******
The voice that just spoke wasn’t particularly loud. Yet, the emotions it carried—pride, joy, respect, and immense relief—were deafening.
The sheer weight of it sent power shudders down the spines of the villagers, guards, and the rebel force’s spines, igniting something primal within them.
Instinctively, all eyes turned toward the speaker... Lilith.
Right now, she was collapsed on her knees, her breath ragged, her shoulders trembling violently. Her hands clutched at her chest, fingers curling against her dress as if trying to steady her racing heart. Yet, despite her weakened state, her expression—her gaze—
It was filled with immeasurable loyalty, fanaticism, and pure, undying devotion.
Tears streamed down her face and her lips parted slightly, quivering as she gazed at him—at Xylen.
Seeing this, Xylen’s lips twitched, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but before he could even react—
"Long live, lord Xylenia!"
Another voice, weak and unsteady, barely carried through the air. Yet they pierced through the silence that had once descended like a dagger.
This time, however, the voice belonged to one of the rebels—a demon currently drenched in blood, his body battered beyond repair.
One of his arms was missing, deep, ghastly wounds marred his form, and exhaustion clung to him like a shroud, looking as though he would say his final goodbye to the land of the living at any moment.
Yet his eyes—
His yellow pupils still burned with unshaken faith.
The Village was once again shaken by this sight. But before they could wake...
"Long live, Lord Xylenia!"
Another rebel voice rang out.
Then another.
"Long live, Lord Xylenia!"
"Long live, Lord Xyleni!"
"Long live...!"
One by one, the wounded members of the rebel force cried out, their battered bodies barely able to hold themselves up. Yet, despite their agony, their voices rose, trembling but unyielding.
The villagers stood frozen, their eyes slowly widening and their bodies trembling violently.
Then finally... the realization crashed upon them like a tidal wave.
’This... this does not look like a dream!’
’The evil bastard... he has indeed been killed!’
’Could this be an illusion? An impossible fantasy?’
’No... this... this does not look like an illusion nor an impossible fantasy...!’
’Then... then does this mean...’
’We are free at last from the devil’s terrorizing reign?’
Tears slowly welled up in their eyes, the sheer weight of the moment overwhelming them as they watched the rebels—those who had suffered the most weeping and crying out in Xylen’s name with a strong fervor and respect.
The villagers’ hands trembled at this and their lips parted, but their voices caught in their throats, all of them finding it difficult to find a word when suddenly...
"LONG LIVE, LORD XYLENIA!!!"
The first powerful roar tore through the air, badly jolting them all like a violent thunderclap.
They swallowed hard, glancing at the owner of the voice. A heartbeat later, however, another voice followed.
"LONG LIVE, LORD XYLENIA!!!"
Then another.
And another.
"LONG LIVE, LORD XYLENIA!!!"
A torrent of voices surged, echoing through the village and crashing like war drums in perfect unison.
The sheer intensity of their combined cries sent chills down the spine of anyone who heard it, also causing powerful goosebumps to run amok on his skin.
On the other hand, Xylen...
At this moment, he stared in a complete daze at the scene unfolding before him.
His name—his title—was being chanted with reverence, loyalty, and absolute devotion, something he had never expected before in his life or experience.
His blood pumped fiercely through his veins, his temperature rising, the sheer energy of their voices burning through his veins.
’I...’
He clenched his fists, his heart pounding frantically in his chest, his dark eyes seeming to brighten up.
’Although this isn’t real and nothing more than a game, I can’t help but suddenly feel as if I’ve... I’ve truly achieved something...’
It was a feeling he had never known before—something intoxicating, something dangerous. He could almost lose himself in it.
But—
With a sharp breath, he shook his head hard to wake himself up and raised his hand.
Silence.
As if under an unspoken command, the entire village fell into a deathly, pin-drop, and deafening hush, almost every pair of eyes locking onto him with fanatical hope, unwavering respect, and feverish excitement.
Xylen took his time, letting the weight of the moment settle before finally, his gaze shifted and landed on... Kaelrik’s guards.
The instant their eyes met his, however, their faces further turned deathly pale, their former pride, arrogance, and disdain nowhere to be seen again.
They stiffened in place and their bodies turned rigid, their throats bobbing as if swallowing down bile. Their minds screamed at them to deny what was happening—to insist that this wasn’t real and that their master hadn’t just been defeated and slain like a worthless insect.
But Xylen’s gaze...
It was simply undeniably real... and it was brimming with judgment.
Just then—
"I won’t be the one to judge you." His voice sounded, cold, detached, and unforgiving.
But the moment the guards heard it, their heart froze in their chests and the voice sent a paralyzing chill down their spines.
Without reacting, Xyle’s expressionlessly lifted his finger... and pointed at the villagers. At the rebel group.
"At those whose lives you terrorized and made a living nightmare," his voice reverberated, heavily laced with the weight of absolute power. "They will decide your fate."
For a fleeting second, there was nothing.
No one spoke. No one moved. No one blinked. But then...
The villagers’ eyes widened and a heartbeat later—their expressions twisted into something monstrous.
Their trembling hands curled into fists, and their bodies lurched forward, their eyes burning with years of pent-up rage, suffering, and thirst for vengeance.
On the other hand, the guards’ faces turned ashen pale.
They slowly turned their gaze to the villagers... the demons they had always overlooked, terrorized, mocked, and beaten with contempt. The look they met on their faces instantly made their legs give out beneath them.
Without a second thought, they instantly understood the agony that awaited them once these demons got their hands on them.
In the next second, one of them, a demon with quivering hands, collapsed onto his knees and let out a desperate wail.
"Mercy! Please, my lord!"
The others immediately followed suit, throwing themselves onto the ground, their foreheads pressed against the bloodstained dirt.
"My lord! It was that evil Kaelrik who forced me to do all his wicked and heartless bidding!"
"My Lord...!"
They all pleaded desperately, all of them betraying Kaelrik without batting an eye, however, Xylen did not look at them even once.
His gaze was emotionlessly searching through them—
Until finally, it landed on him
A guard who was frantically trying to shrink away, his face hidden, his posture screaming of utter dread, horror, and regret.
Varek.
This demon... He had sold him away to Kaelrik, almost making him fail the mission despite all his plans to succeed.
He was the reason Xylen had nearly lost everything he had worked so hard for, and although he owed Xylen no allegiance or loyalty, he refused to let go.
In an instant, a strong murderous intent swelled in his aura, crackling like an unstable storm.
"I will personally handle you." His voice echoed through the desperate please, his words coming out like ice, sharp and final.
Before anyone, most especially Varek, now petrified in place could react—
Xylen vanished.
By the time he reappeared, it was already over.
Varek’s head hit the ground with a sickening thud, thick blood gushing out from his severed neck like a fountain.
His lifeless eyes, brimming with disbelief, regret, despair, and unwillingness, stared blankly into the void.
If only he had made a different choice.
If only he had sided with Xylen instead.
If only he hadn’t wished to achieve a promotion.
If only...
But unfortunately for him, there was no turning back time.
He had only taken a gamble, and this was the price he had to pay for losing.
As Varek’s eyes finally dimmed and his soul left his body, his subordinates—who had once followed him without question finally reacted. They stumbled backward in horror, their bodies trembling violently... especially those who had treated Xylen like a mere beanbag, carrying him roughly and manhandling him earlier.
But then Xylen only spared them a cold glance before snorting ignoring them all.
"How about this?" He asked suddenly, his voice eerily calm.
"We have a lot to do than waste our time on the useless things here. Our brave warriors need treatment. So... let’s lock these rats away in the prison for now."
The villagers didn’t hesitate.
Not even for a second.
Some volunteered themselves, dragging the guards away with shackles, their faces brimming with wicked smirks and cocky grins.
The others, on the other hand carried the injured rebels were carried off, their wounds tended to.
Lilith, too, was taken away—but her gaze never left Xylen.
As for Xylen... staring at the dispersing villagers, he heaved a huge sigh, relief finally cashing on him.