside the domain of Order Orion in that underground, Saul suddenly jerked up, sitting straight on his bed as sothing flashed inside his mind.
Inside him, the mysterious mask rattled and shook, sending a wave of intent that transford into words inside his head.
He took a deep breath, clenching his fists, eyes closed, trying to calm his stomping heart.
Seconds later, he opened them, staring at the bland black ceiling of his room. On the shelf beside him stood a picture of all his friends — including Maryam.
"So it’s ti."
Saul muttered, placing his arm across his eyes, lips trembling lightly.
"What a timing."
— End of Chapter 423 —
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