Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 1010: Chaos Skates At The Rims Of Orders

Chaos ruled the streets of Kevlon an hour from the murder of their sacred law. Doubt sprung in the hearts of the faithful, and the low-lives stuck their heads out of the gutter, their lust for power stoked by chaos, inflamed by Hamleth’s death. Yet quiet sat the duke on his veranda, admiring hope burning with his city.

The city gates were closed; nobody was allowed to leave Kevlon, but not even the soldiers guarding the dragon-hide gates wished to live in a place with no god. Morale was crumbling amongst such guardians, and seeing it so, the criminals had set up shop. Smuggling people out of the city, but whether they ever truly made it out or ended up in some basement as future slaves, nobody could know for sure.

Amidst the noise of it all, there was worship–worship to a god that none of the worshipers knew they were praying to; they simply did. In times of desperation, the saving word was akin to a call by a person stranded deep at sea. To whomever it may concern, but Jestrus was prime in such dire times of need.

The horror, the fear, the quick ploys, and the survivalists finding new ways to save their skin–every speck of the city’s cinder was fuel to the god of chaos, but even as things would calm down, it would be his to claim the prayers of the blind followers. As the god of calm and chaos, after all, his followers lived in the heart of struggle, and through their suffering they persevered and rose above the others–the same means with which he’d picked Raslo, and the twin maids back at Charammer.

Many a new follower of chaos was about to be born in this furnace of hope, and to that the duke smiled and sipped on his ivory cup, watching his city burn. Alas, for how long?

"Ha?" The cup held in his hand suddenly froze over. Shattering as he tried to move his fingers to bring it closer, his fingers suffered alongside it, crumbling to tiny shards of ice falling on the floor right underneath him. A sharp blade had stabbed through his soul, but as he tried to reach for it with his other hand, the blade twisted within his chest and sliced him from navel to neck.

Being a spirit, he should’ve been immune to physical blows, but the magic held within the blade had made him corporeal as everyone else.

"W-who?" He muttered as his body slowly split in two, falling in opposing ends. Right before his mind slipped, however, a glimpse of the lovers he saw before his end.

"Sorry, but we’re not going to let you burn this place to ash." Putting away the elemental sword, Amedith stepped forward and looked on at the burning city. Hope burned like ash in the chaos, ushering in the worst of humanity. "Lily, we should get to work."

"Should we start by killing the criminals first? We’ve already killed the duke, but if the Aurum council will break our deal for these low lives, then maybe it’s best we just continue on our own."

"Yeah..." He replied, his eyes set on the sight before him, hoping that Joselia would understand why some of the people in Kevlon had to die.

Slaughter was the fate of not only the criminals of Kevlor, for Erika too had a hand to play within the golden city of Astorium. Faith was the lifeblood of the city, and only the most pious were allowed inside its walls. But the moment their connection with Hamleth was severed, their minds were unrestrained and sent into a frenzy from which there was no recovery.

Thus, with one hand to her heart and the other pointed to a seal written in blood–the death’s priestess invoked the powers of the she-devil within her. Drawing countless demonic hands from the ground to drag the insane to their destined place–the third layer of the hells. Bound by her magic, their struggles were abated, yet their screams echoed throughout the city of gold–the once hubris-ridden priests howling at the top of their lungs, and the priestesses begging for mercy for their sins.

Unaware of Erika’s involvement in the ’Dragging’, they prayed to Hamleth in spite of his death. A punishment from their most merciful lord, a test for they have failed him, they thought! Oh, how wrong they were; they just didn’t know it.

The people of Lutheria, on the other hand, were at a simple loss for words. Hamleth was dead; nobody had to tell them that he was; they simply knew through the clash of lights across the sky and their own human instincts. But instead of fighting that change, they merely sat on their posts quietly thinking about what would happen next to their dungeon city. The prisoners would have to be watched, and their families still lived in the clearer, much deeper inside the city. Moving anywhere else was obviously not an option, not when the other places were bound to be more chaotic than their own secluded city.

Home was all they wanted as lifelong soldiers, but Lutheria required good for their services of housing criminals in its dungeons. Seizing that opportunity, Mel and Aria both decided to bring Ophelia and Amelia to the place for further political contracting. Maria wished to be present as well; however, after suffering numerous attacks at the outskirts of Charammer, the army could not spare anyone with healing or, rather, caretaking abilities.

Aurum and Charammer were the only two cities in the kingdom of Hamleth that had gone unaffected by the monumental change. Mostly because the consulate had already renounced Hamleth, and Charlotte had also made efforts to drive out the church of law completely out of the city while the preparations for this battle were underway. Having Charammer all to herself, she remained wary of her twin maids, yet played the fool who knew more than others could expect of her.

All this time, Raven, back in the ruined capital, remained in recovery beside Helga, Mono, and the others–a taste of godhood lingering on his tongue as he stared at his new darkened hand with golden veins.