There was a small village situated 50 miles south of the border that separated Elysium from the mountainous region of northern Imperium. The population consisted of little over a 100. The inhabitants lived a quiet and relatively nomadic lifestyle surviving on seafood and hares. They may be residing within the territory of Elysium but they were very much isolated and cut off from the rest of the empire.
The loudest of sounds in the village were only ever caused by the elements. The settlers hated to draw any kind of attention to themselves.
However.....today was different.
Devastatingly different.
Screams filled the air; men, women and children combined.
Dogs barked consistently.
Birds cawed.
And the ground shook.
The tragedy unfolding was one of unimaginable horror. The kind of event that was only ever described in scripture.
They had been attacked.
Or rather, massacred.
There had been no warning. No reason stated. Only a brutal and savage killing which had unfolded so fast, none of the men had time to even raise their weapons.
Women had not be able to run and hide. Even the children had not been spared. Mere babies had been cut open inside their cots.
But the most horrifying part about it all was that there had been no attackers. No faces, no bodies, no footsteps, no weapon, no voices. Just a sickening odor in the air and a green mist which had flooded forward like water, strangling and butchering every person it touched.
Magic! Black magic! How? Where did it come from? Who sent it to them? Had a demonic entity risen from hell? A coven of witches? What had triggered such monstrosity?!
There had been a single aged Auror living in the village, but he had been no match against the powerful influx of black magic. He had only managed to shout out what the mist was before dying as well.
Eventually, the pandemonium died down.
A haunting silence ensued.
The Pope stood at the center of the village smiling and licking his lips as he sucked up the last of the power from the sacrificed souls. Over a hundred corpses littered around him. His naked body was covered head to toe in demonic runes and he appeared more monster than man at the moment.
The immense power that came from the sacrifice of so many souls had healed his body fully from the attack he'd faced at Lake Joan. His arm had regrown and his organs and skin had healed from the frying Felicia's lightning had caused.
He cracked his head from side to side and stretched out his limbs. Marvelous. He was whole once more. And he had never felt stronger.
This was the effect of his failsafe.
One which he knew would work.
Not a gamble, but strategy.
All because of the actions of that foolish Guardian.
Who had done exactly what he had anticipated.
Matthew had simply waited, using all of his depleted magic to keep his heart beating. He had crawled, utterly humiliated, one handed to the edge of Lake Joan and tossed himself in. Since the lake was a hotbed of both holy power and demonic power, he had merged with the dark properties in the water to place his body into a form of stasis.
Until he sensed Alexander trigger his trap. The boy had tried to destroy the dark mark he'd seared into Felicia with the Holy Sword.
Those idiots. Did they really think it would be so simple? Magic is complex. Did they believe the mark was only skin deep?
The moment the Holy Sword had cut into the second layer of the dark mark, it had allowed Matthew to tap into Felicia's magic and create a funnel through which he could drain her prowess and take it within himself.
He had then utilized the stolen power to perform the ritual for a mass killing spell and released it in the form of a green mist upon the nearest village.
Subsequently, he'd claimed a bounty of fresh souls to harvest and offer up to the Demon Lord in exchange for more demonic power than he had ever possessed.
And he had Felicia in a stranglehold. He had locked her inside of her own mind. He'd created a prison, using her own power against her.
Without her aid, Alexander wouldn't last long. Even with the Holy Sword.
This time, there would be no mistakes. He did not care about conquest anymore. He had been attacked and mutilated. Humiliated in the worst way. Vengeance alone, ruled his mind.
Closing his eyes, Matthew easily traced Felicia's location and shot up into the sky.
He would kill the brother first and then he would rape Felicia while she was unable to defend herself, before killing her as well.
He would have his revenge and he would finally get a taste of the only bit of Moniqua that was left in this world. Years ago, he had tried to seek pleasure with her corpse, but it hadn't been enjoyable. He had gotten to her casket too late and she was nothing but rotten, cold meat.
But Felicia, even unconscious, was hot blooded and very much alive. He could ignore the red hair, which was the only feature that made her appearance different from Moniqua's.
Matthew flew faster, his cock hardening painfully at the thought of finally sinking deep into Felicia's flesh. The fact that she was also a Saintess made it even sweeter.
Punishing both the Goddess and Moniqua for rejecting him.