SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 644: The Massacre Begins

Chaos reigned in every corner of the square.

The protesters who had gathered hours earlier now found themselves trapped in a nightmare from which there was no waking.

Some wanted to flee, to run as far and as fast as their legs could carry them.

Others on the other hand couldn’t tear their eyes away.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon after all, the kind of historical moment that would be spoken of for generations.

But there was one group who wanted nothing more than to escape, and they wanted it with every fiber of their being.

The prisoners.

“Please!”

One man screamed, his voice cracking with desperation as he thrashed against his restraints.

“Let us go! Take us away from here! She killed her—she killed her in cold blood! You can’t let her take us! She’ll kill us all!”

Another prisoner, a woman who had been arrested alongside her husband, grabbed desperately at a guard’s uniform.

“You saw what she did! You saw it! She cut that woman into pieces like she was nothing! Please, I’m begging you—we don’t deserve this! Just let us run!”

The guards themselves were paralyzed, their training useless against the horror unfolding above them.

They had not been prepared to see one of the most powerful Blessed in the world reduced to a pile of cubed meat in the span of a heartbeat.

And they certainly had not been prepared for what came next.

—

More figures began to rise into the air.

They floated upward slowly, their bodies stiff with terror, their limbs flailing uselessly against invisible bonds.

Middle-aged men and women. Elderly individuals with gray hair and weathered faces. Young people who looked like they should have been in college, enjoying their New Year’s celebrations with friends.

They all shared similar features—blonde hair, green eyes, the same characteristics that Amanda herself had.

“Who are they?” Someone shouted. “Why are they being pulled up?”

“I know them!” Another voice responded. “It’s Amanda’s family! That’s her mother—I saw her on the news before! And her father! And her brothers!”

A terrible silence fell over the square as the realization spread.

“Her family?” Someone finally whispered. “But…why are they being pulled up?”

“Wait…don’t tell me…”

The family rose higher and higher, their screams growing more desperate with each passing second. They clawed at the air, their legs kicking uselessly, their faces contorted with terror.

“Please!” Amanda’s father shouted, his voice cracking. “Lady Yelena, please! Let us go! I beg of you!”

“We had nothing to do with whatever happened!” Another family member cried. “We had no clue at all! It has nothing to do with us! We haven’t even met Marcus before!”

The college-aged one fixed Yelena with a desperate, pleading look.

“You’re my Hero, Lady Yelena!” He choked out. “I grew up watching your broadcasts. I wanted to join the army because of you. Please—please—you can’t do this to us! You’re not a monster! You’re Lady Yelena!”

Yelena did not move her hand.

But the sword moved anyway.

Shing! Shing! Shing! Shing!

It was a whisper of sound, so fast it registered after the fact, like thunder trailing a lightning bolt.

And when it returned to hover beside her, the family was still floating there.

Then the lines began to appear.

The young man opened his mouth to speak again—and the top of his head slid sideways. He didn’t even have time to scream.

Pachuk!

He simply came apart, cleanly and quietly, into a hundred neat cubes that tumbled toward the earth in a grotesque cascade.

The mother followed.

Squelch!

Then the father.

Pachuk!

The old ones.

Splat!

All of them, disassembled mid-beg, their final words lost forever.

And below, a second mound of meat joined the first.

“OH MY GOD! SHE…SHE’S KILLING FAMILIES NOW! SHE KILLED THE WHOLE FAMILY!”

“SHE’S MURDERING EVERYONE! SHE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL!”

“T-THIS ISN’T THE SWORD MAIDEN WE KNOW! WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO HER?!”

The prisoners below thrashed in pure madness, slamming their heads against the ground as they begged the guards.

But the guards themselves stood paralyzed, a freezing, arctic chill running down their spines.

Looking at the mountain of meat rising before them, every single guard wished with every fiber of their being that they had called in sick and stayed safely at home rather than witnessing this unimaginable apocalypse.

Across the continent, millions watching the broadcast were utterly dazed, gripped by a primal, suffocating terror.

And yet, the nightmare did not stop. It only accelerated.

—

More and more people were summoned into the air, their bodies rising like fish being pulled from the water.

“NOOOO! PLEASE!”

“I-I WANT TO LIVE! I WANT TO LIVE!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!”

But the sword mjust grew busier, slicing and dicing like a machine, reducing human beings to piles of meat with terrifying efficiency.

It was as if Yelena had become a meat grinder, processing person after person with the same detached regularity as a butcher processing cattle.

The other four Battle Angels watched from above, their faces pale, their eyes filled with horror.

Then Mika’s voice came from behind them.

“Yelena’s doing wonderfully, isn’t she?” He said, his tone light and conversational. “But with so many people gathered here, all five of you are going to have to work together. Otherwise, it’s going to take far too long to slaughter everyone.”

He chuckled, a sound that made their blood run cold.

“Go on now. Show the world what the Battle Angels can really do.”

Against their wills, they began to descend.

—

The crowd noticed immediately.

“The rest of the Battle Angels are moving!” Someone shouted.

“Look! They’re coming down!”

“What are they doing? Are they going to stop Lady Yelena?”

“Maybe they’re going to end this madness!”

But the hope died as quickly as it was born.

More figures began to rise from the prisoner ranks—corrupt officials, nobles, criminals of every description.

But they weren’t being pulled toward Yelena anymore.

They were being directed toward the other Battle Angels, toward Nadia and Fauna and the Maiden of War and the Maiden of Fate.

The prisoners begged and pleaded as they rose.

“Please, Lady Fauna! You’re a healer! You save lives! You wouldn’t kill us!”

“Lady Nadia, I’m innocent! These are all false accusations!”

“Please, show mercy! We don’t deserve this!”

One man, a trafficker who had been responsible for the disappearances of countless children looked at Fauna with pleading eyes, his family clustered around him.

“Please, Lady Fauna!” He said. “You’re known as the Grand Healer! You’ve saved so many lives! You would never hurt anyone! I-I know you wouldn’t!”

His wife nodded frantically. “She’s right! You’re a good person! You heal people! You don’t kill!”

Fauna’s face was a mask of anguish. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her body moved against her will, her hands rising toward the family.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

The man frowned in confusion.

“What do you mean? What are you—”

He felt a burning sensation in his hands.

He looked down.

And screamed.

“NO! NO, NO, NO, NO!”

His hands were bubbling, as if acid had been poured directly onto his skin!

The flesh turned black, rotting away before his eyes, sloughing off the bone in wet, putrid chunks.

“IT HURTS!” He shrieked. “IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!”

But it didn’t stop. It spread.

His wife began to scream as the same affliction took hold of her.

His brothers. His father. His mother. Every adult in his family was struck down as if by a plague, their skin molting, pus seeping from open sores, a white cream-like substance oozing from every pore.

They looked like they were suffering from the most horrific disease imaginable!

This was Fauna’s blessing’s second aspect—the Plague. She power could restore life and health, but it could also bring the most virulent infections ever conceived.

And right now, she was unleashing every single one of them.

The family’s flesh rotted away in real time, their screams fading into wet gurgles as their vocal cords dissolved.

Within moments, nothing remained but skeletons—bleached white bones floating in the air where living, breathing human beings had just been.

The remains fell, adding to the growing mountain of death below.

The crowd nearby, overwhelmed by the stench of decay that was far worse than normal flesh began vomiting and collapsing.

“OH GOD, THE SMELL!” Someone gagged. “IT’S DISGUSTING! IT’S ABSOLUTELY REVOLTING!”

“I GOT SOME OF THE ROTTEN JUICE ON MY FACE!”

“It can’t be. It’s impossible.” One of the reporters muttered in a dazed voice. “Even Fauna, the healer of the world iis indulging in this violence. The kindest of them all…”

But it was true.

And the others had begun their own rampages.

—

Nadia’s blessing flared to full power as she turned her attention to the prisoners before her.

Gravity itself bent to her will, becoming a weapon of unimaginable cruelty.

“No wait! What happening?!”

“Why are my hands moving like that?!”

The families, corrupt officials, and rapists in her section were manipulated by the invisible force.

The bottom halves of their bodies were pushed upward while the top halves were crushed downward, compressing them from both directions simultaneously.

Crack! Break! Tear!

Their bodies bent at grotesque angles. Blood poured from their mouths and noses. Bones snapped and protruded through tearing skin.

“NO, PLEASE!” They screamed. “IT HURTS! IT HURTS SO MUCH! PLEASE LET US GO!”

But the pressure only increased.

They were crushed, slowly, mercilessly until they were nothing more than minced meat, fragments of bone and organs suspended in a red mist.

Then Nadia released them, and the remains splattered onto the ground below.

—

The Maiden of War took an entirely different approach.

Her hands moved, reaching out to grab the people before her.

One woman, a sexual predator who had raped and killed countless boys over the years begged for her life.

“PLEASE! I HAVE CHILDREN! THEY NEED THEIR MOTHER! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

The Maiden of War didn’t seem to care.

She grabbed both of the woman’s hands.

And pulled.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The woman screamed as her arms were torn from their sockets, blood spraying in crimson arcs across the night sky.

“AHHHH! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!”

But it didn’t stop there.

The Maiden of War grabbed the woman’s legs and pulled those off too, ripping them away with casual brutality.

Finally, she grabbed the woman’s torso with both hands and tore her apart at the waist, bisecting her in a shower of gore.

The woman’s husband was next, his body dismantled piece by piece.

Arms. Legs. Head.

The Maiden of War threw the body parts in all directions, creating a grisly rain of hands and feet and organs that fell upon the crowd below.

“Run away! Run away!” People screamed and recoiled, vomiting as severed limbs struck them.

“The Battle Angels have gone crazy!”

“Get me out of this nightmare!”

One of the heads landed directly in the crowd.

“Oh god! Oh god, it’s a head! THERE’S A HEAD!”

“I’m going to be sick!”

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

People scrambled backward, trampling each other in their desperate attempts to escape the falling body parts.

But the most interesting killer of them all was the Maiden of Fate.

Her Blessing wasn’t offensive in nature—not really.

She was a seer and strategist. Her power lay in seeing what others could not, in understanding the threads of destiny that bound all living things together.

She wasn’t built for brute warfare like the others.

But that didn’t mean she was helpless.

She raised her hand, and a soft glow enveloped the prisoners before her.

Their eyes went white, their mouths dropping open as if they were witnessing something incredible—something beautiful and terrible all at once.

“No…” One woman whispered. “No, please don’t show me. I don’t want to see! I don’t want to see this! Please! NO!”

BOOM!

The woman exploded.

Her sister followed moments later, then another prisoner, then another.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

It was like fireworks going off, each explosion sending chunks of flesh and showers of blood raining down on the crowd below.

This wasn’t the Maiden of Fate actively killing them—not exactly.

What she had done was show them things they were never meant to see. She had opened their minds to truths that human consciousness simply couldn’t contain, had forced them to glimpse the fundamental nature of reality in all its terrible glory.

The backlash had destroyed them.

She was giving them the same punishment she suffered whenever she pushed her own powers too far.

But because they were so much weaker than her, the consequences were far more severe. Their bodies couldn’t handle the strain. Their minds couldn’t process the information.

So they simply…burst.

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