Awakening of the Weakest Slayer

His gaze darted around, It felt as if every single object, every shadow, every mote of dust had its gaze fixed on him, a silent, unified, all-consuming stare.

The beasts, who had been busy devouring the carcass of their fallen comrade, left it at that, their grotesque feast forgotten, as if they had found something more interesting, more appetizing. They stood up, their soulless eyes fixed on Sezel.

Shiki and Vesta, too, left their meal and stood up. Their eyes were fixed on Sezel, their expressions a mixture of confusion and anger, as if he had just uttered some extremely blasphemous statement.

Sezel gulped the knot in his throat and took a few, hesitant steps back. "Okay, listen to me, Vesta," he spoke, his voice a desperate plea, his gaze fixed on her as she unsheathed her sword, its gleaming blade a stark, menacing line in the sunlight. Along with her, Shiki, too, brought out his sword, his face a mask of cold, unwavering resolve. "You too, Shiki. You are being controlled by something. Try to stay calm."

"What are you even saying?" Vesta countered, her voice heavy with righteous anger.

"How dare you say such a thing?" Shiki reverberated, his eyes squinted and locked on Sezel, his grip on his sword tightening.

Not just those two, but the Flesh Reapers, too, were slowly stepping towards him, their movements a slow, inexorable advance, closing in from all directions.

Vesta's features were taught, her face a lingering expression between fury and a deep, unsettling confusion. She halted for a moment, her gaze fixed on the ground, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

The other beasts, and Shiki, soon passed her, their minds and bodies given over completely to the will of their unseen Lord.

But she stood there, her head bowed, her body trembling with a silent, internal struggle.

Perhaps, a doubt of realization had hit her. But then she looked up again, her ruby eyes, locked onto Sezel and the look in them, it was no doubt, disappointment.

Sezel's eyes narrowed as he slowly moved backwards, maintaining the distance between himself and his adversaries, his mind racing, searching for some way, any way, to stop their advance.

But then, Vesta's next words caught him off guard, her voice a broken, trembling whisper. "Is… what you said true?"

Sezel's eyes instantly shifted to her, and he saw it, the burdened, struggling look of someone trying to fight back.

A faint, desperate hope ignited once again. Perhaps she could break free. Perhaps her supreme prowess, could overcome this strange, insidious control.

She spoke again, her gaze still fixed at the ground, her voice a low, heartbroken murmur. "How could you say such a thing about our Lord?"

Sezel's eyes widened, the faint flicker of hope extinguished once again. "Try to fight it, damn it!" he screamed, his voice filled with pure frustration. "Try to remember why you came to this place! Is this place your final destination?"

But his desperate cry was cut short as a Flesh Reaper, lunged at him, its scythe lined up to cut him down.

Sezel reflexively pushed Mari behind him, his other hand searching around his waist for a weapon. But it was then, in that moment of pure, instinctual desperation, that he realized he had nothing. Neither his katana nor his sniper rifle was on him at this time. They were back at the Sanctuary, forgotten and useless.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked up again. The beast had already disappeared into thin air, its fast speed a terrifying testament to its deadly prowess.

"Mari, run away!" he screamed, as he pushed the little girl away and rolled sideways, creating a clear distinction between them, drawing the beasts' attention to himself.

The beast stopped mid-motion, and then lunged towards Sezel again. Not just this one, but three more jumped on him, their scythes raised.

He scrambled back to his feet and tried to run, but the pain in his head, the stabbing, skull-splitting agony, suddenly stung so hard that he fell to his knees, his hands clutching his head.

The voice in his mind had suddenly become irresistible, an emotionless command that was ordering him to stop, to surrender. The fog on his mind had suddenly plummeted, a thick, suffocating blanket that was smothering his thoughts and his very soul.

Sezel, in a final, desperate act of defiance, picked up a sharp-edged piece of rock from the ground. He gritted his teeth as hard as he could, his breath heavy and slow, and then, with a cry of pure agony, he crushed his own finger under it. Blood spattered as his finger twisted and broke, a few tears of pain escaping his eyes.

But the pain, the raw, visceral, all-consuming pain, was so intense that it gave him back his sanity and his clarity. But it was already too late. The beasts had already covered most of the distance. They would be upon him by the time he stood up again.

CLANK!

First, the sound of dry grass moving, and then, the sound of chitin clashing on multiple hard bodies, echoed through the vast, empty factory as the whole area went silent.

Sezel slowly turned his neck over to the other side, a sense of dawning realization taking over him as he looked at his puppet. It was holding back four of the other Flesh Reapers single-handedly, its single scythe a swirling, ethereal wall of purple and black energy against their relentless assault.

He had forgotten about his puppet again, the only thing that was loyal to him right now, the only thing that was fighting for him. But the beast wouldn't be able to hold them off for much longer. It was being pushed back, under the combined strength of the four Flesh Reapers.

And other beasts were also coming to join in, closing in from all sides.

Sezel's gaze flickered to Vesta and Shiki for a heart-stopping beat as he strode to his legs. They were both still standing there, their faces a mask of confusion, as if they were caught in some kind of internal quarrel.

He didn't have much time. So, instead of trying to reason with them, Sezel just ran. He ran towards Mari first and grabbed her hand, his own hand a bloody, mangled mess, and pulled her with him, running inside one of the factories.

There were two ways to enter and exit the factory. He decided to lure the beasts inside, to use the dense, chaotic wilderness as a cover, and then run away while they were searching for him.

He entered one of the ruined factories, and through the dense net of wilderness, he carefully, silently, ran, the blood from his messed-up finger dripping continuously. But he didn't feel much pain anymore. His body was already going numb.