Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 177: I Will Not Lose

Chapter 177: I Will Not Lose

’We...lost?’

The world felt like it had stopped. Everything was so cold—annoyingly cold—and he wished he knew where his axe was. He wanted to hold it. He wanted to hold anything. His fingers jerked and twitched. Hundreds of his allies were frozen and looked around, coming to the crushing realization that they were outnumbered. Their weapons refused to retaliate and they purposely brought them to their knees.

"Oi, Willy. You might be a big guy but you don’t think you can take us all on." Butcher’s finger went to the trigger.

"I-I...that’s not...I didn’t...we’re not done yet. We still have Emma and Samuel. Where are they?" William’s breathing started to accelerate and the corners of his vision went white. "Where are you?" Left, right, left right—he didn’t see them anywhere. He was growing irritated. "Where the fuck are you guys!?"

Butcher cocked his head. "You good, man?"

"Shut up! I’m not talking to you!" Emma and Samuel, they weren’t strong but they were at least useful. So where were they? Were they dead? No way. No. Way. What would Sun-young think? Kazi? If they died, then what? What would they think of him? "I said where are you guys!?"

There were piles of unconscious bodies and hundreds of surrendering players and soldiers, so where were they!? "If you’re asleep, then just wake up! I need your help!"

Nothing. Nobody responded to him.

Across from him, the Wild West were glancing between each other. William noticed and snarled. "What? What’s with that look?"

They were looking at him as if he was crazy. What a bunch of hypocrites! They were the ones holding a gun to an innocent man’s head! Max, who looked like he was halfway to death. Max, who just wanted to see his daughter.

’We can’t lose. No, we can’t. So many people are going to die if we let these guys join them in Dublin.’

"I don’t know what’s up with you, but an hour remains before the countdown ends," Butcher said. "Get your knees or I’m really going to blow your brains out, you son of a gun."

His head throbbed, his skull feeling mush. "Shut up..."

"Ha? Speak up, I can’t hear ya!"

A foreboding future of blood and darkness flashed. His eyes went black. "I said STOP TALKING!"

[ Error! Error! ]

[ Loading...loading...loading...]

[ Composition of the soul has changed! ]

All at once, everything was gone. The hunger that had taken root in the pit of his stomach disappeared. His worries and fears were replaced with a sense of invisibility. A euphoria unlike anything he had experienced before.

The corners of vision became a corrupted purple and a huge smile cracked open his face. A whiplash of black magic exploded from every limb of his body.

BANG!

A gun went off.

A silver bullet was lodged in his cheek, drawing blood before falling miserably. The gunslingers stepped back while Butcher hurriedly reloaded.

"You fucking piece of shit..." A hand was raised, a ball of darkness formulating. "Die."

Like razing weeds, Butcher and the gunslingers were wiped from the waist-up from the black muck of energy. Their feet stayed up for a second before falling. Max snapped up from the plop. The garden of blood that seeded itself upon the ground spread and touched his knees.

Everyone began to look. Close or far, having won or loss, they were looking at him.

Stop it.

"You and you and you and you..." William’s became darker as each of his fingers pulsed with magic. "Die."

His arms raised to the heavens, whips of black energy flew. There were screams followed by the ripping of flesh. Skulls were drilled open one-by-one. None could escape. William found himself smiling at the sight. Every time they looked back, they saw him and they saw death.

Just like they deserved.

"Hey, William." Max grabbed him by the shoulder. It was a miracle he was able to stand at all. "There’s no need to go so far—"

"Let go of me."

"Huh—" Max let out a hiss as his chainmail gloves burned. The shoulder he had been touching was brimming with dark energy. William momentarily stopped his onslaught to look at the Templar that had stopped him. That had dared to touch him.

"Silence. You have no role here."

Max held his hand, wincing. "I’m not stopping here, I told you—"

"You’re doing this for your daughter who you never actually listened to." William clicked his tongue. "Are you of all people telling me what to do? Seriously? After what you told me? After I saved your miserable fucking life?" Arrogance drowned his voice. "You’re pathetic."

Max didn’t back away. Instead, he stared him down. "You’re not being yourself. Look around you—"

"Only someone with the authority to fight me has the right to tell me what to do." William scowled. "I can’t believe a bunch of weaklings are talking back to me."

Max was too bloody-eyed to notice the plethora of players surrounding them. But William did. To the very end, these people were defying him. Until their skulls were crushed, they wouldn’t leave.

The agony of these ants...!

"You people won’t leave me alone, will you? Die..." he muttered. "Die, die, die..."

"William—"

Max reached for him but it was too late, his wrath exploded past the point of return. The heaven following war was no longer possible. The very ground beneath was shaking as more and more enemy players arrived, as they tried to defy him.

"JUST DIE!"

The shore beneath them fractured and shook violently as explosive dark energy coursed from William’s being to the earth beneath. He wanted it gone. He wanted it all to disappear. ’Stop looking at me, stop looking at me, stoplookingatme! STOP IT!’

Allies or enemies, it did not matter, any who came into contact with the demonic energy was incinerated. A shockwave emanated from the epicenter of the explosion. Players were sprawled away in all directions. A haunting wail accompanied the destructive force.

Hell had come to Earth.

The sand that flew up high fell back down. There was a stillness. A twitch of life. William hated it. Why wasn’t it quiet? Why was everything so damn irritated? Like insects, they wouldn’t die. He heard groans and pleas of healing. Over to his left, he saw someone crawling away. Half of his arm had been caught up in the explosion.

The crawling insect peered over his shoulder and screamed.

His personality was cooling down, but the irrational hate wouldn’t disappear. "Stop screaming..." William looked elsewhere. They were the same. "You people...quit looking me in the eye."

His thoughts and his swirling magic was interrupted by a loud army of footsteps. Screams and metal and fear was lingering. William walked over to the end of the shore, crushing any corpse in his way, and saw dozens of Irish soldiers running over.

The gates of Dublin City were half an hour away, so why were the soldiers of Connacht coming here? Why were all of them wearing that same expression? Why were all of them afraid?

He clenched his fists. "I shape destiny. I shape this battlefield. You soldiers...need to go away." The black energy in his muscles coiled together, accumulating in his heart, then his arms and legs, and finally...his eyes.

One step forward, magic blazing like a tornado, his vision went black.

"Oh god—"

"Help me!"

"There’s another one—!"

"P-please, I have a son I want to see!"

Like flies. Like flies.

They all fell like flies.

In thirty minutes, William Martin accumulated a kill count surpassed only by one other player.

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