My Last Wish is to XXXX Hot Guys! – Huh? No you’re not. You’re going to bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms!

Chapter 41: Corruption Of An Angel



Lumeria POV

She opens her eyes to one of the four bowl haircut motherfuckers towering over her. Darting her hand over his throat. He doesn’t even register it at first. But she’s grasping harder, he chokes out a feeble,  

“Wha-?” before she stands up. The shackles snap like threads. She twists her neck to crack her stiff bones. Her clothes are all tattered up at this point. White fluids trailing down her legs. God, that feels disgusting.  

She tests her strength, grabbing his arm, with a gentle tug, it pops off easily like joints of a doll. The blood sprays out like a fountain. Then he finally registers, widening his eyes to scream. Whereas the three others backs away, swords drawn, they immediately try to lunge at her, 

“What the fuck is going on?”  

“How did this bitch suddenly get this strong?” 

“Stay.” she commands. A glowing black emblem bursts forth beneath their feet. Halting them in place. Then she turns towards bowl haircut number one. He’s learnt his lesson now, clawing at her grip, tears running down his face,

“Please... Please. Let me go. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” she rips off his other arm easily as the first. Then both his legs. Finally, his sad excuse of a penis before discarding him onto the ground. Something freely stretches its wings inside her. Like a caged bird broken free. There’s a thrill to this. An exhilaration of having her powers back. An exhilaration to dominate. To express... this feeling. This feeling she can’t quite put her finger to yet. Then she finally turns towards the remaining three. One of them pissed himself. She wipes the smudge of blood from her cheek, 

“First one who tells me where Rakgar is will be spared.” They don’t answer her immediately. Perhaps they need a little more encouragement. She rips the second motherfucker to pieces resembling the first. The third one immediately stutters,  

“He’s on top of the battlement.” She shambles both of them to gruesome cubes too before slitting her wrist against a sharp rock to heal their wounds. The third motherfucker looks completely betrayed,  

“I thought you said I’ll be spared.” she tauntingly taps his cheek, 

“Don’t be silly. Rapists don’t deserve redemption. All four of you will live out the rest of your days in this cell as limbless, dickless nuggets until you slowly starve. And once you become delirious enough, you can slowly wiggle your way to your severed body parts and consume that like the lowly worms you are.” It’s so satisfying to watch despair overtake their eyes.  

Then she looks towards the lady in the barrel. Wascald’s older daughter. She’s completely unresponsive now. Leaning against the lid. Still breathing. Shallowly. She puts her out of her misery with a snap of her finger. Exploding her head. She at least deserves the deliverance of death after being tortured for so long.  

Next she punches a hole straight through the tower, crumbling a massive gap. The noise startles the patrols in the vicinity to look up. A confusion in their glance. But they’re not who she’s focusing on. She spots a flash of white on top of the battlement. Soril’s head on a spike, his body next to him. Flesh, rotting off in chunks. Something extremely bitter wells inside her. Stinging her like flaming needles. She knows what this feeling is, unbridled rage. And despite the countless blue banners and tents propped up, all she sees is red. She’s going to make them pay blood for blood, and she thinks she's going to enjoy the entire process. 

The Estelians are being drawn towards her after being alerted to the commotion.  

“Gather.” Her black emblem, like a whirlpool is pulling everyone in the vicinity group up. It’s easier to wipe everyone this way. She waves another giant emblem above their heads.  

The burst of purple draws their attention as they watch in horror the thousand light spears, dark as the midnight seas, that are emerging. Then with another command,  

“Stay.” She traps everyone in place for the slaughter. Descending it like rain before they even register what’s happening. Skewing them like kebabs. The entire scene beneath her explodes in a sea of crimson. A scarlet tide, slowly creeping and claiming, beneath the carcass mountain. The others outside her effect area are escaping towards the gate screaming,  

“Open the gates! Monster. Monster! Run for your lives!” after witnessing the horrors. Bathory cheers inside her head,  

Holy crap you’re overpowered as shit! 

It emboldens her with a smile,  

“You haven’t even seen the start of all the fucked-up shit I can do.”  

She’s trying to single out where Rakgar is. She spots him coming down the tower on a ladder. Finally registered in his dull gorilla brain that something’s wrong. She backs up all the way to the metal bars. Jump kicks herself off it to launch herself straight for him like a projectile. Denting the iron with a sharp screech. She crashes into the tower side like a wrecking ball. Collapsing the structure. She picks Rakgar up by the collar the moment he makes eye contact. Smashing him into the ground before he comprehends what’s going on. The impact stirs like a boulder dropped into a lake. She leaps down after. He’s picking himself up from the rubble,  

“What is this bullshit?” he’s confused,  

“What demon did you sell your soul to this time to gain this ungodly power?” drawing his claymore at her, he charges in. She catches it by the blade. Completely halting his swing. Cracking it beneath her fingers, and she can’t help to scoff at the irony, 

“Quite the contrary. It was an adolescent girl who got sick of getting repeatedly violated by your filthy dogs.” she shatters the weapon. Pushing him down. He’s completely perplexed. Oh. She’ll change that. She’ll change that soon. She straddles him across the hips before tearing off the reforged chest piece. He finally begins struggling once he realizes he’s trapped. The rest of the Estelian are lunging at her, attempting to stop her,  

“Stay.” she roots them again, stopping them in a semi-circle,

 

“Down.” and puts them on a knee, 

“All of you will helplessly watch as I brutalize your commander that you so dearly care about.” Rakgar attempts to stop her by the wrist. She rips it entirely off. Throws his hand to a horrified spectator. Rakgar looks towards the carcass mountain, then taunts through bated breaths,  

“Is this your true nature, monster? Did you finally drop the pretense?” and she lets all the venom bubbling inside her spill out, 

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. You should’ve shown Soril mercy. Now, you will spend your last moments in excruciating pain. You will live how Soril felt before his death. A hundred times over. A thousand times over. Until you apologize, until you regret and beg me to let you die.” He grimaces at the flesh wound after realizing his sword hand is completely gone. Grinding his teeth at her, 

“Apologize? Regret?” he contempt her, “I have nothing to apologize and regret to the man whose father slayed mine. To the monster who’s killed countless of my people and my sister. You ought to apologize and regret. I will gladly kill Soril Blaine a thousand times over. I will gladly have you raped a thousand times over.”  

With a light push, she cracks his ribs into his lungs, reminds him, “I have power over you. I can force you to submit. I will violate your will according to my whims.” he spits blood on her face, 

“Do your worst. Witch.”  

She digs her fingers beneath his skin. Into his intestines. Hot blooded yet lukewarm. He screams as she begins to pull it out, slowly with laborious intent, like pasta from a bowl, confetti from a party popper. She wants him to feel it. Every second of it. Then she tears her veins with her teeth, neatly healing him back to health before he can die from it,  

“Apologize. Apologize for killing Soril.” He’s still hyperventilating from the pain, refusing to relent, 

“Fuck you.” She repeats the disembowelment all over again,  

“Say it! Say you’re sorry! Say you regret your actions! Say you should have shown him mercy!” he won’t. There’s so much pride in him he won’t even let her taste his fear. But the grotesque scene scares the Estelians pale and trembling. Trying to budge against their restraints. A few of them, pleading for Rakgar’s life. Most of them are frightful for themselves. Through the corner of her eyes, she sees the Lanky Blondie. The pity and guilt he once looked her with completely changes to that of horror and disgust.  

Good. They need to witness what cruelty and tragedy do. Then, she suddenly feels lightheaded. Something feels like it’s ripping her apart. Her vision flashes to make her lose consciousness. Collapsing her to the ground. The soldiers find chance to escape as she weakens,  

“Run! Run away! Take Rakgar! Abandon Kanra!” One of them throws her against a wall to a side. Picking their commander up to scamper for their lives. No. She didn’t get to finish him off yet, she was halfway healing him. She tries to chase after. She can’t stand up. She’s losing control of this body. Her head rings. Then her sight darkens. She’s pulled to white. Hah! 

Father. Father. Father. You really are such, a fucking prick. You won’t even give me the satisfaction to make the sinners repent. 


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