Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 39 A Slayer's Path

The first to flee were those closest, who had laughed in ridicule when they saw the slim and tender pretty boy chosen by their boss as the newest plaything. They also shuddered when they thought about what would happen to the boy, and felt grateful it was not them.

Then they saw the boy stand up and confront the man. They shook their heads in pity; he was another fiery spirited one. The boss enjoyed those types the most, and would savour the process of breaking in the boy slowly, then turn him into a soul-less puppet used to satisfy the muscular man's carnal desires.

And when they saw the boy pull out his dagger, they began to laugh all the more in earnest, expecting their leader to give him a sense of hope before striking him - in the body, of course, to avoid spoiling his silky-smooth face.

Finally they could only look on in disbelief as the hulking Master-class combatant collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood and gore, a hole blown so clean through his chest that one could see right through it to the bloodied dirt ground below.

They turned tail to flee with just a moment's hesitation. They had learned to take decisive action and to never stand around just to observe what would happen next. The "what next" might very well be their demise!

One by one or many of them together, they pulled sharply on the reins of their steeds and the raiders frantically turned to take flight from the scene of horror that had just played out before their unblinking eyes. All they wanted at this moment was to be anywhere but here, filled with regret at their decision to join the chief in this round of robbery.

And as they began to make haste to escape, their companions, though confused, caught on and similarly started to disperse as fast as they could.

But the fastest had barely made it 50, 60 metres away before he cried out in a blood-curdling scream which turned into a choking gurgle an instant later.

The murderous Lars chose not to use magic for the slaughter, at least not directly.

He intentionally stepped on the corpse of the so-called Sword King then teleported onto the galloping steed of his target to impale the man with his sword through the chest.

A long curved one-edged katana blade protruded through the man's chest, slicing accurately through one lung and his heart, ending his life in mere seconds.

Yet before the man who was gasping for his life could collapse from the wound or the Sar'peh beneath him rear up and throw him off, the blade and the wielder disappeared from behind him, only to emerge standing on the neck of another steed.

A crescent slash glinted through the air and sent a decapitated head flying. The Adept-level swordsman did not even have the chance to cry out before he was slain, much less a chance to defend himself from the masterful Blink-Strike manoeuvre demonstrated by Lars.

And immediately after completing the second kill, before the head could even begin its descent, the reaper's blade fell another 3 times, harvesting 3 more lives mercilessly.

"Help me"

"Goddess Sierra please rescue us!"

"I-I don't want to die...!"

Some of the routed bandits fled in silence accompanied by the thudding of their mount's 3 pairs of hooves striking the ground, while others yelled out in desperation, crying out pleas for mercy from which god they worshipped - or in some cases, whichever god's name they remembered.

Though the mana consumption and effort required to do this was exceedingly high, somehow he felt that only this would soothe the scratchy feeling in his heart that had been there ever since he arrived in this world, ever since he awakened his memories - no, ever since his first memory in this deceitful, disgusting world!

His pupils gradually turned dark, appearing to reflect the colour and sight of blood - or maybe his eyes had genuinely turned a deep, crimson red that struck terror into every beholder's soul.

By this time, not a single of the bandit's remained still - each and every one had already scattered to the nine winds, retreating as fast as they possibly could.

unable to use the slow way of killing anymore, he held up his hand and began to float into the air, 10 metres then 30 and then 50 metres up, to a vantage point he can oversee everything

his hand glows yellow as he multi cast dozens of Level 4: Hold Person spells.

the bandits mostly at Adept with just a few at Elite tier, unable to resist in the least

Paralysed for 6-7 minutes. he calculated. enough to kill them all if he took 5 seconds for each one.

"Martha... I... Might not make it back... Take care of little Lisa..."

"No!!!"

Wailing and crying were heard from the helpless men, each and every one rendered defenceless and impotent by the simple wave of the legendary mage's hand.

The perpetrator and executor of the vagrants then walked leisurely from one bandit to the other, horrifically slitting their throat, beheading them or thrusting the blade through their chest, abdomen or groin. He trotted with a steady gait, almost as if he were strolling through a garden appreciating the flowers blooming - only in this case, the only things that were sprouting were spouts of blood from the throats and bodies of those massacred.

If the distance between the raiders was too far to cover in 2-3 seconds, he would teleport to cross the distance and quickly reap another couple of lives remorselessly, his face cold and stoic as he carried out the genocide.

Finally after less than 7 minutes, it was over.

A blood-drenched man in his dark brown cloak - now turned a sickening reddish-brown from the half-dried half-dripping blood soaking his clothes - walked back slowly towards the trembling leader of the supply wagons.

Khalid dared not move an inch. He stood stunned, equally paralysed as every one of the other men - though not from any arcane incantation, but simply from the terror induced by the boy who now appeared like the incarnation of a demon in human skin.

Little did he know that his impression was not far from the truth - for the boy appeared devilish with his crimson red pupils.

He nearly forgot to breathe as the infernal slaughterer walked up to him, without the courage to make the slightest move and draw attention to himself.

But to his dismay, he was locked in the boy's gaze, the bloody crimson-eyed gaze that still hungered and thirsted for more slaughter.

Then Lars smiled, one which did not reach his eyes, one which looked like the crazed smile of one who had thoroughly enjoyed the carnage just before.

"That was enjoyable. You should try it sometime." He spoke with a straight face, smiling serenely as if he hadn't just uttered abominable words.

Blood dripping from his chin.

* * * * *

[More than 600 kilometres away]

A grand figure was seated in the middle of a tall, sprawling tent, looking like a lord as he surveyed his humble subjects and vassals. He held himself high with great haughtiness as if he were an emperor ruling in immortal hegemony.

He was in midst of enjoying the ministrations of four lithe girls' hands massaging the back of his neck, shoulders and thighs - a prelude to something else racier, an appetiser of things to come.

He was smiling deifically, ruling confidently as he absent-mindedly took note of the reports coming in from his 3 most loyal retainers - Snake Spear King Lust, Dagger of Destruction Viyash and Mountain-Smasher Adron. The only one of his blood-brothers missing was Sword King Raghu who he had sent on the mission to make their presence known to the surrounding factions and settlements.

"...As such, I recommend that we quickly dispatch four squads of riders to teach the village of Sanku a lesson and ensure our future tributes are collected smoothly."

The kingly man waved his hand in acknowledgement and assent to the Snake Spear King's recommendation, drawing a deep bow from the already kneeling woman.

Then as he felt the desire rising in his loins and was just about to grab one of his slave-girls to satisfy his passions, he heard a resounding crack, one that struck his heart with despair and sorrow.

Rising up abruptly and throwing off the seductive hands, he shocked the girls by lashing out violently, smashing all four of them to fly away, crashing into the walls of the tent, their bodies landing on the grown as a tangled mess of flesh from his over-bearing strength.

He heaved and panted in fury, eyes turning bloodshot and mad with rage.

The soul vessel of his 4th but most beloved and zealous brother had shattered.

Sword King Raghu was dead.

The Grandmaster-realm expert roared in sorrow and wrath, his cries resounding through the entirety of the camp of more than a thousand bandit raiders.

Sand Crab Byrus would not rest until the corpse of his brother's killer lay lifeless on the ground before him.

* * * * *

[Lars' Point of View]

'Congratulations, kid! I didn't expect you to be so barbaric! Hahaha!'

'For slaying a hundred men with your own hands, you have unlocked the Abyssal achievement and title of Beginner Slayer!'

'And the reward is...'

Chapter end