Free Web NovelChapter 5: To Carrion Front [I]
’Tell me about it.’
Caius slowly pushed himself off the floor with his muscles aching from the phantom trauma of his severed contract.
He brushed the thick layer of splintered oak and stone dust off his expensive silk clothes.
He didn’t say another word to the terrifying butler standing in the doorway and he didn’t need to.
In House Draxos, when a servant with glowing lethal mana came to fetch you, you didn’t ask questions... You simply marched to the slaughter.
Caius stepped over the shattered violently obliterated remains of his heavy bedroom door stepping out into the cold drafty stone corridors of the estate.
The butler turned on his heel in perfect silent synchronicity, leading the way.
The walk down through the Draxos estate was always a suffocating experience, but tonight, the oppressive atmosphere felt entirely amplified.
The walls were made of dark hardened volcanic rock, specifically designed to withstand artillery fire and rogue magical blasts.
Massive, iron-wrought chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting long flickering shadows across the crimson banners of Valerion, the God of War.
Everywhere Caius looked, there were reminders of his absolute inadequacy.
There were no paintings of beautiful landscapes or serene oceans... The art on the walls consisted entirely of massive, mounted weapons—shattered broadswords, dented warhammers, and the massive bleached skulls of legendary beasts slaughtered by his ancestors.
It was a literal meat grinder forged into a mansion.
And as he walked through the grim halls... a smooth calm voice echoed directly inside his skull.
’Fascinating architecture.’ Ereba mused.
Caius could feel her looking through his eyes, taking in the violent aesthetic of his family’s home.
’It is entirely devoid of warmth... It reminds me of the ancient execution chambers of the First Era... Is your entire bloodline this thoroughly obsessed with death, Champion?’
’You have no idea,’ Caius replied mentally, keeping his physical expression perfectly blank as he followed the butler down a spiraling stone staircase. ’They don’t just worship war; they literally breathe it. If you aren’t bleeding or making someone else bleed, you are a waste of rations.’
’How terribly primal,’ the Goddess hummed. ’And terribly boring.’
As they descended deeper into the estate, the heavy scent of roasted meat and blood began to waft through the corridors, mingling with the tang of martial mana in the air.
The butler stopped in front of a pair of towering, iron-banded doors.
He didn’t knock as he simply pressed his pale hands against the wood and a pulse of martial force blew the heavy doors completely open, announcing Caius’s arrival.
Caius stepped into the grand dining hall.
The room was massive, capable of seating a small army but tonight, the long polished obsidian table was occupied by only three figures.
The suffocating aura in the room hit Caius like a physical wall as it felt like stepping into a den of starving, rabid wolves.
Seated to the right was Kane Draxos, the oldest brother.
Kane was a literal monster of a man, standing well over six and a half feet tall even while seated.
His chest was as wide as a barrel and his arms were thick with terrifying corded muscle wrapped in jagged pale scars.
A deep raging crimson aura which was the signature blessing of the God of War subtly leaked from his pores, distorting the air around him like heat rising off asphalt.
Seated opposite to him was Torin Draxos, the second brother.
Torin was leaner but his aura was arguably worse.
He had sharp, viper-like features and a cruel, mocking smile permanently etched onto his face.
While Kane was a blunt instrument of destruction, Torin was a sadistic duelist who reveled in humiliating his opponents before gutting them.
’Oh my...’ Ereba mused in Caius’s head with genuine surprise in her voice.
Caius carefully walked toward the far end of the table, pulling out a heavy iron chair.
’Those two possess exceptionally dense musculature,’ the Goddess commented, observing his brothers intently. ’Their physical vessels are incredibly robust... Quite the physical specimens.’
Caius’s jaw tightened slightly.
’Sure...’ Caius complained bitterly in his mind as he sat down. ’Just rub it in, why don’t you? Let the thin one know exactly how massive his brothers are.’
A soft melodic chuckle vibrated through his soul.
’Do not pout, Champion.’ Ereba reassured him smoothly. ’I find your scrawny fragile frame far more endearing. Besides...’
The temperature in Caius’s mind dropped slightly.
’Muscles cannot punch Nothingness.’ frёewebnoѵēl.com
Caius almost smiled, but he forcefully maintained his deadpan expression as a terrified-looking servant scurried over and placed a massive silver plate of rare bloody steak in front of him.
The silence at the table was completely deafening.
The only sound was the scraping of iron knives against obsidian plates and Torin paused with his fork hovering halfway to his mouth.
He turned his sharp, viper-like eyes toward Caius with a vicious smirk pulling at his lips.
"Well, well, well," Torin purred. "Look who finally decided to crawl out of his little hole... I was beginning to think you had suffocated on your own soot, little brother."
Caius kept his eyes completely glued to his plate. He picked up his knife and began to slowly cut into his steak, entirely ignoring the barb.
"Seven whole days," Torin continued, leaning forward on his elbows. "Locked in your bedroom while the rest of us were out in the training yards, actually bleeding for the family name... Has the little chimney sweep finally given up on the Divine Academy? Or are you just trying to delay the inevitable?"
Kane didn’t say a word.
The massive older brother simply looked up from his meal with his glowing crimson eyes locking onto Caius with a look of silent disgust.
It was a gaze reserved for stepping in something foul on the bottom of a boot.
Caius chewed a piece of steak and it tasted like ash in his mouth.
He didn’t rise to the bait... Engaging with Torin was exactly what the sadist wanted...
Suddenly, the heavy iron doors at the front of the hall violently slammed shut.
The entire room shook as a monstrous mountainous presence entered the dining hall from the head of the table.
Lord Voran Draxos, the Patriarch.
He stood exactly seven feet tall, clad in heavy dark iron armor that looked like it hadn’t been unequipped in a decade.
He reeked perpetually of blood and his mere presence was a natural disaster.
The martial aura radiating off him was so thick and heavy that the flames on the iron chandeliers physically bent away from him in pure terror.
"Enough..." Voran commanded.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that slammed into everyone’s eardrums.
Torin instantly snapped his mouth shut with the sadistic smirk vanishing from his face as he sat perfectly upright.
Even the massive Kane lowered his head in unquestioning deference.
Voran slowly marched to the head of the obsidian table.
He didn’t sit down... Instead he placed his massive, gauntleted hands onto the table, his piercing cold eyes locking entirely onto Caius.
Caius stopped chewing as the blood violently drained from his face. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
"Seven days of cowardice," Voran rumbled with his voice echoing in the dead silence of the hall. "Seven days of hiding like a wounded rat in the walls of my estate."
Caius slowly placed his knife down, his heart beginning to hammer violently against his ribs.
"I have tolerated your existence because you carry my blood," the Patriarch stated coldly as his eyes narrowed. "I allowed you to disgrace this family by bypassing the God of War and binding yourself to a pathetic dying ember of Ash, simply so you could claim a legal contract and enter the Divine Academy."
Voran leaned forward with the dark iron armor groaning under the immense strain of his muscles.
"But I do not tolerate stagnation, worm."
The oppressive weight of a high-tier Blessed slammed into Caius’s chest, making it physically difficult to draw a breath.
"After a full week of complete seclusion, you had better have improved," Voran demanded."Show me... Show me that you have found a way to weaponize that dying ember... Show me that you are not entirely useless."
Caius froze.
"A demonstration, boy," Voran snarled, the table cracking slightly under his grip. "Right now or I swear upon Valerion’s throne, I will break both of your legs myself and throw you into the wilds."
Absolute panic violently spiked in Caius’s chest.
’Ereba...’ Caius screamed in his mind.
He didn’t have an Ash core anymore! The Goddess of the Void had violently consumed it.
If he tried to summon his magic now, he would either produce absolutely nothing, or he would accidentally leak SSS-Rank Void mana right in front of the most powerful War vessel in the empire...
’I am already on it, Champion,’ Ereba’s entirely unbothered voice echoed reassuringly. ’Just raise your hand.’
Caius swallowed the lump of sheer terror in his throat.
His hands were trembling slightly as he slowly raised his right arm, extending his palm out over the dark obsidian table.
Kane leaned forward and his massive brow furrowed.
Torin watched with wide eager eyes, practically vibrating with anticipation at the prospect of watching his little brother fail and get his legs violently shattered by their father.
Caius focused his mind as he just let the Goddess do the work.
Ereba flawlessly manipulated the residual, dying husk of the Ash core she had devoured.
The air above Caius’s palm grew slightly warm.
A pathetic, weak crackle echoed in the silent dining hall.
Puff!
A tiny, miserable cloud of gray soot sputtered out of his palm.
It drifted aimlessly through the air for exactly two seconds before settling onto the polished obsidian table like a dusting of dirty snow.
Caius stared at it...
His brothers stared at it...
Lord Voran Draxos stared at it...
The sheer failure of the demonstration was so profound that it sucked all the oxygen out of the room.
For three excruciatingly long seconds, the grand hall was completely dead silent.
Then, Torin violently broke.
"BWAHAHAHAHA!"
The second brother threw his head back, howling with unrestrained laughter.
He slammed his fist onto the table with tears practically forming in his viper-like eyes as he pointed at the tiny pile of gray dust.
"Chimney sweepings!" Torin cackled, gasping for air. "Seven days of intense, solitary meditation, and our great little brother has managed to produce exactly enough ash to dirty a rag! Absolutely terrifying! The Divine Academy is going to tremble before you!"
Even Kane, the stoic, massive brute, let out a loud, mocking snort, shaking his head in profound disappointment as he picked up his goblet.
But Lord Voran did not laugh.
The Patriarch’s face twisted into an expression of sickening disgust. He looked at Caius not as a son, but as a vile, pathetic mistake that had somehow slipped through the cracks of his ruthless lineage.
Caius kept his arm extended, his face entirely deadpan, but inside, his blood was boiling with absolute humiliation then, the temperature inside Caius’s mind violently and terrifyingly dropped.
The cool shadowy presence of the Goddess suddenly turned into a heavy crushing abyss.
’They are laughing at my Champion.’ Ereba’s voice did not echo this time.
It was completely... utterly devoid of emotion. It was the cold voice of an ancient deity observing an infestation of insects.
’Should I kill them?’
Caius physically stiffened with his crimson eyes going wide as the hairs on the back of his neck stood entirely on end.
He could feel it.
The apocalyptic weight of the Void stirring restlessly in his soul. Ereba wasn’t making a joke and she wasn’t exaggerating.
’I can erase their souls before they draw their next breath,’ the Goddess offered casually, as if she were offering to sweep the floor. ’I can turn their martial auras into absolute nothingness and collapse their flesh into dust... Say the word, Caius.’
Caius’s heart hammered against his ribs so hard he thought his chest was going to crack open as a cold sweat violently broke out across his forehead.
’No!’ Caius shrieked frantically in his internal monologue, absolutely terrified that she would just do it anyway. ’Do not touch them! Do not leak your mana! If you do that,A God will instantly sense the anomaly and smite the entire estate from orbit! We are in a sanctuary of gods after all...’
He gripped the edges of his chair, trying to suppress the panic vibrating through his bones.
’We will do it later! Not now! Please, not now!’
Ereba paused.
The terrifying abyssal weight lingering in his soul slowly,begrudgingly receded.
’...Very well,’ the Goddess hummed with a hint of genuine disappointment returning to her melodic voice. ’Okay. Later then.’
Caius let out a microscopic trembling exhale, realizing he had just successfully talked an ancient, reality-devouring entity out of casually massacring his entire bloodline over a dinner table insult.
"Silence..." Voran commanded, his disgust reaching its absolute boiling point.
Torin’s laughter immediately cut off, though the sadistic smirk remained plastered across his face.
The Patriarch glared down at Caius.
"There is exactly one month left before the gates of the Divine Academy officially open," Voran stated. "And I refuse to let you sit inside this estate, hiding in your room and eating my food while you disgrace the Draxos name with your pathetic existence."
Caius slowly lowered his hand, bracing himself for the verdict.
"You will not remain here..." Voran decreed.
The Patriarch stood up to his full, monstrous height, casting a massive shadow over the obsidian table.
"At dawn, you will be deployed to The Carrion Front."
Torin’s smirk completely vanished, replaced by a look of genuine shocked surprise.
Even Kane’s massive shoulders tensed slightly.
The Carrion Front.
It was the absolute worst deployment in the entire empire. It was a savage, endless, beast-infested trench warzone located at the absolute edge of the untamed wilds.
It was where the clan sent their disposable soldiers, criminals, and disgraced knights to act as meat shields against the unending hordes of feral magic-corrupted monsters.
It wasn’t a training ground... It was a literal death sentence.
"You will spend the next thirty days in the mud with the rest of the fodder," Voran sneered, completely indifferent to the shock in the room. "You will learn what true fear is. You will either find a way to forge that pathetic ember into a weapon of survival... or you will be buried in a nameless grave, and I will finally be rid of my greatest shame."
Voran didn’t wait for a response.
The Patriarch violently turned on his heel with the heavy iron plates of his armor clanking loudly as he marched out of the grand dining hall, leaving the massive iron doors blown wide open behind him.
The room plunged back into a suffocating silence.
Torin looked at Caius with his viper-like eyes no longer holding amusement, but a cruel pity.
Kane simply picked up his steak knife and went back to eating, completely writing his little brother off as a dead man.
Caius sat frozen in his chair, staring at the tiny pile of gray ash resting on the obsidian table.
’Thirty days at the Carrion Front...’ Caius complained internally as a massive headache beginning to throb behind his eyes. ’My own father is actively, intentionally trying to get me slaughtered before the game’s plot even officially begins.’
Ereba’s soft soothing voice echoed pleasantly in the back of his mind.
’That man really doesn’t like you, does he, Champion?’
Caius let out a long exhausted sigh, picking up his fork and stabbing it into his cold steak.
’Not at all... and I think I know why.’
