CHAPTER 7: A MAN

A side alley in Birch Street.

A few corpses lay there scattered. They seemed to have died silently without struggling.

The imperial knight was really having a hard time regarding this.

So far 3 dozen knights have been sent to this particular area. Not a single one had made it out alive.

Not a single one!

He was visibly scared.

Who knows he might be the next one!

Just then he saw a flash of a shadow and slumped down-dead.

"Haah....This corpse is the last one of the fourth dozen of knights."

The face of the village chief did not look good. He was furious at this unknown perpetrator.

The next moment a bright light shone from his pocket.

A deep male voice sounded from the other end.

"So?"

"Well.....ummm you see...…"

The chief's legs had long turned to jelly.

"Killed?"

"Y..y…e…s"

"Come to the palace."

"No….Please!!!"

"Give me another chance. Please! I beg you!!" The chief fell down on his knees.

"You already had four."

"Kill him."

The Chief instantly started rolling in the ground shrieking and shouting. His words were barely understood by the people. Slowly his face became ghastly pale and with a hysterical laugh he fell forward on his face-silent.

The entire square was silent.

At a roof a house with a good view a man had watched the entire drama even giving a small laugh sometimes. A woman and another man accompanied him. They shuddered with every single laugh.

"Hey….Can you not laugh? The man finally spoke up.

"No."

"You're scary when you do."

"..."

"Have mercy on our poor souls, Oh Great King of the Regiard Empire."

"Shut up!" He was hit by Lucia.

"Do you not want to live anymore?"

"Keep quiet you both."

"Yes Sir." Arnold and Lucia said.

"Arnold, go to the punishment chamber later."

"Yes sir" His tone was lacking the enthusiasm from before.

His eyes flashed a bloodthirsty glint , uncommon in a youth of just eighteen years.

He had taken over the throne when he was sixteen after soaking in the blood of his family.

Regiard was known for its ferocity and cruelty and the present king truly deserved to be called so because he was 'Living Hell'.

With blood on his hands at the tender age of six, he had not stopped killing since.

Multitudes would come to beg for his protection and were even ready to become slaves under him.

But what left his doors were piles of corpses.

His servants had become numb to such sights for the sake of their dear lives. The entire palace was shrouded with an aura of death and not a single soul could be seen within a radius of fifty miles except for the residents.

No visitors dared to come.

Even though the scenery was captivating, the castle at the center was a one way ticket to heaven.

This was the effect of Austin, the king of Regiard's notorious reputation.