NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 9: The Conqueror!
Amidst the clangor of steel, to the pile of abuses that rained down on Anarzel.
Clap!
Clap!
Clap!
One at a time, light but clearly heard claps echoed through the chaotic battlefield, sending chills down the spine of those who heard them.
Clap! Clap!
It rose in speed.
And-,
Clap! Clap! Clap!
I-...it was as though the clap in and of itself was a terror unlike anything they could've ever imagined. I-...it felt as though a knife was slicing through their hearts.
Clap!
Each clap-,
Clap!
…Sent dread crawling towards them.
Thump… Thump…
Slowly pooling and tightening around their chest, like an iron vice.
It was cold, frosty and most unnerving of all-
Clap! Clap! Clap!
It was unrelenting.
And at the center of it all-,
With furious gazes directed at the figure- the one in a million genius- as some say, stood Napoleon- the third.
His snow white hair cascaded down his crimson-dark armor. With a dark smile on his face, he seemed like a figure straight out of some otherworldly fantasy. His smile in and of itself felt both profane and… divine.
His allure strangely mesmerizing, yet no one doubted that beneath that intoxicating allure laid something-,
Thump… Thump…
Something much more terrifying, perhaps something much more menacing than even hell itself.
Or perhaps the rumors were baseless and he was not worth crap.
Who could say?
Badump! Badump!
No one ever lived to tell the tale.
Nevertheless, as they gazed at him.
Clap!
The battle seemed to have come to a stop or rather, they weren't able to move.
Clap!
No one could move.
Step-
He took one step forward.
Step-
No one saw when nor how he left his seated spot.
Tok-
Tok-
Each step he took sent a crazy surge of apprehension running through the crowd or rather, the warriors- be it his adversaries or his men.
After all-,
Step-
No one knew what he was going to do.
Step-
No one knew what he was up to.
Thump… Thump…
They couldn't even talk, and-,
Tok-
Tok-
Even breathing soon became much more difficult.
"Huff… Huff."
It became much more laborious.
A-almost as though some unseen hands of sort was tightly clenched around their necks.
And those who had it worse were the members of the Roselle Army.
'H-how?... how can a human be this strong?'
Step-
They had heard rumors. But-,
Tok-
Tok-
Even the rumors seem to pale in comparison to the real deal.
With clenched hands, and eyes as red as blood, a piercing cold gaze radiated from each and everyone of the Roselle Army.
And it wasn't directed at Napoleon, but rather, rather… it was directed at Anarzel- the bastard of a traitor.
Appearing before Anarzel who had a wide, beaming smile on his face. With his strength, usefulness and abilities, he was sure the emperor would take him in, especially when considering that… He just had to be a good loyal dog and they wouldn't have to die. He also wouldn't have to…
"...Good job. You did well."
A smile appeared on Anarzel's face:
"All thanks belongs to your majesty."
Napoleon shifted his gaze towards him, and smiled.
A dark smile.
One that sent cold chills slithering down Anarzel's spine.
"I've decided you're worth keeping alive... for now."
No one had any idea what that was supposed to mean, not even Anarzel who felt as though his heart was being squeezed by some unseen force, moments ago.
But if there was one thing he was sure of.
That was the fact that he had just escaped a disaster.
A big one at that.
Cold sweat drops formed on his forehead, slowly dripping onto the ground beneath him.
Drip!
Drip!
Kneeling on the ground, with his head slightly bowed, he spoke up:
"...T-thanks for your grace, your majesty!"
With an indifferent expression, Napoleon spared him a glance no more.
Shifting his gaze towards the warriors.
Thump… Thump…
~Shudder!
A subtle almost imperceptible shudder ran through every single one of them.
A-almost as though they were under some unseen force.
Of course, they had heard rumors of Napoleon's innate ability- The Monarch's Aura!
But only until now did they truly realize how fearsome it was.
They never had a chance to begin with, and they were only alive simply because he wanted it.
…That soon became clear.
Staring at the cold, concentrated murderous intent, to the dark ashen expression on the faces of the warriors: the higher-ups of the Roselle Army.
A cold expression crept up his face.
And then-,
…Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't allow them to live. Keeping them alive was akin to keeping a double-edged sword in his belly. It could easily pierce him when he least expected it. Hence as saddening as it might be to have to waste such "useful" resources.
Shaking his head and with a light sigh:
He knew he had no other choice.
"I will give you a chance. You all come at me together."
He said, gazing at every single one of the "higher-ups." From the Vice Admiral- Zareth who pierced him with a cold, chilling gaze, to Von Anzel who found it hard to stand under the immense pressure and yet refused to kneel, to every single one of them who refused to yield.
…To every single one of them who refused to be broken.
'A man can allow himself be defeated, but never!... Never must a man allow himself be broken.
…Never!'
They would be no worse than mere animals should they allow that.
And-,
Thump… Thump…
Amidst the dense darkness to the chilling wind that sent chills slithering down their spine.
Step-
Step-
"You cocky bastard!"
Thump… Thump…
Vice admiral Zareth was the first to rush out, his golden halberd piercing through the air at an astounding pace, its violent arc fully armed with an intent… an intent to… killl!!!
"Diiieee!!!"
Alger roared out, his facial features contorting to one of anger, pain…sorrow to anger once again.
"Go to hell bastard!"
"...Die!!! Diee!!! Diee!!"
Everyone released all their pent up frustration, anger, sorrow.
An indescribable surge of primal emotion overflowed from every single one of them, a terrifying tyrannical pressure descending upon Napoleon.
…Although still pressuring. But-,
Step-
Step-
That was just it.
Nothing more.
And most importantly, doing this was a way to cut all the hope, that blinding feeling amidst all suffocating darkness. He had to crush it.
…He had to reduce it to nothingness.
Remove it from the heart of every single one of them.
And-,
Step-
Step-
'...What better way? What better scapegoats that those who stand at the top of the Empire's food chain.
The members of the Roselle Empire all looked, something burning deep within their hearts.
'C-can they do it?'
'...C-...can they achieve the impossible and put an end to the tyrannical emperor.'
Hope.
It burned furiously within every single one of them.
Slowly tightening and pooling around their chest, like an iron vice.
Time seemed to have come to a stop as the various terrifying attacks.
From blazing sword strikes to unparalleled momentum of continuous attacks to blitzing almost inhuman strikes to:
Von Anzel closed his eyes.
As a sequence nine radiant of the luminary pathway:
He raised his hand into the air, and with a surge of desperation, anger, and hatred. All the concentrated bundle of emotion, he poured them all with his spirituality into the charm in his hand:
And then-,
Just at the last moment.
Thump… Thump…
He spoke up in the Arcanis language:
"Light!!"
'...Let there be light!'
And within the endless suffocating darkness. Within the obsolete darkness that had shrouded the battlefield.
A blinding light erupted forth. Creating a "slightly lit area" within Napoleon's umbral zone.
He could feel his spirituality draining away at a rapid pace.
Yet-
Thump!!! Thump!!!
A wide smile crept up his face.
Victory.
He could almost taste it.
The various attacks.
'Hah!'
They were just one step away from sending the bastard to hell.
But just then-,
Napoleon smiled.
Yes, he smiled.
A dark smile.
And just then-,
Thump… Thump…
He vanished from his previous spot, the ground he stood on moments prior cracking and disintegrating into a pile of dust and broken shards.
Craackaaa!!!! Kaaaboooomm!!!!!
Cracks ran across the ground he was standing on just moments prior, but-,
Thump… Thump…
He was there no longer.
'H-how?'
'How could he dodge the attack at such a close range?'
From the confusion to the anger that swelled and dwelled within them.
A great sense of unease suddenly gripped them.
A harrowing sense of foreboding settling within their spine.
And just then-,
Clap!
Clap!
They heartbeat accelerated with the pace at which the clap resounded through the air.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
The pace increased and so did their heartbeat.
It echoed through the stifling quiet, akin to deafening thunderclaps in the endless darkness.
T-...they felt as though they were being watched, being monitored, being spied on… by a force so profane…even words alone wouldn't be enough to describe it.
T-that cold sense of fear… it was menacing and it forced their motion to a stop.
'Haunter!'
…A sense of apprehension ran through every single one of them.
They didn't need to be told to know just how terrifying a haunter of the cursed pathway could be?
But still-,
Thump… Thump…
His seemed to be on another level entirely.
And just as they struggled to understand what was going or most importantly, where the bastard was:
Puchiii!!!
Slaaaassssh!!!!
Riiiiipppp!!!!
Napoleon making use of his nightstep, easily teleported between the thick endless shadows. Disappearing and appearing, and each time he did appear, he did so behind every single one of them.
And within the blink of an eye-,
Splatter!!!
Puchiii!!!!
Heads rolled off, crimson blood splattered onto the icy, cold floor, and headless bodies gushed out uncontrollably, a bright red liquid.
Sheathing his sword back into its scabbard.
Slliiing!
The headless bodies behind him all dropped onto the ground with a loud crashing thud.
The look of confusion still etched onto their faces even after they were long… dead.
"Huff… Huff."
Drenched in blood, he stood like a sentinel of doom and despair in the endless dark. An insurmountable obstacle. A being that couldn't be defied.
Amidst the pain and tiredness that clung onto him-,
He continued to keep that cold, nonchalant facade of his.
This was what he wanted them to be filled with!
Fear.
Despair!
He wanted them to feel it well.
…He wanted this very moment to be etched into the depths of their mind.
Only with this. Only with moments like this had he been able to keep up with his mantle.
His origin name:
One known to all but comprehended by none:
"...The conqueror!"
Amidst the suffocating quiet to the chilling coldness that ran through their heart, a voice resounded through the darkness:
"...Surrender or be killed."
And just as expected-,
Thump… Thump…
There was a cold, stifling silence.
A silence so stifling, everyone could almost hear the deafening sound of their heartbeat.
The rather "subtle" echoes of their heart racing against their chest.
Thump… Thump…
With a cold, indifferent gaze that sent chills slithering down their spine, he spoke up once again, his voice akin to that of a messenger of hell!:
"...I expected nothing more."