The Primeval Era-Chapter 119: Demon! I

Her eyes shone with rage as she stared toward Damian and Serala.

She couldn’t reach her bow. The weapon lay on the far side of the deck, corroded and damaged, useless to her now. She couldn’t move her remaining limbs. The tentacles held her in place with strength that exceeded even her Vessel Completion cultivation. She couldn’t speak coherent words. The fury consuming her had reduced her to something more beast than human.

So she roared like a beast!

"GAH..GRAAH!"

The sound was primal and terrifying, filled with a hatred that seemed to transcend anything else! This was a woman who had never been defeated so thoroughly. This was an Imperator who had conquered armies and shattered Tribes and hunted Behemoths across the Lands of Stone!

And she had been brought low in seconds.

By a young man with strange flames.

By a Holy Daughter who should have been prey.

By a Slime who had caught her completely off guard.

The humiliation was worse than the injuries!

Damian looked at her coldly.

Things had gone unfathomably better than any of them could have hoped. The ambush had worked. The element of surprise had been absolute. Imperator Vienna, the Vessel Completion cultivator who had seemed so untouchable from a distance, was now bound and bleeding and helpless before them.

He felt no satisfaction.

Only cold purpose.

Serala turned her gaze toward Imperator Vienna.

But first, she looked at all the bodies scattered across the deck. The dead. The dying. Those whose limbs had been cut off and lay separated from their bodies. Those who would never rise again.

She didn’t feel any disgust.

She actually felt some form of justice.

These were not good people. They had participated in the hunting of the Holy Daughter. They had aided in the triggering of Primal Surges that had killed countless innocents. They had served a regime that murdered emperors and mutilated history to cover its crimes.

Even though her lessons taught peace and love, it should not be reserved for these people.

The Hallowed Voice spoke of mercy, but mercy was earned. The Covenant preached forgiveness, but forgiveness required repentance. These warriors had shown no mercy to the tribes they had helped destroy. They had shown no repentance for the atrocities they had committed.

Why should she offer them what they had never offered others?

She turned her gaze away from the fallen warriors.

She came to stand beside Damian.

And she looked at Imperator Vienna with eyes that held no warmth, no compassion, no trace of the peaceful Holy Daughter she had been raised to become.

"You’ve been trying to flush me out."

Her voice was cold.

"Here I am."

She tilted her head slightly.

"But I have some questions for you first. Answer them..."

Her wing-shaped pupils blazed with terrifying light.

"And your death may be a quick one."

...!

Words that absolutely did not fit the Holy Daughter erupted into the silence.

Even the enraged Imperator Vienna turned incredulous, her bestial roaring cutting off as she stared at this young woman who spoke of death with such casual cruelty. This was the Holy Daughter of Stone? This was the sacred vessel of the Covenant’s future? This was the gentle soul that the Hallowed Voice had raised to lead their people toward peace?

The contradiction was stunning!

But Serala didn’t care about contradictions anymore.

She cared about answers, and she would have them!

The vessel floated in silence broken only by the groans of dying warriors and the sizzle of Masamuk’s acidic tentacles against Imperator Vienna’s flesh.

Serala stepped forward.

Her wing-shaped pupils blazed with cold light as she looked upon the bound Imperator, this woman who had hunted her across the Lands of Stone, who had triggered Primal Surges that killed thousands, who had participated in whatever conspiracy had brought the Saint of Stone low.

"What happened to the Saint of Stone?"

Her voice carried across the ruined deck.

"What happened to my Master?"

Imperator Vienna looked at her through eyes filled with pain and hatred. Blood leaked from her ruined body, crimson Mana still bubbling around her wounds in desperate attempts to keep her alive. The obsidian tentacles continued to burn wherever they touched, adding new agonies to those she already endured.

And yet she smiled.

Bloody lips pulled back to reveal teeth stained red.

"Haha..."

The laugh started small and grew into something manic.

"That old bitch is comatose! Likely never to wake again! The families of the Covenant did their work well. They caught her completely off guard, and now she floats in darkness while her precious Holy Daughter runs around like a lost lamb!"

...!

Serala’s hands clenched at her sides.

The Saint of Stone had been more than a master to her. She had been the closest thing to a mother Serala had known since being taken from her birth family. She had taught Serala everything about cultivation, about duty, about what it meant to carry the weight of the Covenant’s future.

And now she was comatose.

Possibly forever.

Serala controlled her emotions with discipline forged across years of training. Her face remained cold. Her voice remained steady. Only the increased brightness of her wing-shaped pupils betrayed the fury building within her.

"Why are you all doing this?"

She took another step forward.

"When did the Dominion of Crimson Stone extend their reach to the families of the Covenant of the First Stone? Just what does the Murderous Saint want?" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

At such words, Damian and Masamuk focused intently on Imperator Vienna.

The massive slime above had reduced the intensity of his tentacles’ grip, allowing the Imperator to speak more freely. This information mattered. Understanding the enemy’s goals could mean the difference between survival and destruction.

Vienna looked between the three of them.

Pain and incredulity warred across her features as she shook her head slowly, blood dripping from her chin onto the ruined deck below.

"All of you don’t know."

Her voice was rough with agony but carried a mocking edge.

"You don’t even know what you don’t know."

She laughed again, the sound wet and broken.

"The Lands of Stone are vast, but the three Neolithic Empires of these regions are not everything. The Lands of Beasts are not everything. To become a Warrior who can stand above the vast Lands of Stone..."

Her eyes gleamed with something that might have been fanaticism.

"All the nearby empires need to be unified. There needs to be a single ruler of these regions."

She smiled through bloody teeth.

"After the Covenant of the First Stone falls, others will follow. The Obsidian Throne. The scattered tribes. Even these filthy beasts..."

Her gaze turned upward toward the massive Masamuk hovering above.

"Even those filthy beasts will be capable of nothing but kneeling before The Great Saint. Before The True Ruler. Before..."

Her voice dropped to something reverent.

"The Great Warrior."

BOOM!

The Great Warrior.

The Murderous Saint!