Chương 6: Role Without A Self: Chapter 5

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. The sound of clapping woke Nate Monet from his frantic massacre, breaking through his frantic state almost as if shattering the illusion in front of him. He turned his gaze toward the direction the sound was coming from and found that the person he thought he had killed was standing several feet away, not a hair out of place.

"Did you enjoy the play?" he said, a grin plastered on his chiseled face. Nate Monet shook with horror. If the person he attacked was not the Duke, then who? He looked down at the corpse in front of him. His eyes slowly traveled from the twisted legs, to the body, to the wounds he had inflicted. He had pulled the tendons from the muscles, split the stomach open, and ripped out the heart tendons and small intestine, trying to ensure the maximum pain the person could feel before allowing him the relief of death.

As his gaze made its way up to the man's face, he noticed that the man had died with his eyes open, looking terrified, his mouth open as though to scream for help. But due to the fact that he had ripped out his tongue when he had gotten sick of the man mocking him, he could not even let out his last words. The man stumbled back. Now that the hallucination was gone, his senses came back online, and the truth of what happened kept replaying in his mind.

The young man had been repeatedly screaming for help, asking him to stop, and crying out, wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve this end. But Nate, consumed by his rage and the illusion created from the Duke's provocation, had only seen the Duke standing before him. When the young man begged him to stop, Nate had ignored him, convinced he was hearing the Duke's voice instead. He had ripped out the man's tongue, saying that he was too noisy. Nate rubbed his mouth before stopping to retch.

He hadn't eaten anything in the past three days, so all he could do was heave repeatedly. The Duke stepped forward, step by step, before stepping on the man's hand and grinding his heel into it, causing the man to cry out in pain. And as Nate was about to lash out, he felt weak, as though something was taking back his power. Even though he tried to hide his confusion, it was already too late. The Duke had noticed it.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha." The Duke burst out into manic laughter.

"So it was true. Who would have thought that the Goddess, fickle as she always is when it comes to the innocent, would not care whether her messenger was deceived or not, and would still punish her own holder and vessel?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha." He turned away from the man who was crouching on the floor, screaming in pain, almost scratching at his skin, somehow trying to claw into himself to stop the sensation of something being emptied.

"My dear daughter, do you see how fickle the Goddess you serve is? Quite a fickle woman she is, wouldn't you agree?" The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Seraphina, for now, was being held down by her maids and attendants, looking defiantly at her own father. Her purple eyes burned brightly as she stared intensely at him.

"I wonder, when given a choice between a vessel who killed an innocent man and my daughter, who would she pick?" As Nate continued losing his power, the pain eventually lessened, and he stopped screaming and shaking. His eyes remained open due to the sheer pain he felt, but slowly, the golden irises quietly faded, revealing the faint dull bluish-gray color underneath. The more the gold layer faded, the more visible it became.

And as it faded away completely, Saintess Seraphina, who was still being held down on her couch, felt warmth start to envelop her body, a power and sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. Slowly, her purple eyes changed, shifting from deep purple all the way to a radiant gold. After her eyes completely changed, her powers returned, this time much stronger than before. And because of that, she could see the darkness that enveloped her own father.

The more she looked, the more the darkness twisted and turned, resembling the many souls that had died at her father's fingertips and through his influence. He wasn't the only one she saw. Her own guards, even her attendants, everything came at her way too fast. And after enjoying five years, well, actually, six years of peace, she couldn't handle it as she used to. She covered her mouth, pushing the attendants aside. The memories were pouring into her, sweeping away all the control that she had.

The pain and the revenge that those souls screamed for came at her in waves that she never imagined were possible. It was all too much for her that she passed out completely. The Duke watched his daughter with cold indifference.

"What a pity," he said lightly.

"Sadly, she's going to miss a good show, wouldn't you say, Nate Monet?" He went over, kicking the young man. He seemed nearly lifeless. The young man seemed to want to strike forward, but his movements were awkward. The Duke looked at him for a while before bursting into laughter again.

"The Goddess is quite cruel, isn't she? Taking away your eyesight. How pitiable." He waved his hand before an attendant brought forth an antidote.

"Heal the wretch," the Duke said. The attendant followed his order, grabbing the man's face, forcefully opening his mouth, and pouring the antidote down. After ensuring the last drop went down his mouth, he covered him completely, and no matter how the man frothed, moved, and struggled, his mouth remained covered until he had drained every single last drop. After ensuring that it was finished, the attendant jumped back into the darkness.

After he left, Nate started coughing, but before he could even let out a second cough, his eyes began to sting. And as he was about to try to claw his eyes out, the Duke activated his magic. Since Nate was now nothing but a regular man, he could not even fight back. His hands were frozen. His whole body was frozen in a stiff, frozen-like state as his feet and neck remained restrained, and pain radiated through his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to scream, his body refused to do so.

Eventually, after some time, though his eyes were quite swollen, he was able to slowly start regaining his sight. After doing so, the Duke made him move according to his will, making him stand on his own two feet. As he did so, the Duke called forth Seraphina's attendants to bring tables and chairs, and called the mealers to bring forth the food. And so they did. He controlled the young man to go and eat. The young man screamed, but he couldn't.

He felt trapped in his own body, and he couldn't stop himself from walking over, taking a seat, and eating everything until the very last bite.

"So, how did you enjoy your sister?" the Duke said lightly, asking a seemingly simple question. But to Nate Monet, that question shattered his will.

"Oh, I forgot," the Duke said lightly, wiping his hand.

"You need to speak in order to answer my question." Once freed, instead of bothering with the old man, Nate took this time to bite off his tongue and die.

"Why do they always do this?" the Duke said in a lighthearted voice. Part 1: The End Part 2: The Reborn Plot Begins.