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VOL 2 | CHAPTER 171: | THE FALL OF THE PETA KINGDOM

  CHAPTER 171: | THE FALL OF THE PETA KINGDOM

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  "Kahahahaha, how unexpected!!! I didn't think that the feared governor of the Loika Kingdom would be such an easy prey!!!" roared the insane Henry, his laughter booming like thunder rolling over the dunes, shaking loose more sand from nearby ridges.

  Kairo frowned at his words, the sting of them mixing with the burning pain in his broken shoulder, and shifted into a defensive stance, his grip tightening on his axe despite the protest from his mangled arm.

  Now he was more vulnerable, more open to Henry's, brute like combat style, so he stared at him straight in the eyes, those mad, gleaming orbs, and muttered, "I too didn't expect that someone mad enough would take my axe head on." The words came out gritted through clenched teeth, the desert wind carrying them away like whispers.

  Henry burst into an even louder laughter, swinging his halberd wildly before striking it into the ground with a forceful stab that sent cracks spiderwebbing through the sand. "I am not a madman, Kairo!!! I am a warrior longing for an honorable death by a warrior stronger than me!!!" His shout echoed far, stirring distant birds from their hidden perches in the sparse scrub.

  Kairo nodded once, a grim acknowledgment to his barbaric attitude, then charged again, ignoring the enormous pain gnawing at his shoulder like a ravenous beast, that sent waves of agony pulsing with his every heartbeat. He swung his axe toward Henry with ferocious determination, the weapon arcing through the air in a blur.

  Henry smiled at the attempt, dodging it with surprising ease for his bulk, his boots sinking into the soft sand as he pivoted. Then he countered with a horizontal arc of his halberd, the blade singing a deadly tune.

  Kairo grabbed the pole of Henry's halberd with his injured hand, the contact sending fresh jolts of fire up his arm, he wanted to scream from the torment, but bit it down, channeling it into fury. He brought his axe crashing toward Henry's face, the metal edge hungry for blood.

  Henry smiled wider, letting go of his grip just before the axe could connect, missing by a mere inch, the whoosh of it ruffling his beard. Then he unleashed an explosive punch to Kairo's neck, the fist landing like a battering ram, as his knuckles cracking against flesh and bone.

  Kairo reeled away, stumbling, his grip on the halberd slipping as he gasped for air, the world tilting in the blistering heat. The damage from Henry's punch was greater than expected, it was crushing impact that made his throat burn like it was on fire and his vision hazing to darkness, as the taste of bile begun to creep up in his mouth.

  Before Kairo could recover, sucking in ragged breaths that scorched his lungs with hot desert air, Henry had already loomed in front of him, his halberd poised to lunge at his neck like a viper striking.

  But just as the spear thrust forward, Kairo summoned a golden shield from thin air, the ethereal barrier shimmering into existence with a low hum, absorbing the impact with a resonant boom that vibrated through their bones.

  Taking the attack head-on, Kairo followed up with a kick to Henry's stomach, the boot connecting solidly and sending him hurtling into the sky, sand trailing from his form like a comet's tail.

  Hastily, Kairo formed a barrage of golden spikes, their points glinting lethally as he hurled them upward to intercept Henry, leaving no room for escape in the vast blue expanse above.

  But to his dismay, Henry's battle instincts were monstrous than he had expected, it was honed to perfection that he couldn't comprehend, how was it possible for a mere human to dodge his barrage of attacks?

  Henry twisted mid-air, dodging the first volley with acrobatic grace, the spikes whistling past and embedding into distant dunes with muffled thuds. Then he rammed his halberd into the next rounds, shattering them in explosions of golden shards that rained down like glittering confetti, crushing Kairo's hopes of landing a solid hit.

  Henry let out a mad grin, his teeth bared in ecstasy, as he imagined the sweet moment when his halberd would rip through Kairo's torso, the thought alone sent a thrill through his spine.

  He lifted the weapon high above his head, muscles straining under his skin, ready for a massive downward strike that promised devastation.

  Kairo, in response, erected a threefold golden shield, a layered barrier glowing with otherworldly light, humming with protective energy, to ward off the assault. Meanwhile, he prepared his own finishing blow, something to incapacitate Henry in one fell swoop.

  He closed his eyes amid the chaos, letting memories flood in like a soothing tide, his lovely daughter boisterously running through the sunlit hallways of his castle, her laughter echoing like bells, his wife sipping tea from his cup, waving with that warm, knowing smile. 'Soon, I will meet them,' he promised himself silently, the vow steeling his resolve as the desert wind howled around them.

  He stared at the threefold golden shields cracking and splintering under the sheer, unrelenting force of Henry's attack, shards flying like fireworks. With a final surge, Kairo swung his battle axe to meet the onslaught head-on, no words for techniques, just pure, raw power.

  And in the heat of the moment he released his grip at the critical moment, allowing Henry's halberd to cleave through his shoulder and deep into his torso, the blade bite through his nerves with excruciating pain, hot blood gushing forth in a torrent that soaked the sand crimson, the metallic scent overwhelming his nostrils.

  Halved and broken, Kairo collapsed into the dunes, smiling through bloodied lips as he whispered his final words amid Henry's signature laughter booming like victory drums. "I see... so I had failed."

  Then Kairo closed his eyes, his body going limp as the 'Cloud Regime Cavalry' that had accompanied him rushed forward in a thunder of hooves, their faces twisted in horror and sorrow. But their governor was already gone, and they could only retreat in a haze of grief, as the desert swallowing their cries.

  Henry, still cackling, shouted to the winds, "Kahahahaha, how delightful! I didn't think that the governor of the Loika could put up such a fight! If I had known, I would have fought him earlier!!!"

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  His commanders joined in the elation, their cheers rising like a triumphant chorus, scarcely believing that their ascent to supremacy would begin with the fall of their sworn enemy. The air buzzed with their excitement, the sun casting long shadows as they reveled in the moment.

  But before the celebration could fully ignite, one of the messengers that they'd dispatched to the kingdom came galloping back, his horse frothing at the mouth, shouting with raw urgency that cut through the joy like a knife. "Governor!!! Governor, the Kingdom has been invaded by the EVERNIGHT CULT!!!"

  The words hit like a sandstorm, shaking Henry to his core. Rage boiled in his blood as his features contorted uncontrollably as he mounted his horse in a fluid leap, the beast noticing its master intent snorted, then galloped off through the plains, his commanders scrambling to follow.

  "LET US DEPART AND BEHEAD THOSE BITCHES!!!" His roar faded into the distance, leaving the bloodied dunes silent once more, the wind already beginning to erase the footprints of battle.

  ---

  ~ ? ~ West of the Lahaina Empire — In the Outskirts of the Loika Kingdom ~ ? ~

  "Kneel..." The word rolled out like thunder in their hearts.

  The hundreds of men clad in heavy plate armor, all of them hardened knights of the Loika Kingdom, dropped to their knees in the cold desert sand.

  While the moonlight gleamed off their dented pauldrons and sweat-slicked faces as they glared upward at the one entity who had hovered up into the air in a lofty manner.

  The night was young, the air thick with the smell of iron, horse sweat, and the faint metallic bile of blood sipping out of their skin as the effects of her words, didn't just force them to kneel but also bleed at the pressure that came afterwards.

  Ishtar, shedding every last pretense, had finally revealed her true purpose. Her purpose weren't grand unlike the other's but it's enough for now, since a single command of hers could only do this, she could only force obedience from those who had sworn their lives to protect, to honor, to die for something greater than themselves, to kneel.

  These were the knights who had trained through pain, a pain that would break any lesser men. They had bled rivers of blood to shield what was precious to them. They had killed without hesitation to safeguard their lands, their families, their code.

  For honor had been hammered into them since the day they first lifted a practice sword as trainees. Glory had been their birthright the moment their fate with the swords were decided by the world.

  They were the knights of the Loika Kingdom. Their mission had always been ever glorious, or at least that was the pretty lie they told themselves around the campfires. It was their sacred honor to protect the common folk from harm.

  It was their duty to uphold chivalry, even when the world laughed at the word. They had once been weak humans themselves, after all. Power should never be used to crush those still struggling beneath it, no matter the difference in birth or fortune.

  They were chivalrous knights who upheld justice. They followed a code of honor, a code of conduct. Unlike the Templars, those zealots who trampled innocent lives as long as their divine mission was fulfilled.

  The Templars ignored human suffering in the name of holy judgment, blinded by their crusade against heretics who dared to question the light. The Templars were cruel in ways that made even these battle-scarred men uneasy.

  And yet… the knights of Loika weren’t all righteous saints, no matter what the traveling merchants spun in their tavern tales. They had killed the weak before.

  They had carried out verdicts handed down by lords who were little more than animals dripped in fine silk that their wealth afforded them. But they told themselves it wasn’t entirely their fault.

  It wasnt their fault, that they had sworn loyalty to the wrong man, that was all. A lord unworthy of their devotion. A beast worse than any barbarian at the gates.

  Even when they learned the truth, that their governor, Kairo, had long betrayed the Empire out of fear for that his family would be involved in them, all of them understood since they too didn't want it to happen to their family, so they could not forsake him.

  The Templars’ cruelty was infamous, their notoriety for indulging themselves in tortururing the heretics in torture chambers were feared by many, being suspected to be a heretic meant that sleepless nights of you screaming for days were a reality.

  The rights to be a human in this point of time were nonexistent and Kairo, knew it too so his desperate attempt to spare his child from such a fate, had made him to conspire with the very barbarians who raided their borders every season, bringing ruin and fire to villages in the borders.

  But as knights bound to their lord, they could not turn him over to the Empire. He was still their governor until death claimed him. So they honored his final request: escort his wife and daughter to safety beyond the frontier. They had promised. They had sworn.

  "Heretics!!! Capture the HERETICS, KNIGHTS OF THE LOIKA KINGDOM!!!" Commander Liam’s voice cracked like a whip as he charged forward, boots pounding the sand, sword raised high. His target was the girl they had escorted, the daughter of their lord.

  But the lively, adorable little girl he remembered from stolen glances in the castle halls was gone. In her place stood a malevolent gorgon, eyes gleaming with serpentine malice, straight out of the seventh layer of hell. Her scales shimmered faintly beneath her pale skin. Her hair writhed like living tendrils.

  Liam’s heart lurched. How could this be? The sweet child he had once smiled at, the one who used to chase butterflies in the courtyard, she was nothing but a monster wearing her face? How could he, a knight sworn to his lord, let this disgusting creature escape when their true mistress was weeping in shock behind him?

  Ishtar’s betrayal had blindsided them all. Who could have guessed the girl they protected was a gorgon in disguise?

  She merely smirked, lifting one elegant hand. Her voice murmured through the night air, soft and terrible. "The hand of creation… lend me your strength."

  She flicked her wrist. Reality itself twisted like wet cloth being wrung.

  The ground shuddered. Then, from the sand, ten thousand hands erupted, massive, grotesque limbs woven from earth, stone, and writhing roots. They clawed upward, interlocking, fusing into a single gigantic arm that seized Liam mid-charge. Its fingers were like iron chains clamped around his ankles.

  He froze in the air, his heart slamming against his ribs. The grip was harder than any alloy mankind had ever forged. It was cold and unyielding by nature, as the smell of damp soil and crushed rock filled his nostrils.

  Then the screams began. All around him, the same monstrous hands that seized his feet bursted from the desert floor, latching onto his ninety-nine subordinates.

  The knights who had laughed with him around fires, who had bled beside him in border skirmishes, were now being dragged downward.

  "Com-Commander Liam… please… help us…!" One knight’s voice broke through the chaos.

  As blood streamed from his nose, then his eyes, forced out by the crushing pressure as the earth swallowed him inch by inch. His armored chest plate groaned under the prasure, as the sand poured into the gaps.

  "S… save…" another voice cut off mid-plea, but the sand devoured him whole before he could finish his sentence.

  "Noooo! Save me! Please…!"

  Countless others wailed in raw despair, their cries echoing across the moonlit dunes like a dying chorus. Liam watched, trembling uncontrollably, as the ground pulled him down too. His legs vanished first, then his waist. The cold embrace of the earth climbed his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

  His vision darkened. The last thing he saw was Ishtar descending gracefully to the sand, turning her head toward the weeping woman who had once been called mother.

  Satisfied with the limits of her strength, Ishtar nodded once. But a flicker of guilt could be seen on her face, it was small insignificant even, compared to the order of her mother... no her master, though it was fleeting, guilt still crossed her features.

  Thought she had lived long enough for her to ignore such guilt, but it's just her nature that wouldn't allow her to become the twisted villain like her father.

  So Ishtar spoke softly, almost gently. "Leah… your daughter is safe and sound in the church. So stop crying. Follow me."

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