Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 239: Creature of Night [3]

Alaric paused.

His blade hovered inches from Vivienne’s throat, flames casting dancing shadows across her terrified face.

For a long moment, nothing moved but the rain.

Then, slowly, he lowered his blade.

But he didn’t sheathe it.

Instead, he turned his head, looking past Vivienne to where Renard was struggling to stand.

The younger Valtair pushed himself up on shaking arms, his body still twitching from the residual lightning coursing through his nerves.

Alaric smiled behind his scarf.

"Run."

Renard’s eyes widened. He looked up at the hooded figure through the rain, breathing hard, not understanding.

"Run," Alaric repeated, his voice cold and almost... playful. "Run if you want to live."

For a heartbeat, Renard just stared.

Then survival instinct kicked in.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the screaming pain in his ribs, and ran.

His boots slapped against wet cobblestones as he sprinted away from the burnt carriage, away from his fallen brother, away from that monster in black.

He made it just five steps.

Alaric raised his hand lazily.

Vivienne’s blood ran cold. "No, wait—"

[Wind Blade!]

The air sharpened. Invisible crescents of compressed wind launched forward, spinning like saw blades.

They caught Renard mid-stride.

"AAAAAHHH!"

His scream tore through the storm as his left leg separated at the knee. Blood sprayed in an arc. The severed limb tumbled across the stones.

Renard crashed face-first onto the cobblestones, momentum carrying him forward in a skid that left a crimson trail.

"NOOO!" Vivienne shrieked.

She tried to lunge forward, tried to reach her son, but—

Alaric’s hand shot out, shoving her hard.

She stumbled backward, her head striking the corner of an overturned cart with a sickening crack. Her eyes rolled back. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Alaric ignored her.

Tap!

He walked forward, slow and deliberate. His boots splashed through puddles mixed with rainwater and blood.

Tap! Tap!

Ahead, Renard was crawling. His hands clawed at the stones. Incoherent sounds bubbled from his throat, half-screams, half-sobs. His remaining leg kicked uselessly, trying to push himself forward.

Trying to escape.

He managed to prop himself up on his good leg.

Then suddenly—

Alaric materialized in front of him.

Renard’s eyes went wide with terror.

Alaric’s boot came down on Renard’s outstretched hand.

Then he stomped.

CRUNCH!

Bone shattered. Fingers broke.

"AAAAHHH!"

Renard’s hand flattened against the cobblestones.

Then his foot raised again and drove Renard’s face straight into the ground.

SLAM!

His nose exploded on impact, blood gushing.

SLAM!

His teeth cracked.

SLAM!

He tried to scream, but his mouth was full of blood and shattered teeth. The sound came out garbled, wet, pathetic.

"Mmmph—ghhh—plmmm—"

Alaric crouched down slowly, bringing himself to Renard’s level. Rain poured off his hood.

"How does it feel?" His voice was soft, almost conversational. "Being on the receiving end?"

Renard’s one visible eye rolled toward him. Blood bubbled from his ruined nose with each panicked breath.

Alaric reached out and grabbed a fistful of Renard’s dark hair. He jerked the young man’s head up, forcing him to look.

With his other hand, Alaric pulled down his scarf.

Renard’s eye twitched slightly. Recognition hit him.

"...Lo...rd... A-Ala...ric?"

"Yeah. But you had seen me before that too..."

Renard’s mind processed, but he didn’t seem to understand what Alaric was saying.

Alaric saw it. And he laughed.

The sound was low, bitter, edged with something dark.

"You don’t remember, do you?" He tilted his head. "Not fully. But something’s there, isn’t it? Something familiar?"

He leaned closer, his face inches from Renard’s.

"Let me help you remember."

His grip tightened in Renard’s hair, pulling harder, forcing the young lord to meet his eyes.

"That cave," Alaric whispered. "The Dreadmaw Direfang. The girl you were going to violate on cold stone while your guards held me down."

Renard’s functioning eye widened. Recognition dawned—incomplete, fragmented, but there.

"You were so confident then," Alaric continued, his voice dropping to a hiss. "So certain of your power. Your right to take whatever you wanted. Whoever you wanted."

He smiled.

Rain poured down between them.

Renard tried to speak. Blood and broken teeth made the words unintelligible. "Pmmm—ghhmmm—"

"Begging?" Alaric’s laugh was sharp. "Now you beg? Now you want mercy?"

"Tell me," he said softly, his eyes boring into Renard’s. "How does this feel? Being helpless. Being prey. Knowing no one’s coming to save you."

He paused, savoring the moment.

"Knowing that everything you thought made you powerful, your name, your title, means nothing when someone stronger decides you’re not worth the air you breathe."

Renard’s eye filled with tears. They mixed with rain and blood, streaming down his ruined face.

"That’s right," Alaric whispered. "Finally, you understand."

Then he twisted Renard’s head to the side, forcing him to look across the rain-soaked street. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"See?"

He pointed with his other hand toward Vivienne’s unconscious form, sprawled near the overturned cart. Her dress was torn, soaked through, clinging to her body. Rain pooled around her.

She was vulnerable. Defenseless.

"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?" Alaric whispered directly into Renard’s ear.

"Now just imagine," he continued, his voice dropping to something darker. "If I go over there... in this pouring rain... this brewing storm... no witnesses... no one to stop me..."

"NMMM!" Renard began thrashing violently, trying to jerk away. "GMMFF! BSSSHHD!" The words were mangled by blood and broken teeth, but the intent was clear: curses, threats, desperate denials.

Alaric just laughed.

"Oh?" He stood, hauling Renard up with him. His grip on the young man’s arm was iron as he forced him to stand on his remaining leg. "You want to see her that badly? Want to watch how badly I’ll ravage your mother in front of you? What a strange kid you—"

Renard dove his fist forward in a wild, desperate haymaker.

Alaric caught it effortlessly.

His grin widened.

"On second thought," he said slowly, "I think I don’t want any audience."

He twisted.

Renard’s wrist bent at an unnatural angle.

Then Alaric’s body ignited.

[Immolation Aura!]

Searing heat exploded outward. The rain that touched it turned instantly to steam.

Renard’s scream came strangled, wet. His captured wrist began to cook where Alaric gripped it. Skin blistered, blackened, the smell of burning flesh mixing with rain and smoke.

Alaric pulled him closer, until their faces were inches apart.

"Don’t worry about her," he whispered, his voice almost gentle. "I’ll take proper care of your mother. Very thorough. Very... attentive."

Renard’s functioning eye went wide with horror and rage.

"And once I get bored?" Alaric tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, maybe I’ll let some of my trusted men have a taste too. Share the wealth, you know? I’m generous like that."

"NMMMM!" Renard thrashed harder, his remaining strength surging in pure, animal desperation.

Alaric’s smile vanished.

The Immolation Aura cut off abruptly.

His hand drove forward like a spear.

THUD!

His fist buried itself in Renard’s stomach.

More blood poured from Renard’s mouth.

But Alaric wasn’t done.

His fist turned into claw and punctured through his skin.

[Static Shock!]

Lightning erupted inside Renard’s body.

His muscles seized, back arched. His eye rolled back, showing only white. Smoke rose from his mouth, his nose, his ears as the electricity cooked him from within. His hair stood on end, skin blistered.

Alaric held him there.

Watching. Waiting.

Until Renard’s body went completely limp. Until the light faded from his eye. Until the last stuttering breath rattled and stopped.

Until he was dead.

Then, Alaric released him.

[Ding!]

Notification appeared but didn’t look at them.

Renard’s corpse hit the cobblestones with a wet thud, folding unnaturally. Steam rose from the burned flesh. One leg severed, one hand crushed, face ruined, body cooked from the inside out.

Unrecognizable.

Alaric clicked his tongue in distaste. He flicked his hand sharply, blood spattering off his fingers onto the rain-soaked stones.

"Messy," he muttered.

He stood there for a moment, then turned away. His eyes moved to Vivienne, still unconscious by the cart.

Then to Kelard.

Who roared and lunged forward.

"YOU BASTARD!"