40: Bloodbath

As Lycius and Xylara hovered above the city, their wings effortlessly keeping them aloft, a flicker of excitement gleamed in Lycius's dark gold eyes.

The sight unsettled Xylara, who remained focused yet baffled. She couldn't comprehend what he found so pleasurable about the ruthless slaughter of living beings.

Lycius, however, knew that simply annihilating the city with his elemental mastery wouldn't satisfy his thirst. He craved the visceral sensation of cutting through flesh with his scythe, the intimate artistry of dismemberment.

He extended his hand, intending to summon his beloved weapon—only to be met with an empty grip. A frown formed as he recalled the cause.

Xylara had broken his scythe.

His gaze shifted away from the city, locking onto her instead. His expression, a mixture of disappointment and irritation, sent a shiver through her spine.

"You've caused me quite the inconvenience," he murmured, his voice deceptively calm. "Your punishment tonight has just increased a hundredfold… There won't be any sleeping for you."

Xylara's breath hitched. An unbidden image flooded her mind—her naked body— surrendered to Lycius, utterly exposed beneath him. Her succubus instincts betrayed her, the heat pooling between her legs undeniable.

A wicked smirk tugged at Lycius's lips. He had planted the thought himself, delighting in her flustered reaction.

Then, as if losing interest, his focus returned to the city.

Snap.

With a flick of his fingers, ice particles gathered in the air, coalescing into the shape of a wickedly curved scythe. Its crystalline blade shimmered with a deathly chill.

"This will do," he mused.

With those parting words, Lycius folded his wings and shot downward like a falling star. The impact of his landing sent tremors through the streets, cracking the stone beneath his feet.

Before the gathering citizens could even register the disturbance—

Fifty heads fell to the ground.

Their severed necks spurted crimson fountains, and before the first wave of screams could even begin, Lycius was already moving.

He danced through the crowd, an artist painting with blood. Every motion was precise, each strike a masterpiece of efficiency and brutality. His scythe sang through the air, cleaving flesh and bone with chilling ease. Headless bodies collapsed, only to be diced into unrecognizable hunks of meat.

The streets ran red. Not a single patch of stone remained unstained.

By the time he stopped, tens of thousands lay dead in pieces.

Xylara retched, unable to contain her horror. She had witnessed massacres before, but never one so… artistic. Her people were reduced to nothing more than butchered livestock.

Then, Lycius's movements halted.

His head tilted slightly, as though remembering something—no, sensing something. A smile stretched across his lips, wide and knowing.

A lone rat had been hiding.

His voice, laced with dark amusement, echoed through the silence.

"Here's some advice for you… Lurking in my shadow for too long won't end well. My scythe may be absent, but trust me—there are far worse ways to die."

His shadow twitched unnaturally, as if alive, as if aware.

Then he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

"Ah, ah, ah… You've wandered into her domain." His voice took on a mockingly sweet tone, yet it dripped with menace. "And my dear Kiara probably doesn't take kindly to uninvited guests."

The woman concealed within his shadow felt her soul constrict in sheer terror. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, her mind screaming in regret.

She had chosen the worst possible place to hide.

She had stepped into the abyss itself.

Lycius's smirk faded as a realization settled in—he had overlooked something. Something crucial.

The previous city's Lord was probably killed in the chaos.

(A/N: In this world, provinces are measured to be as big as cities—hence they'll be called cities.)

And now, in this city, he had beheaded nearly everyone—except for the trembling woman still trapped within his shadow.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in mild disappointment.

"Well, I suppose they'll have to make do with whatever Kiara manages to catch." He shrugged, unconcerned.

With a mere thought, the void responded to his will, bending reality itself to his command. In an instant, he vanished from his position, reappearing beside Xylara, who was still reeling from the sight of the carnage below.

His golden eyes swept over her pitiful state—pale, trembling, and nauseous.

A sigh of disappointment slipped past his lips.

"You're really boring, you know that?" His tone was flat, unimpressed. "How I wish Vynessa were here instead."

At the mention of her daughter's name, Xylara stiffened. Her ears twitched instinctively, eager—no, desperate—to hear more.

She hadn't spoken to Vynessa since the day she vanished at the age of four. She knew nothing of the daughter she had lost.

Lycius caught the subtle shift, and his smirk returned, full of mischief.

"Greedy, aren't you?" he mused inwardly.

"I suppose I could grant your wish…"

He took his time, deliberately drawing out his next words, relishing the way Xylara's violet eyes burned with an unfamiliar hunger—an aching desire for knowledge.

"Unlike you, her mother," he began, dragging the title out mockingly, "your daughter is quite fascinating."

Xylara's breath hitched.

"You know… this?" Lycius gestured toward the blood-drenched ruins below. "This is practically what we did in our free time. Of course, we only had monsters to play with, but we always wondered what it would be like to do this to creatures with… intelligence."

Xylara's face darkened, horror creeping into her features.

Lycius was far from finished.

"We used to wonder about the taste of blood," he continued, his voice adopting a thoughtful lilt. "Not monster blood—oh no, that's awful. Trust me. Though, your daughter didn't seem to mind it."

He chuckled at Xylara's widening eyes before continuing, deliberately feeding her mind with more disturbing truths.

"But human blood? Succubus blood? Pure succubus blood, not the diluted kind?" He let the words sink in. "Elven blood. Beastfolk blood. Angel blood. Oh, we especially wanted to try pure angel blood."

Xylara looked ready to retch all over again.

"Ah, but DragonBorn blood?" Lycius tapped a finger against his own chest. "We've already tasted that, so that one's off the list."

He flashed her a bright, boyish grin—one completely at odds with the madness lacing his words.

"Anyway! Enough distractions." His voice dropped, regaining its edge.

"It's time to resume the extermination of all sinners."

Xylara's face had contorted through every possible expression of revulsion by now—disgust, horror, denial.

And Lycius loved every second of it.

Lycius exhaled, his amusement fading into a more neutral expression. He had given Xylara exactly what she had unknowingly desired—a taste of the daughter she had longed. The horror in her eyes was enough of a reward.

But now, it was time to move on.

With a flick of his fingers, the void twisted around them, swallowing them whole before spitting them out into another city.

Xylara barely had time to regain her balance before Lycius resumed his massacre.

City after city fell before them.

Everywhere they went, it was the same.

The moment they arrived, Lycius would announce their presence—forcing Xylara to present herself before her so-called loyal subjects, making her condemn them for their faithfulness.

Then, the slaughter would begin.

He wielded his scythe with masterful ease, turning the once-thriving cities into nothing more than blood-soaked ruins. Tens of thousands fell beneath his blade in each city, their bodies reduced to nothing but mincemeat in his relentless pursuit of artistic perfection.

And Xylara?

She was forced to watch.

She was forced to stand amid the screams, the blood, the severed limbs, the pleas for mercy—all of it.

By the tenth city, she began begging Lycius to stop.

By the twelfth city, her knees had buckled more than once.

By the fifteenth, she no longer tried to beg him to stop.

By the twentieth, her expression had dulled into a blank stare, exhaustion and despair weighing down on her shoulders.

But Lycius?

Lycius was still enjoying himself.

However, by the time they reached the twenty-fourth city, he let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders.

"As much fun as this has been," he mused, glancing at his ice-scythe, "I'm starting to grow a little bored of using the same artistic techniques."

Xylara barely reacted, her body too weak from the constant teleportation and mental strain.

Luckily, as they arrived at their twenty-fifth city, fate provided him with a much-needed surprise.

Standing amidst the panicked crowds, her obsidian black eyes gleaming with unrestrained malice, was none other than Kiara.

A slow, wicked grin stretched across Lycius's lips.

"Perfect timing," he murmured.

Xylara barely had the strength to react as the two monsters exchanged a look—one filled with an unspoken understanding.

Then, without hesitation, the duo moved.

Kiara's shadow surged, swallowing the first wave of people in an instant, their bodies twisting and writhing as they were consumed by darkness itself.

Lycius laughed, exhilarated by the sight, as he joined in.

With scythe and shadow, the two of them danced through the city, their slaughter taking on an almost artistic rhythm.

This city would be their masterpiece.

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