Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!-Chapter 622: The King And His Guards

"Protect the king and queen while I'm gone." Despite still being reluctant to leave, the knight left the royals in the hands of his subordinates. Ignoring everyone and everything, even the queen, as he passed, he marched down the steps unhindered with a mind brewing with anger and frustration.

"Every day..." Reaching for the strap on the back of his helmet, the knight quickly undid it and threw the helmet to the ground. There was no use hiding his identity anymore anyway, not after what he'd decided to do once he was out there. "Every day, this world gives me more reason to want to have died in that bloody war."

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Tired of life as a spectre, he longed for the cold embrace of death. Yet his promise to protect the king kept him alive, not to mention the fact that he couldn't die unless he was killed in a mortal battle against a true enemy. Getting closer and closer to the main hall where Aredin had brought the injured soldiers, Markus undid the armor more and more, revealing a set of chain mail and leather clothes.

Passing by the shocked healers, he made his way outside, where the first thing he noticed was a collection of Succubi floating high in the sky with an injured soldier–or rather, a horror-was fighting against a group of toying enemies. Looking closer, he noticed a weapon that he'd not seen in a long time.

"A rifle?" The same weapon as one of Nightsilver's companions. He knew it well and the devastation that it could bring. Slowly, his expression changed as he watched the succubi being struck down and the soldier being blasted by the weapons of the intruders. Thankfully, being so close, the rifleman couldn't line a shot at him, but another person was slashing at his flesh with a chainsaw for an arm.

'Psionic energy…' Looking closely at the last of the intruding trio–a woman dressed in small shorts and a tank top with frills, Markus knew everything that he wanted to and now came the turn to show them why he was chosen to carry the banner of Murdok's army.

"Do not blame me for your death, you brought this upon yourselves…" Spreading his arms wide, he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then, raising his hands high in the air, he screamed the spell that split a tear through the realms of the dead. "A HUNDRED CURSE UPON YOUR SOULS!!"

And so the sky tore in two and the space around the intruders shattered, the ground sank into a pit in the garden and came through every hole and tear, the colossal hands of lesser gods and demons that Markus had slaughtered. Not a second passed, and the astral hand lunged at the intruders. A few swatted the soldier away from them, and once the cost was clear, the enemies were torn limb from limb.

Their screams thundered like lightning, and their blood gushed like rain under the cloudy skies. But it was far from the end of their being, as one after the other, their bodies were pulled into the tears and taken through every agony of the necrotic world–all in a few seconds' time. And even when thrown around and their heads smashed to the ground like a child does its toys, their souls refused to let go of their bodies, and the agony continued for even the lesser gods lived through and across dimensions at once.

For them, there was no past nor a future–it was merely another dimension to leap across. Thus, a thousand years' agony, that's what became of the intruders. That is before their bodies were slammed into the ground right before Markus. Like squashed mosquitoes, their clothes non-existent and their skin charred, bruised, and ridden with the burden of necroflowers, they were beyond repair, and even souls have been scarred for what they'd endured for a thousand years being tossed around by the demons and gods.

"Now to find out what shitstain sent you here…" Having made an example out of the intruders to deter the rival gods from even attempting something like this again, Markus dragged the bodies to the dungeons to be interrogated by him and the hero's people.

Needless to say, the banquet was cancelled and the soldiers dismissed. Those who'd survived were free to go home, however, when June approached her lover, she realized that there were many problems that remained to be sorted. But at last, nothing could be done–not before the hero and the priestess arrived back home.