Free Web NovelChapter 624: 624. Looks Like We’re All Playing Hide and Kill Now! Ready Or Not Here I Kill!
The air in the Underlayer was no longer oxygen; it was a thick, suffocating soup of copper-scented mist and the scorched aroma of incinerated flesh. Rex was no longer merely fighting; he had entered a state of transcendental carnage. The "performance management" was gone.
The restraint was dead. He was a god of the slaughter, and the rhythm of his destruction had become a frantic, beautiful madness.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The laugh erupted from Rex’s throat, not a joyful sound but a jagged, manic peal of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that sliced through the screams of the dying. It was the laugh of a man who had looked into the abyss and found it hilarious.
A massive, armored troll, its skin like weathered granite, stumbled toward him, its eyes wide with a terror it couldn’t comprehend. The beast fell to its knees, its massive hands trembling as it reached out toward the blood-drenched sovereign.
"Mercy... Great Lord... please... mercy!" it bellowed, its voice cracking with a pathetic, desperate hope.
Rex didn’t even slow down. He moved through the troll like a hot knife through lard.
SHLICK!
With a casual, sweeping motion of his telekinesis, he didn’t just strike the troll; he gripped its very essence. He twisted.
CRACK RRRRRRIP!
The creature’s spine didn’t just break; it spiraled out of its body in a grotesque, fleshy corkscrew. The troll’s plea was cut short by a wet, gurgling GLUG, as its lungs were crushed into a bloody pulp.
"Mercy?" Rex roared, his eyes wide and gleaming with a terrifying, manic light.
He stepped over the twitching corpse, his boots squelching in the gore. "You wanted mercy when you were charging?"
"You wanted mercy when you were screaming for your ’gods’ to save you? Now is the time for consequences!"
He turned his attention to a group of retreating Demonettes, their dark wings fluttering in a frantic, useless attempt to take flight. Rex didn’t let them escape.
He raised his hands, and the Elemental Mastery reacted to his frantic, soaring heartbeat. The very air around them began to vibrate at a lethal frequency.
HUMMMMMMM VREEEEEE!
The air became a vacuum of jagged sonic blades.
SH SH SH SH SH SH!
The Demonettes were caught in a localized cyclone of sound and pressure. Their wings were shredded into black ribbons, and their bodies were flayed layer by layer as the sonic waves tore through their skin.
They didn’t just die; they were disintegrated into a fine, dark mist of blood and shadow. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
SPLAT!
Rex’s movements became increasingly erratic and more violent, fueled by a dark, intoxicating adrenaline. He was a blur of crimson and gold.
He caught a charging Orcish Berserker by the jaw and, with a burst of Physique and Earth Authority, he slammed the creature’s head directly into the ground with such force that the earth itself cratered.
BOOOOOM!
The orc’s skull didn’t just crack; it exploded like a ripened fruit, sending brain matter and bone shards flying into the eyes of the nearby soldiers.
SQUISH!
"More! GIVE ME MORE!" Rex screamed, his voice cracking with a manic fervor.
He was laughing again, a wild, breathless sound that sent a wave of pure dread through the survivors.
He saw a group of goblins huddled together, weeping, their tiny hands clasped in prayer to gods that had long since abandoned them. They were begging, their high-pitched whimpers a chorus of absolute submission.
Rex approached them, his shadow looming over them like a shroud of death.
"Please! We surrender! We submit!" the lead goblin shrieked, pressing its forehead into the blood-soaked dirt.
Rex leaned down, his face inches from the trembling creature. The manic grin on his face was wider than the horizon.
"Submission comes after the conquest," he whispered, his voice a terrifying, melodic caress. "But you... you’re just late."
He didn’t use a punch. He used his Creation Magic to manifest a dozen microscopic, razor-sharp needles of solidified gravity.
ZING! ZING! ZING!
The needles rained down upon the huddle of goblins. They didn’t just pierce; they pulled.
The gravitational force of each needle dragged the Goblins toward one another with such violent intensity that the creatures were crushed together into a single, mangled ball of screaming, overlapping limbs and broken bones.
CRUNCH SQUELCH!
He stood in the center of the massacre, chest heaving, his skin steaming from the heat of the blood and the elemental friction. He was a whirlwind of red, a deity of the genocide, and as he looked out at the remaining, trembling masses of the Underlayer, his laughter rose once more, a terrifying, triumphant sound that promised that the night was far from over, and the harvest had only just begun.
...
The battlefield had transitioned from a war to a slaughterhouse and finally to a hunting ground. The grand armies of the Underlayer were gone, reduced to a scattered collection of terrified, hiding animals.
The air was no longer filled with the roar of combat but with the heavy, suffocating silence of dread, broken only by the wet, rhythmic sounds of Rex’s continuing madness.
Rex stood amidst a literal sea of viscera, his breathing heavy but his eyes burning with a frantic, unquenchable light. The "targets" were gone.
There were no more phalanxes to break, no more champions to duel. Yet, the manic grin on his face didn’t fade; it sharpened.
He wasn’t looking for soldiers anymore; he was looking for life.
"Where are you?" Rex called out, his voice a jagged, melodic lilt that echoed through the ruins of the castle.
He began to laugh a high, breathless, terrifying sound that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of the survivors’ bones. "Don’t tell me the great resistance and coalition are just... hiding?"
"Is this the end of the rebellion? Tucking your tails and praying the dark swallows you?"
"But... don’t you all fucking worry because we can move on to the next game..." Rex smirked. "Hide... and kill..."
He began to move, not with the heavy tread of a conqueror, but with the prowling, predatory grace of a wolf. He wasn’t just walking; he was haunting the landscape. He used his telekinesis to peel back the layers of the world.
SKREEEEEEE!
He ripped massive slabs of stone from the earth, tossing them aside like parchment to reveal the terrified Orcs and Goblins huddling in the dark crevices beneath.
CRUNCH!
He didn’t even look down as he brought his heel down on a hiding Goblin scout, the sound of the creature’s skull flattening like a ripe melon echoing in the quiet.
SPLAT!
"Found you," he whispered, a dark, delighted chuckle escaping his lips.
As he hunted, he noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The few of his own forces, the elite survivors of his initial purge, were no longer standing in awe.
They were catching his fever. Inspired by his absolute, unhinged dominance, they began to fan out, their eyes reflecting the same bloodlust. They became his hounds.
A group of his soldiers, driven by a primal, infectious madness, began to descend into the trenches and the dark tunnels. Rex watched with a smug, satisfied tilt of his head as they began to drag screaming survivors into the light.
SHLICK! THUD!
The sounds of their uncoordinated, brutal killings provided a rhythmic percussion to Rex’s manic laughter.
"Yes!" Rex roared, throwing his head back as he watched a soldier impale a surrendering demon on a jagged piece of rebar. "Don’t let them breathe!"
"If they have a pulse, they are an insult to my victory!"
He turned his attention to a massive, hollowed-out fallen titan, a creature whose corpse had become a makeshift bunker for dozens of retreating soldiers. They were huddled in the dark, praying, weeping, believing the massive carcass would shield them from the god of destruction.
Rex’s eyes narrowed. A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face.
"A fortress of meat," he mused. "How poetic." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
He didn’t just attack the titan; he manipulated the very elements within it. He plunged his hands into the earth and channeled his Elemental Mastery directly into the ground beneath the titan.
VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The ground didn’t just shake; it liquefied into a boiling, pressurized sludge of mud and magma.
GLOOP! HISS!
The soldiers inside the titan began to scream as the floor beneath them turned into a churning, scalding cauldron.
SCREEEEEE!
But Rex wasn’t finished. He used his telekinesis to seize the very air inside the titan’s hollowed body, creating a sudden, violent vacuum.
WHHHHHOOOOOOOOOP!
The immense pressure differential caused the soldiers’ lungs to literally implode, sucking their bodies toward the center of the vacuum with sickening force.
POP! CRUNCH!
As the titan’s carcass finally burst open from the internal pressure, a spray of blood, bone, and half-melted armor erupted into the air like a macabre fountain.
KRA SPLAT!
Rex stood in the center of the carnage, his arms spread wide, his chest heaving as he bathed in the spray of the dying. He was laughing harder now, a loud, unhinged, maniacal cackle that signaled the complete dissolution of his sanity into the pure joy of genocide.
He was no longer a man, nor a king, nor even a god; he was the personification of the end of all things, a beautiful, terrifying nightmare that refused to let the world die quietly.
