Chapter 415: Chapter 415: Massacre 2
When the final cry of the Quagoa died, silence fell like a heavy shroud over the battlefield.
The land had long since vanished beneath layers of gore and viscera. Blood painted the earth in wide strokes, steaming in the cold air as it flowed in shallow rivers between broken weapons and shattered bodies. Dismembered limbs lay scattered like debris after a storm. And atop that ruin, mountains had formed—not of stone or ice, but of corpses.
Quagoa corpses.
Piled one over another, as though nature itself had birthed grotesque monuments to the slaughter.
The dwarves who had manned the walls now stood in stunned silence, eyes wide with disbelief. Some gripped their weapons tightly, as if fearing that the nightmare might not yet be over. Others simply stared, lips parted, unable to form words.
And there—standing alone atop the highest mound of flesh and bone—was Alex.
His coat, once pristine, now clung to him in wet tatters. Every inch of him was soaked in blood—none of it his. His hair hung heavy, drenched in red, and his eyes glowed faintly like smoldering embers in a dying fire. He wasn’t breathing heavily. He didn’t look tired.
He just stood there.
Still. Silent. Sovereign.
To the dwarves, the sight was more terrifying than any monster. It was as though a god of war had descended upon their battlefield and turned it into a sanctuary of death.
The Commander-in-Chief stepped forward from the fortress walls, his boots squelching against the slush of blood-drenched snow. His face was pale, jaw clenched. He had seen countless battles in his life. He had fought beasts, men, and monsters—but never... never anything like this.
"Is he even mortal?" one of the dwarves whispered behind him.
The question went unanswered.
Blue Rose approached slowly. Their steps were cautious, reverent, as though walking through sacred ground. Lakyus said nothing, her face unreadable. Tia and Tina stayed further back, silent as shadows. Gagaran, despite her usual bravado, found her fists clenched at her sides.
But it was Evileye who stared the longest.
Her crimson eyes were locked on Alex, unblinking.
He hadn’t moved from his perch atop the pile of corpses. His back was turned to them, but something about it... about the way he stood—shoulders wide, back straight—invoked a deep, primal discomfort.
There was strength, yes. Immense, undeniable strength. But beneath that strength, there was something else. Something ancient. Something unknowable.
Evileye took a step forward, her lips parting slightly. "That’s not a man," she murmured. "That’s a calamity in human skin."
Alex finally moved. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted one foot and stepped down from the mound. Each step sank into the ruined flesh below, but he moved as though gliding. When he reached level ground, the pool of blood around his feet rippled.
He looked up at the fortress.
His expression was calm—almost gentle.
That made it worse.
When he spoke, his voice was low, smooth, yet carried with it the weight of countless deaths. "It’s done."
The Commander-in-Chief stared at him, struggling to find words. "You... You alone killed... all of them?"
Alex tilted his head slightly. "Not all. Gagaran helped."
"Barely!" Gagaran muttered under her breath, not even trying to sound proud. "I crushed a few skulls, but you... You made art."
"Art?" Lakyus asked quietly.
"Yeah," Gagaran said, looking around. "I mean... look at this. Look at this battlefield."
They did.
The piles of Quagoa were so dense they had become hills—dark, grotesque hills of fur, bone, and blood. The snow was entirely gone, trampled under so many feet and soaked in red. Weapons lay abandoned where their wielders fell. Arrows jutted from the ground like a forgotten graveyard.
And in the center of it all stood Alex.
Evileye slowly stepped closer, stopping just a few feet from him. "You didn’t even use magic," she said.
Alex looked at her. "Didn’t need to."
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Was that your full strength?"
He didn’t answer.
That was all the answer she needed.
The dwarves began to murmur behind the group—whispers of fear and awe. Some fell to their knees. Others made signs to ward off evil. One elder, his beard streaked with black soot, whispered, "The blood god walks..."
Clementine, standing just below the walls and closer to the carnage, sheathed her daggers. Her lips curled into a smirk, but there was tension behind it. "I’ve seen him fight before," she said to no one in particular, "but this was different. He enjoyed that."
Tina, ever the quiet twin, whispered, "Do you think he’s really human?"
"Does it matter?" Tia replied, her tone sharp. "He’s on our side."
"We feared the Quagoa would overrun us," one of the dwarves muttered. "We feared they’d tear down our walls and take our lives." He swallowed. "Now I fear the one who saved us."
Alex stopped just before the gate. He glanced up toward the wall, toward the commander.
"The weak point in your wall," he said, voice steady, "is secure. No Quagoa left."
The commander nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "T-Thank you."
~~~
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