Even in the suffocating darkness of night, the expressions on Karban and his warriors' faces were darker still. Fear clung to them like an unshakable curse, seeping into their bones, twisting their breaths into shallow, uneven gasps.
A single misstep. One wrong word and their fate and future generations will be destroyed.
Veythor stood before them a presence more suffocating than the night itself. The wind carried the stench of old blood, the charred scent of scorched earth, whispers of past slaughters woven into the very land beneath their feet. His crimson eyes burned in the gloom, not with wrath, but with something far colder. Detached amusement. The way a man might watch insects squirm beneath his boot, deciding whether to press down his voice slithered through the silence.
"Karban, you disappoint me."
The tribe leader flinched, every fiber of his being taut with dread.
"Where is your bravery?" Veythor's tone was almost wistful. "Where is that undying defiance that made you so eager to bare your fangs against me?"
His gaze swept over the warriors, each kneeling, heads bowed. The proud Yamika tribe, once fire-forged in defiance, now reduced to trembling cattle awaiting slaughter.
"You called me a demon a monster and now here you are…" His voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of a noose tightening around their throats. "Kneeling,groveling,begging.
How ironic?"
Karban's jaw clenched. The humiliation curdled in his stomach, thick as bile. His body trembled not just from fear, but from a rage so deep it felt like it would suffocate him. He wanted to scream, to curse, to fight but all he could do was press his forehead to the dirt.
"No… no,no,no,no,no,please, Lord Veythor," he whispered, his voice hollow. "We spoke out of arrogance foolishness It was our mistake please, forgive us. Whatever you desire name it, and we shall obey."
A chuckle light almost pleasant.
"Anything?"
Karban felt his stomach twist into knots.
"Yes… anything."
A slow smirk tugged at Veythor's lips.
"Loyal dogs, aren't you?"
He let the silence stretch, savoring the moment. Then, in a voice as calm as it was cruel, he uttered his command.
"Strip yourselves of your weapons and armor. Leave them here. Return to your homes and wait in silence. If you obey, the explosives will not be activated and defuse in few hours."
Silence.
The warriors hesitated. Their eyes flickered with disbelief, with fragile, desperate hope.
Was this truly mercy?
One by one, they complied. Weapons clattered onto the ground swords, axes, bows, shields. Armor followed, discarded like the molted shells of warriors who no longer were.
"Go."
Karban and his men retreated, steps stiff, cautious—as if fearing this salvation would be snatched away at any moment. Their figures disappeared into the village.
Relief.
A sigh. A nervous chuckle. A burst of quiet, disbelieving laughter.
"Phew… we're saved."
Some warriors exhaled deeply, rubbing the tension from their faces. Others whispered silent prayers, thanking whatever gods they believed in.
The night stretched, quiet and still.
And then—
Veythor smiled.
His fingers twitched.
"Nukerels, activate."
BOOOOOOM.
A tremor, violent and merciless, ripped through the village.
BOOOOM.....BOOOOM.
Flames speared into the sky, painting the darkness with an eerie, hellish glow.
BOOOOM...BOOOOM...BOOOOM.
The village screamed not in shock not in mere terror It was the kind of screaming that only existed in hell.The explosions were not instant. No, they came in waves. Calculated. Spaced apart just enough to let the survivors understand. To let the horror sink in before the next detonation swallowed them whole.
BOOOOM.
Fire slithered through the streets, a living thing, a hungry thing.
The scent of charred flesh, burning wood, melted fat it thickened the air, turned breath itself into an agony Karban's home was the first to collapse.
A wailing child staggered from the ruins. Tiny hands reaching for the sky. His body half-severed from the blast. A warrior his father, perhapsnrushed toward him, mouth open in a cry of anguish.
BOOOOM.
The flames swallowed them both.
A woman, her body torn and bloodied, crawled across the dirt.
Her legs ruined, dragging behind her like broken branches. She screamed for help, her voice cracking, raw with agony no one came.
The homes, built through generations of sweat and toil, collapsed one by one erased. A child's toy a simple wooden horse lay half-buried in the ash, its edges blackened.This was not war this was not even a massacre This was erasure Erika stood frozen.
Breath caught. Hands trembling. Stomach twisting with nausea, with fury, with something so raw it bordered on madness.
She wanted to move. To scream. To do something.
But she could only watch.
Watch as everything burned.
Her nails dug into her palms so hard they nearly drew blood.her mind drifted
No, no, this can't be happening. They were just just kneeling. They were begging for mercy! Why would he why would he do this? didn't he said that he wouldn't activate those explosives then why?
I have to....I have to help them but my feet feel like they're sinking in sand. I want to scream, to run, but my body won't obey. My hands are shaking. I don't know what to do. This wasn't supposed to happen. He promised…
It's like something in me is breaking, too. The smell of burning wood, of flesh it makes me want to gag. Why isn't anyone stopping it? Why aren't they doing something?
I can't look away. The flames are swallowing everything. They're… they're gone. All of them. Gone.
I have to help, but my legs won't move fast enough. I should be doing something, right? I have to help. But what can I do?how can he kill those little childrens? how just how?The world is breaking apart, and I—I can't stop it.
Veythor turned to her. His expression unreadable. His crimson eyes gleamed. Not with joy not with cruelty.
But with something far worse.
Indifference.
He exhaled softly.
"Do you understand now, Erika?"
His voice was almost gentle. Like a teacher explaining a simple lesson to a slow student.He gestured toward the burning ruins.
"The strongest are not those who wield the sharpest blades. Nor those who stand in defiance against impossible odds.His gaze met hers Calm,Steady,Absolute."The strongest are those who control the board. Those who decide whether a man kneels. Whether a child lives. Whether a people continue to exist."
A pause.
Then, quieter so quiet she almost didn't hear it."Tell me, Erika…"
"Was I the monster?"His crimson eyes gleamed or were they simply fools who carelessly believed their enemy's words?"
Erika's breath came in sharp gasp she had no answer Veythor turned away behind him The village burned.