usatvline Chapter 359: The Mouth of Hell
Chapter 359: The Mouth of Hell
On the Crimson Dunes, merchants, store owners, and many others were human awakeners who had given up on their pursuit of ascending to the third floor. They had taken the second floor as their new home.
Many had even started families.
This had become normal for many awakeners who could no longer pursue their goal. Some even felt it was impossible to pass the trials. Many were scared of the horror of ruins.
Many had their firm hearts shaken when they saw the brutality of the second floor and how little human lives meant.
Why fight?
Why struggle?
Why could they not have a normal life like many other people?
Why must it be them?
Why must they be the people to pay the price?
Why must they be the ones who had to save their world?
With many unanswered questions, many gave up, enjoying the little comfort the second floor had to offer them. To them, that was better than losing their lives in some unknown ruin.
With that decision, many began to live a life that was impossible to imagine before. To achieve their goal, many went to various lengths.
Some became merchants.
Some became store owners.
Some became guards for powerful parties.
Some became brokers who traded information, supplies, and lives without blinking.
In towns, those who managed to establish themselves grew proud and complacent. Most especially for those who were connected with powerful guilds like the Slave Trade Guild.
In Sandroach Town, the town might belong to the Slave Trade Guild, but the guild could not manage everything on its own.
It had to depend on the merchants and store owners. Thus, the influence of the merchants and store owners further increased.
On the western street, their words were law, and many weaker awakeners were at their mercy.
A single sentence from them could deny someone food.
A single gesture from them could bring guards to someone’s door.
A single complaint from them could ruin the life of a powerless awakener.
But today...
That reality was broken.
"Nooooooo. Nooooo."
"D Do not kill me..."
"I-I have enough silver coins. P-Please... Ahhhhh!"
The western district was in chaos. Miserable screams filled the air, and the lively scene was long gone.
Fear and panic filled everyone’s heart.
Bang! Bang!
The heads of the two guards protecting the entrance of the gambling den exploded like watermelons.
The undead Storm Tyrant moved like a walking tank, dismantling everything and everyone in its path.
Those who chose to become guards for the gambling den were nothing but weak awakeners who were too scared to explore ruins.
Against the undead Storm Tyrant, a single hammer strike was enough to send them to kingdom come.
Bang!
The wooden door shattered to pieces, and it marched inside. Its hollow, fiery soul fire burned eerily as it walked toward its target.
Many guards tried to stop it but were blasted into smithereens.
"Noooo... Noooo!"
A fat young man hid at the corner, trembling vehemently. His body was covered in perspiration.
Sensing the intimidating presence of the undead Storm Tyrant, his heart almost leapt out of his chest.
Before the fat young man could open his mouth to plead for his life, a massive hammer appeared in his vision.
Boom!
His fat body exploded into fragments of blood and flesh.
The gambling den that had once been filled with laughter, curses, and clinking coins instantly turned into a slaughterhouse.
Tables were smashed apart.
Dice rolled through pools of blood.
Silver coins scattered across the ground, stained crimson by their owners’ remains.
Those who had once cheated others with proud smiles now crawled beneath broken tables and chairs, praying not to be noticed.
But the undead Storm Tyrant did not care about their wealth, status, or pleas.
It only followed Thoren’s command.
In another part of the western street, inside the brothel, the undead Royalty Stonewall cut everyone in its path into two.
Heads separated from their necks.
Bodies were split from head to toe.
Brutal.
Merciless.
Mages and Elementalists cast fire from the distance, trying to take it down, but everything was futile.
Flames struck its cloak and armor.
Wind blades crashed against its body.
Earth spikes rose from the floor.
Yet none of them could stop its advance.
It marched forward with indomitable force, slaying everyone in its path.
Many begged for their lives.
Many escaped through the back, only to welcome a fate worse than what they could bargain for.
Waiting there were the undead Elite Jackal Beastman and the undead shield soldiers.
The moment they rushed out, thinking they had found a way to survive, death greeted them silently.
Claws tore through throats.
Shields smashed bones.
Blades cut down anyone marked by Thoren as a target.
In less than two minutes, the brothel had been reduced to nothing but a graveyard.
Mutilated bodies were scattered everywhere.
Hands.
Legs.
Heads.
Organs splattered to the ground.
The air reeked of a thick blood stench. Those innocently working in the brothel, hiding in the corner, were shaking as they watched the carnage.
Some covered their mouths with trembling hands.
Some curled into themselves behind torn curtains.
Some stared blankly, unable to believe the people who had controlled their lives were being slaughtered without resistance.
Even after the undead Royalty Stonewall departed, none dared come out of their hiding.
Never in their wildest dreams did they ever believe the brothel would be attacked.
Worse, it happened under the control of the Slave Trade Guild.
On the street, the massacre was going on in full swing. A few of the store owners and merchants who could still fight were trying desperately to hold their ground.
"W-Why has the guild not arrived?"
"I cannot die here. I cannot!"
"Wh-Where are these demons coming from?"
Swish! Swish!
Ahhh! Ahhhh!
A young woman and a young man hiding behind a broken table by the roadside had their heads severed at breathtaking speed.
The young man holding his bow and nocking an arrow to the bowstring could not understand how he was killed.
For the young woman, she was an assassin good at concealed weapons. Their combination could deter many forces, yet they died in a blink.
Looking at their corpses, the few store owners froze in their spots.
"What just happened?!" a voice screamed.
"I am scared."
"Shit! Shit! They have killed all the guards!" a figure shouted.
Instantly, everyone’s attention shifted to the end of the street. Behold, all the guards were lying sprawled on the ground in their pools of blood.
It was bloody.
Scary.
The western street that had once symbolized the control of the Slave Trade Guild now looked like the mouth of hell.