Rise of the Rejected Deity from Chaos-Chapter 191 - 190: The Commander’s Death?

The commander was numb and speechless, unable to react or utter anything. His eyes could only follow Seiya's back as he vanished into the chambers.

Even as everything had happened right in front of his eyes, he still found it hard to believe. His mind couldn't help but question the possibility of it being an illusion conjured up by his mind because he was close to death's door.

It could after all, undoubtedly all be him merely seeing things as he drew closer to death. According to him, it felt impossible. After all, Seiya had not simply dispatched the killers with usual techniques or skills—he brutally tore them apart with his mere hands!

He tore them flesh from flesh, severed their heads, ripped out their hearts, and even exploded their skulls. All with his mere hands!

This was something the commander had never seen. No matter how strong the person was, they always still relied on their awakened abilities to fight. Yet, this kid had used no awakened ability, and still effortlessly defeated the several skilled adults.

There was no doubt Seiya's skills were top-tier because his speed was impeccable. The commander's eyes couldn't even follow some of his attacks as they were too fast, and unpredicted.

There were such other ways to have gotten rid of the killers, but Seiya's ways were brutal and ruthless. The commander wouldn't have thought in all his years that a child that calm could've been this ruthless.

Nevertheless, it couldn't be refuted that the commander's life was saved by Seiya. Whether intended or not.

But what was that about not getting a single sleep? The commander wondered to himself, eyes lingering on the door to his chambers. He also said his eyes were strained. Why?

As the commander puzzled over things in his mind, he questioned Seiya's real identity. His real background, and the real reason he had been brought in by Kaeliyus. Was it after all, to really kill him?

No no, that can't be, else he wouldn't have saved me.

Then, is he some kind of secret agent? Like these trained assassins, is he a spy or something more? freeweɓnovel.cøm

The commander questioned the possibility of Seiya belonging to a secret organization because his finesse looked to be well perfected. And that could only be achieved by rigorous training.

Say he was indeed from a secret organization, what is his motive for coming here then? The commander wondered if he was doing wrong by granting the ID as they had requested.

The commander remained lying where he had been thrashed, bloodied and wounded all over. To get up or even move, he'd have to struggle a lot and endure the biting pain.

Moreover, Seiya had warned him not to make any noise, so he didn't want to. After seeing what he was capable of, and not knowing his true origin or motives, the commander wasn't dumb enough to get on Seiya's bad side. Not when he was already that close to death's door.

Even a mere flick of Seiya's finger might end him at this point. He had to tread more carefully than ever.

The commander's eyes slowly shifted toward the barrier, studying it to be the one of the kinds to eventually fade with time. If he chooses to remain where he laid so as not to annoy Seiya or make any noise, by tomorrow, the barrier would've for sure disappeared. And his assistant would find him the very morning, and have him healed.

That seemed a good idea to the commander: simply doing nothing, and waiting for help the next morning. Even his eyes were heavy, they craved rest.

However, the commander couldn't welcome the thoughts of sleeping when a potential threat was right inside his chambers. He was well aware that even if he didn't fall asleep, it'll still be easy to get rid of him.

Despite knowing that, however, he didn't want to succumb. If he will get killed, he preferred seeing who and how he was killed. Rather than dying mysteriously in his sleep.

But even when the commander's spirit was willed and determined, his flesh was weak. His heavy eyes slowly drifted together, his eyelids closing and opening till they were half lidded.

He wanted to resist the urge to sleep, but his body wouldn't comply. No matter how hard he tried to peer open his eyes, his body eventually gave in, and he drifted into a deep slumber.

His head tilted to the side, resting limply against his shoulder. Every breath sent a dull ache through his battered form, and a cruel, frigid cold clung to his wounds, harsh and biting. But none of it reached him. The depths of his sleep were too profound, too consuming, to feel any pain.

In the chambers, Seiya had also taken a bath to cleanse himself of all the blood. And after that, he had returned to bed, and laid sprawled—falling into a deep sleep.

_ _ _

The next morning, both Seiya and the commander were still in their deep sleep, neither ready to even wake up.

Just outside the chambers where the commander rested, the morning sun had managed to penetrate through the cracked broken walls—illuminating the dark space.

The barrier had long faded, and scattered across the ground lay the corpses of those sent to assassinate him.

The blood smeared and spread across the entirety of the area, though dried by time, clung stubbornly to the surroundings, its dark sheen giving the unsettling illusion that it was still fresh.

By one of the cracked walls, the commander rested, body leaned back and slouched across the ground. His upper body slightly hunched forward, his head hanging to the side with his entire body covered in red—his wounds visible.

As his assistant made his way in like he does every single morning to greet the commander, and help him get ready for the day, he froze right on the spot the moment his eyes befell the carnage.

The leaf green colored coat that he had prepared for the commander in his grasp, slipped to the ground, his heart shattering into a million pieces with his mouth agape.

Seeing the commander resting that way, looking so peaceful with his blond hair falling over his face, and not moving an inch, the assistant's eyes glistened with tears.

He couldn't believe the commander had gone to rest like that without a warning. Only yesterday had he seen him, yet now, he was gone.

"Commander," he called in a raspy voice, barely above a whisper as he cried—mourning the commander.