The Villain's Story

Chapter 994: An Angel in Plain Sight(2).

Alan blocked the barrage of spells aimed at the carrier with a simple mana barrier. The ones aimed at him were swatted away. He looked down at the demonic humans that gained the courage to step outside their holes and activated [Dragon Eyes].

Fear, Caution, Desire, and surprisingly, Envy.

A plethora of emotions became visible to him with the use of [Dragon Eyes]. The angel on his shoulder quietened down as she stared at the demonic humans below with… an empty form of malice.

There was hatred in her eyes, but at the same time, Alan could feel nothing from that hatred. Curious, he turned to look at the angel once more, but she was adamant on staring at the ground.

Alan partially activated his Draconian Transformation, and swatted a boulder away with his tail. He focused on the angel on his shoulder, trying to understand her motives. Unfortunately for him, she was an unreadable existence.

She wants you to do good.

Finally, Valus responded, offering a bit of advice.

‘What does that mean?’

Alan asked for further clarification, shifting his gaze to the city below. The spells had stopped, the casters decided to save their mana and energy after they say they had absolutely no effect. He spots a few more men climbing the buildings, obviously physical type awakened beings.

His brow creases, and Alan Peccator uses his Dragon Eyes once more, to get a better look. He looks not for emotion, not for intent, but rather history. The history of the Demonic Humans below, of the Slaves, and even the monsters. He grimaces as he realized.

‘Ryan was right.’

Everyone here was a criminal, save for some of the slaves. Each and every single Demonic Human had taken the life of another, and not for survival, not for food, not even for honor or glory, but for pleasure, for satisfaction, in acts of cruelty to see if they would squirm just like insects.

Each one was a criminal, one that had inflicted incredible amounts of pain to others, to those weaker just trying to live their lives. They had ignored the law, they had killed far too many that did not mean them harm. They were restrained here, only because others like them existed. But were they wrong? The Demonic does not care for the opinions of others, he does as he pleases, and if something is done to him… He was merely not powerful enough. That is the golden law of the Abyss. Might Makes Right.

As the realization dawns upon him, he turns his head to look at the angel on his shoulder. This time, she looks straight at him, into his very soul. Her eyes seem hollow, but Alan knows the truth. She wants to enact judgement. She wants to enact judgement on those below for their sins, and save those who suffer.

It was merely the creed of the celestials, The Angels equal to the Demons, above the elves and the other races, but below the Dragons and the God Beasts. It was their creed that demanded that any evil they see must not go unpunished. That good must be done no matter the situation.

Alan is conflicted. He does not want to cause a slaughter, but at the same time, he doesn’t care for it. He doesn’t give a single damn about those below, slaves or demonic humans, monsters or cattle, he truly doesn’t care. All he cares about is the beach, he doesn’t want to deal with the… ‘annoyances’ below.

And then, it strikes him. Perhaps his demonic blood had awakened far earlier than he expected. It… gave a boost to his innate pride, to his arrogance. The Demonic Blood wished for superiority, for the golden rule that Might Makes Right, it supported the pride of the Three Prime Species within him, it had been awake for far longer, but had not decided to present itself in any way.

Because Alan was already following the path of a Demon, One who is strong and cares not for the lot below him, only moving forward and climbing, climbing, and climbing until there is no mountain left.

Alan stares hard at the angel, who does the same to him. He could tell Valus, Kulak, Lanesha and even Ariel are waiting for his response, to see what he will say in response. To see whether he would follow the wish of his true ‘mother’.

The angel sits back down on his shoulder, yet there is an emptiness in her eyes. There is an emptiness everywhere, in the pride of the Dragon, God Beast, and Void Spawn, and the might of the demon.

There is something wrong. Alan watches the city, or whatever remains of it scatter below. Most choose to fight, some choose to run, some, ironically, even choose to kill themselves before the eventual onslaught. That is what they believe.

Voices appear in his head, urges follow them. Urges to act, to do anything. The Pride of the Primes swells forth, the Cruelty and Indifference of a Demon acts, and the Judgement and Naivety of a Celestial beckons.

But then, something snaps. Alan regains his control, the urges go away, chased by something even stronger.

The Dragon flies away.

The God Beast whimpers.

The Void Spawn retreats.

The Demon backs down.

The Celestial shies away.

As [Dominatus] awakens, threatened, or rather, annoyed by the urges of those it has already subjugated. Alan Peccator, as well as [Dominatus] awakes, and sends them all away. For the first time, Alan awakened his [Unique Skill], and used it to drive the forces that made up his existence back… No.

That statement was wrong. They did not make up his existence. They merely were a part of it. They were subjugated forces, they were merely a few pillars that supported him. They were a part of him…

But they were not him. Not in it’s entirety.

Alan lands on the ground, crushing the growth beneath him with his weight. The weeds that struggled to climb out of the concrete die as their bodies freeze. Alan becomes the center of attention, as the eyes of everyone in the convoy, everyone in the city… focuses all on him.

He revels in it.