The plaza of Oakhaven was no longer a place of celebration; it had become a slaughterhouse. Marcus lay on the stone ground, his body twitching as the last remnants of his soul were scraped away. The villagers backed away, their screams dying in their throats as the very air turned cold enough to freeze blood.
"Blasphemy! Pure, unholy blasphemy!" a thunderous voice roared from the entrance of the Great Hall.
Elder Garen stepped forward, his eyes wide with horror as he looked at the shattered remains of Marcus. "Ashura! You have used forbidden, demonic arts to assault your own kin! Guards! Seize this monster! Tear his limbs from his body if you must!"
Twelve village guards, seasoned warriors of Rank 3, charged forward. Their spears were leveled at Ashura's throat, their faces masked by a false sense of bravery.
Ashura didn't move. He let out a low, guttural chuckle that sounded like bones grinding together. "Kin?" He looked at Garen, his black eyes swirling with a hunger that wasn't human. "Where were your laws when they broke my ribs in the mud? You call this demonic? I'll show you what a real demon looks like."
[Ability Triggered: Abyssal Chains.]
Ashura slammed his obsidian-veined foot into the pavement. The stone didn't just crack—it exploded. From the dark craters, dozens of jagged chains made of pure, condensed void-energy shot out like famished vipers.
Squelch. CRACK. Tear.
The first guard didn't even have time to scream. A chain pierced through his chest, exiting his back in a spray of hot, crimson blood. Before his body could hit the ground, another chain wrapped around his head and ripped it clean off with a sickening pop.
The plaza was suddenly painted in red.
"Release them!" Garen screamed, waving his staff. A bolt of holy light shot toward Ashura, but Ashura simply caught it with his bare hand. The light hissed against his palm, turning into black smoke as he crushed it.
"Is this all your god offers?" Ashura whispered.
With a flick of his fingers, the Abyssal Chains went into a frenzy. One guard was literally torn in half, his upper body flung into the terrified crowd. Another had his limbs twisted in opposite directions by the shadows until his bones shattered into white splinters that pierced through his skin.
"Stop it! Please, Ashura!" Kael cried out from the back, vomiting at the sight of his friends' intestines decorating the plaza floor. "We grew up together! It was just a joke!"
"A joke?" Ashura walked through the rain of blood, his white hair now speckled with crimson drops. He looked at Kael with a smile that was more a jagged wound than an expression. "I'm a slow learner, Kael. I don't get the punchline yet. Maybe I'll understand it better when I hear your heart stop beating."
Ashura raised his hand, and the shadows around Kael's feet began to solidify into jagged blades. But before he could strike, Elder Garen pulled out a forbidden, blood-red talisman.
"If you want blood, monster... then feed on this!" Garen ripped the talisman and pressed it into his own chest. His skin began to peel back as his muscles expanded, turning him into a hulking, skinless beast of meat and bone—The Village Guardian.
The beast roared, spraying a mist of blood and bile over the plaza. Ashura's black eyes widened, not with fear, but with a terrifying, ecstatic joy.
"Finally," Ashura whispered, licking a drop of blood from his lip. "A body worth breaking."