Peacekeeper's Wrath

I remained solemn and sat down at the top of the tallest tree in the elven region. The wind blew like a desert storm, making the branches dance with a musical tone. The green leaves poured into the swirling wind; their spiral waves made me wonder why the great elf in this kingdom wanted to exterminate his own kind.

This puzzling thought made me curious about his past. His entire plan worked smoothly without flaws, but his preparations seemed abrupt. From the first day of stepping into this land, I felt the unwavering call of elven souls, dragging me to act recklessly.

Throughout the entire day, I sat there watching his plan unfold. I had no intention of stopping him, as it also benefited me greatly. That day alone, I gathered many fallen souls, making me even stronger.

This near-fall would grant me more than I needed. Although I also absorbed memories and talents, I didn't think they were truly useful, especially the talents. I couldn't use them at will; they were only useless leftovers of life.

A girl in a dark robe appeared at my side, looking frustrated and confused. "What do you need?" I asked, narrowing my gaze.

She bowed her head and glanced south. "Pardon my unattended intrusion, my Lord, but the counter-plan is in place; we should move!" she mumbled, her eyes full of doubt.

I glared at her and thought for a minute. She was one of the twelve leaders of my secret society, which I built after discovering Marquez the Wise's extermination plan. This organization worked to silently stop his plan and maintain peace in the kingdom.

Although I hadn't come up with a name yet, they worked flawlessly under my command and blessed the kingdom with their capabilities. I planned to dissolve this secret society after this operation, so I would need to dismiss them afterward.

"Let's wait for the sixth moon to appear and then act!" I muttered, unleashing my mist and standing on the swaying branch.

"Understood, my Lord. In the name of my ancestors, I will do my best to save the peace!" She dashed down and waved goodbye.

What path should I take? Before me was an empty road, and I didn't know the best way to choose. "I guess I need to choose both sides!" I muttered, jumping down. I formed dark feathers around my back and began to fly.

....*

Outside the Capulet mansion, a huge theater with a capacity of hundreds of thousands was overflowing with sobbing elves. The floor was soft and clean, but the throng of elves turned it to dust. The place was sealed with an anti-magic barrier, rendering their magic useless.

Many elves relied on magic and ignored physical aspects, resulting in fragile bodies. This made them more vulnerable to attack.

In the center of the theater, Hippocrates stood with the Rwarter band. Ronson brought the three royals to the middle and began to sing a catastrophic melody.

"Now everyone! Please watch their performance properly!" Marquez the Wise muttered, walking toward the middle and clapping loudly.

Hippocrates and the others also clapped, wearing dark robes with hemlock petals. Their loud, vivid smiles made the others tremble with fear.

"To all of you, I gladly present the heads of the kingdom officials. Although the five judges' heads are not here because I carelessly left them in the capital, I assure you I've killed every noble in the region. So let's rejoice and enjoy this heartwarming performance... don't worry, you'll enjoy the royal deaths of this kingdom!" John the Wise muttered, his voice gentle despite his demonic tone.

"Before we welcome the performance, I will show you my new invention!" Hippocrates muttered, looking into the fearful eyes of the elves.

He pointed his arm to the corner. The elves slowly gazed and saw a demonoid with a disgusting appearance. Everyone shouted menacingly; their eyes were wide open, and tears streamed down their faces.

"Yes, that is! That is my new invention! I used living elves to create this. Don't worry, some of you will also become one of these beautiful works of art," he muttered, glancing at their terrified faces.

The king and queen were cursed and poisoned; they couldn't move or speak. Their eyes were narrowed, and their minds were attending their funeral.

Meanwhile, the princess was unharmed but couldn't move because of a movement seal. Her mind was shouting for help, begging them to stop.

Ronson walked in front of the king and grabbed his neck, revealing the king in a vulnerable position. "Now let's sing with joy!" Ronson muttered, placing a sword to the king's neck. A wave of cries murmured, and the princess, unable to accept the situation, passed out from despair.

"Let's all count down from 10... 9... 8..." The atmosphere was tense as the countdown began.

"...4... 3... 2... 1...—" The countdown reached its peak, and Ronson quickly slashed the king's head. Blood sprayed out, and loud cries filled the area. Before the queen could slowly open her eyes, a striking realization beheaded her heart.

The blood cascaded at her feet, making her lose her mind. She slowly mustered her courage and glanced at her husband. She saw her beloved husband lying on the floor completely unharmed. Silence engulfed the theater; the blood wasn't from the king but from the vocalist, Ronson.

His right hand was cleanly cut, and red liquid flooded from it. A girl with golden hair and crimson eyes stood in the middle of the area, holding her bloody sword adorned with red roses.

Everyone looked stunned and shifted their gazes to the maiden. A realization struck them, and the thought of salvation was flying around.

"What... Argg... grasp..." Ronson shouted, his eyes clinging for answers.

Hippocrates quickly pointed his index finger and shouted a cursed spell, but Lhara brushed it off by dodging quickly. Another girl appeared, holding a grimoire. Her crimson hair flowed like a river of fire; her piercing eyes sparkled like smooth gemstones.

She unleashed a lightning bolt toward the other Rwarter members. They quickly seized the opportunity and attempted to kill the queen. Before the strike hit the queen, it was parried by Kiyara's life-hand. She evaded the man's defenses and pounced, striking his neck, leaving him unconscious. She quickly shifted her gaze to the remaining members, and they parried and riposted their attacks.

The exchange quickly stopped because of an eminent aura from Marquez the Wise. He clenched his fist and attacked Kimberly. She didn't anticipate the blow and quickly stumbled into the wall; the boundaries scattered around, and cherry liquid spurted from her mouth.

A calm and precious sound emerged, and Kimberly's wounds healed. They quickly gazed from the trail of sound and found the attractive and charming Lady Mirae. She continued her melody while dodging the demonoids around her. She made a clever move and jumped into the throng of demonoids, placing her palm on the floor. A brief splash of light emitted from the area.

The demonoids slowly perished, leaving nothing but a dusty cloud. Marquez the Wise gnashed his teeth, unleashed his sword, and swung at Lhara. The girl deflected the strike but struggled to maintain her balance due to the man's strong grip.

They parried each other with divisive moves; however, Marquez the Wise, holding the oldest title and valuable knowledge of the elves, stood with a great gap in capabilities. Lhara was pushed down, and one of her fingers broke. Kimberly unleashed another lightning bolt, aiming for the man, but he only gazed at her attack, and it was dissolved as if it were nothing.

The hint in his face told them to beware of his capability. He then turned his menacing gaze to Lady Mirae. In the blink of an eye, he was behind her, holding her head and throwing her to the floor, her face brushing against the blood.

Another dash was aimed at Kiyara; a pounce almost hit her, yet she was tripped and fell down unconsciously, dodging the man's quick attack.

A raging blast emerged from Hippocrates's wiggling eyes, and a dark beam of shadow struck Kimberly's right leg, leaving her in agonizing pain.

Another blast emerged from the body of Marquez the Wise, and a luminance of dark aura engulfed the area. The saviors were near their end; the dead end fried hope and trust, casting a shadow of disbelief.

A huge tower of light built up in the middle of the theater. The glow blinded every eye and made everyone's mind more confused. A voice, calm, soft, gentle, and kind, whispered in everyone's thoughts.

Whispered of the unknown: "The laughter of cries reached the ears of the angel of laughter and blessed his chosen being to hold the power of laughter. May joy flood the world."

 .*.*.*.*

A: See you all...