Chapter 165: Book Three – Chapter Seven – Part Six – Prelude to the Banquet

After looking up at the dying light, Servi jumped to her feet and raced up the stairs she had thrown herself down. Behind her, the reinforcements reached their fallen comrades, and they didn’t show any bit of emotion. Monotonia was the poison that rotted their brains, and they would only receive orders from the one who gave them the poison they desperately needed to survive. And if those commands didn’t include something as simple as helping their fellow Suits if they sustained any injuries, then absolutely nothing would happen.  

And that was what happened. Servi didn’t know how they saw in the pitch darkness, but she did see them step on and over their fellow Suits like a pack of wild animals as they raced up the stairs. They all had sharp weapons in their hands, and as they prepared to throw them at the intruder, but a solid wall of metal appeared. One Suit, the one further ahead, was caught by the ascending wall and died being crushed between the ceiling and walls.  

Blood dripped down the walls while Servi heard her enemies do all in their power to destroy the wall of metal. Their orders were to eliminate any enemies who dared to bring harm to their masters, and come hell or high water, they were brainwashed to do it. Using a Nadrium sword, Servi punctured a tiny little hole near the bottom of the wall.  

“What better place to test out the power than in a place that’s closed up? Niadiabola, I want you to do your worst,” Servi stuck her hand near the hole and used the hellish skill. A thick, red cloud was forced within the opening, shooting out like a pressurized pipe that had just come unclogged. Immediately, Servi heard bodies drop to the floor as Niadiabola began to feed on whatever oxygen was inside.  

Then it felt like the entire world was struck by an earthquake. The fire-lightning raged on unscathed. The powerful strikes torched and set fire to everything, even the stone walls, and it was so loud that the ground shook with every crack of lightning. Servi plugged the hole with her hand, laughing as she sat down.

“Just think. If I remove my hand, then Niadiabola would come out and bring hell to Arcton. The massacre won’t be confined any longer. I wonder what’ll happen if I let it take revenge for me? How many would die? It'd be worth it, but hell, the lightning might reach the forest and kill Momo. As much as I want total devastation, I can’t risk Momo to something out of my control? Wait, if I act all fucking reserved after I said I wasn’t, then aren’t I a hypocrite?”

Servi, if you move your hand, there’s a chance Momo will die! Niadiabola doesn’t discern from friend or foe! Please, don’t risk it! 

"Hypocrite... HYPOCRITE!?!?!?!?!?" Servi shouted. Her head started to hurt for a hasty second, then the pain disappeared.

Itarr remained silent and stayed still while the lightning ferociously liquified every living thing it touched.  

About ten minutes later, the first Niadiabola had finally vaporized out of existence, and the crimson glow had died down. She turned her head from the Metal Wall to the outside, straining her ears for any sign of life. She saw that the city was still on fire. The tall buildings surrounding the alley she was in were only half their original size, and the ground shook as chunks of metal and stone fell down to the ground. A part of her wanted Arcton to have been completely burned, but that wasn't the case. A desperate scream a few seconds later meant that life was still thriving.

Servi guessed it had been long enough, and she cut off the connection to the second Niadiabola, which was inside the hole. At the same time, she removed her hand from the opening and repaired it with Metal Wall. After waiting for another ten minutes, she heard no more lightning and correctly assumed it had stopped. With no oxygen and Skill Energy, the skill had no choice but to die with a whimper. But even as it died out, it had killed a tremendous amount of people, and Servi’s eyes filled with red orbs as they swarmed her.  

“How many?” she said as she smashed through the Metal Wall.  

751. 

Servi read her ID and walked down the rest of the stairs. A large portion of the stone used to construct the walls and ceilings had melted and covered what remained in a sickening goop. The smell was horrendous, something that shouldn’t have been possible, but Servi didn’t have to worry about it.  

Since it was dark, Servi used Lux Sphere to give herself a small ball of light that acted as a flashlight. The hallway was long and straight, almost like the 5th base's corridor, but she didn’t see any doors. With nothing else to do, she started to walk. Servi passed by piles of ashes and half-melted weapons. That was her reward and consequence of using such a horrible skill, but Servi only smiled. If she used Niadiabola to its utmost potential, there wouldn’t be anything she couldn’t kill.  

Once she reached the end of the hallway, she found a single door. It was metal, but the middle of it had a large opening. Lightning must’ve struck it. Servi formed a fist, punched it off of its hinges, and stepped through.  

“Ah, here it is,” she muttered. “I guess the 3rd base was a nice mixture of the 5th and 4th.” 

She didn’t know what it looked like before Niadiabola did its devilish work, but it looked like a slice of hell. In terms of size, the 4th base, while similar, didn’t compare.  The ceiling was so high above Servi that she felt like a Dwarf in a crater. If Servi didn’t have Lux Sphere, then it’d be totally dark, and she wouldn’t have been able to see something that nearly disgusted her.  

Spared from Niadiabola’s more destructive tendencies, a large wooden and stone platform rested nearby. It spanned the length of the room, and it came up about five meters. The rocky stairs used to ascend the stage-like platform had been lost in the attack, but covering such a distance was child’s play to Servi. With a quick hop, she soared across the empty room and scouted about. She saw ash—remains from the burnt corpses, but that wasn't all.

They were rare, but she saw small iron tools covered with red blood. She wondered what they were used for, but she didn’t know that she would get an answer sooner than she thought. The platform she landed on wasn’t a platform—it was a large feeding trough. It was hollowed out, and although there was a red liquid similar to blood filling it up, there was something else to it.  

Corpses.  

Corpses floated around the trough like ducks at a lake, and Servi perceived that it was blood. Pushing Lux Sphere to its limits, the whole area lit up. It was only then she got a clear look at what she had to deal with. It wasn’t just one feeding trough-like object: there were five. And scattered about the large room like bugs were corpses that Niadiabola had inevitably missed, but they weren’t Demi-Human corpses. No, they were far too tiny and underdeveloped. She couldn't tell the genders, but it didn’t matter because Servi discovered the Suits' food source.

Babies.

She didn’t think the whole situation could get any more disturbing, but it did. It was nearly impossible to feed such a large army that had to stay hidden, but if they resorted to cannibalism, then it would’ve worked. And since the Suits were totally controlled by the manipulative powers of the Monotonia, they only needed the bare minimum. A single child could probably feed two or three, and in a place like Arcton where the booze and sex flowed free, unwanted children were a dime a dozen. And that even didn’t take into account the people that died every day. When she thought about it, there couldn’t be a better food source. The Suits couldn’t care if dinner was a pig roasted for hours on end or the arm of a toddler who died from malnourishment. They only needed the bare minimum of nourishment, and that was it.

To sate her morbid curiosity, Servi dashed from feeding trough to feeding trough and checked out what was inside. And as she expected, all were filled with blood. There were some corpses-- mainly children, but some adults. And chunks of meat floated around like it was a crimson soup.  

Itarr wanted to vomit, but she didn’t have the body to do so. It was so revolting and disgusting that there was someone who decided on this course of action. She was so thankful Servi hopped down off the trough and walked towards the giant metal doors at the back. They were the only things that could even be considered ‘pristine,’ but there were still fifteen or twenty scorched black soot marks from where Niadiabola had been defeated. It was the only thing that had withstood its destructive power.  

Servi heard a loud screeching, like two rusty gears grinding together, and as the doors ascended upward, speckles of light appeared. Evidentially, the room had its own light source. Shutting off Lux Sphere, Servi dashed with her full speed under the ever-decreasing cover of darkness while retrieving a sword. She tossed it in front of her. As it slid across the floor, the scraping noise it produced was drowned out by the metal door’s grinding gears.  

The moment her thrown weapon slid under the barely raised door, Servi used Metal Wall and forced the door open at speed it wasn’t designed for. The gears instantly broke, and the whole opening system fell apart. But now that it was wide open, Servi saw the final targets she would kill for the night.  

All three were stumpy Dwarves with bloody aprons. Their eyes were foggy and whitened, and they each held a different bloody weapon. Behind them laid a complex machine whose sole purpose was to take in corpses and eviscerate them into a fine liquid via many bladed weapons. The supply mechanism was a flat pitchfork that stabbed into a glass holding cell filled with terrified people. Even as the conscious ones cried out for help and banged against the glass, their desperation wouldn’t ever reach Servi. In a way, the horrible scene reminded the calm girl with black hair of the disgusting hole she destroyed in Deset. A part of her wondered if this place would be their final destination if she never interfered.  Was it possible that Deset's hole was just a place to collect food in the form of people, and they would then be delivered to this location for further processing?

Did it really matter to Servi?

The glass holding cell was soundproofed by using technology imported from Westera. The poor bastards inside could scream and shout for eons, but their voices wouldn’t ever be heard again unless someone rescued them or the glass eroded. But the chances of that happening were close to none. One: because of its design, the holding cell had no airflow. Whenever a new batch of feed was delivered, the glass prison was open just long enough to add people. Two: because of that, death was a certainty. It would be either by eviscerations or suffocation, but dying a frightening death was assured. Three: the glass was heavily reinforced, and not even a team of Kobolds could break its hold. Time would eventually decompose, but that was a long-term solution, meaning it would take tens of thousands of years. Even an Elf would die before then.

“Who’s there?” Wait, blood?” the Dwarf on the right spoke as he sniffed the air.  

“I guess you’re blind. Ahh... that's such a shame. I wanted you to see what I did. But I guess it doesn’t matter in the long run." Speaking in a calm voice that didn’t befit the situation, Servi calmly pulled a sword from her ring and carefully pressed it into the rightmost Dwarf’s throat. The ones in the left and middle reacted violently and shouted Greater Lightning Bolt. Two yellow orbs appeared overhead and formed into one as a flash of light illuminated nearly everything.  

Servi heard a sharp crackle, and her body was blown to smithereens.  

“Huh,” Servi said as her body regenerated, “skills can combine like that? That’s good to know. I guess this wasn’t a waste of time. But you know, if you can’t see, then I can’t really get my revenge.” Stark naked, Servi turned around and snapped her fingers right when the two Dwarves shouted. The Lava Wall Servi used appeared about midway up the Dwarves’ feet. Their ankles melted almost instantly, and their bodies followed suit a moment later.

Itarr hastily asked about the people trapped in the glass cube as Servi walked away.  

“Fuck em. If those bastards were weak enough to get captured, they should've done more to fight off the Mafia. They’re enemies. They’re all fucking enemies. Be thankful I'm letting them die without being turned into food.” When Servi had reached the exit to the large room, she turned around. Thanks to one of the properties of the Wall-type skills, it was possible to set a shape for it. Because of that, the Lava Wall only enveloped the room behind the large doors that opened upwards. The odd machine had been baptized by divine lava originating from a girl who shared her soul with a Goddess.

Itarr cried as she imagined the pain and sorrow the people inside the holding cell felt. She knew Servi believed that they deserved it, but Itarr didn’t think that. The countless murders she saw and aided had started to crack away at her feelings. Itarr wasn’t an emotionless Goddess-- not anymore.  She could cry and laugh, she could feel sadness and happiness, and even how to feel fear and hopelessness. She wanted Servi to make a beeline for the forest. The quicker she saved Momo, the faster the three of them could leave the rotten city.  

But while Servi wanted to save Momo, she desired revenge even more. She couldn’t contemplate the Boss breaking the rules of the game he set up, and since he gave a deadline and even offered her a way to find him via the smoke signal, she was going to take full advantage of the time left to kill her true enemies.  

It was the oddest thing, but Servi felt she could trust Sakdu to keep his word. When pressed to ask why, Servi would respond in hundreds of different ways. Was it because she wanted to believe—trust—in him? Was it possible the growing urge to commit mass murder had gone out of control? Was the so-called ‘Mad Dog’ behind her controversial feelings? Whatever it was, and the reason would change each time Servi was asked the question, Itarr wasn’t a fan of it at all. She hated it. 

The people of Arcton were at fault for letting everything happens the way it did. At least, that was what Servi thought. And as she made her way down the long hallway and up the stairs that led to the cellar entrance, the Lava Wall she created had its restrictions lifted. With no boundaries, it spread like crazy, melting even the hardest metals in seconds while devouring everything. The feeding troughs burned without a single bit of blood or stone remaining. It grew like a wildfire and threatened to swallow its creator's ankles.  

But before it did, it sizzled out of existence with a passive whimper. The intoxicating heat rushed out of the only exit, but before it could burn Servi to a crisp, she dropped a spare sword and used Metal Wall to form an air-tight seal.  

Once she reached the top, she found herself in the middle of a group of frightened people. Servi looked at the six of them and correctly guessed that they suffered from the first Niadiabola. Two of them were missing arms, but all suffered from deadly burns. Servi didn’t know how they were alive. She thought it possible that they were looking for an out-of-the-way place to die.  

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll grant it,” she spoke in a cold voice as six weapons appeared from her ring. The six weapons drilled down into their heads, spinning like a cyclone. It was a silent massacre. No one screamed for mercy or help, and it was over a second after it happened.  

Standing alone in an alley filled with the stench of death, Servi chuckled and crouched down. Kicking off with everything she had, she flew higher than ever before. Nearly the entire town was in her sight, and thanks to Feather Fall, she could stay airborne for minutes on end.  

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“One of these days, I’ll swear I’ll touch you,” Servi muttered as she closed her eyes. Her sight had been on the moon, but it was still so far out of her reach that she couldn’t joke about it. Instead, the black-haired red-eyed simply smiled and allowed gravity to take over her Feather Fall-affected body. Her black hair lightly danced around as she floated to the ground. The sickening crimson under her feet alerted her to the fact that she was naked.  

She fixed that with a quick snap and crouched down again. Her destination wasn’t the moon or sky, but it was the building close by.  

Where are we going? 

“Back to Deset,” Servi read the words off of her ID as she gently landed on the roof. “Oh, I gotta do something. Hey, I need to injure myself again, so don’t heal me.” 

Okay, I won’t. Though Itarr agreed, the Goddess didn’t like the plan. She desperately wanted this nightmare to end, but she wasn’t in control anymore. There was nothing she could do. Like a helpless passenger, Itarr was just along for the ride. The indifferent look on her beloved’s face as she ripped out an eye and carved her own scalp shook Itarr to the core. She once wondered about Servi’s past, but now she didn’t want to know.  

She believed whatever happened in the past that shaped Servi as a whole was better off being lost to the depths of her mind. Other than having the same body, voice, and goals, the two Servis felt like different people. One enjoyed killing all that stood in her way without a second thought, while the other believed in the good buried deep within people.  

Itarr desperately yearned for the Servi that reconciled with Fisher. She wished with all of her divine heart that the Servi who agreed to fund the orphanage was the real Servi.

If we can't find Momo and...and...and fix this... I'm scared of what's going to happen... If I didn’t say anything, I’m sure—no, I know Servi would’ve allowed Niadiabola to devour the town! Servi, please, come back to me! Why won’t you go rescue Momo?!?! 

After fusing the wig to her head via healing, splitting her skin to attach her eye patch, and pushing the colored-glass into her eye, Servi changed into a protective set of leather armor. It wasn’t the same one she had on when she left with that 5th, but it was similar enough.  

“Maybe I should make a quick stop by Dal’s house. Isn’t that his name? The one Old Man and I went and extorted money from? I’m sure he helped the Mafia, so I might as well kill him.” 

I’m sure they’ve already left by now. Servi, there’s no use in going to do that. Itarr wrote. The letters appeared suspiciously quickly, almost as if Itarr was trying to change Servi’s mind by the power of words.  

“You’re right. Dal's wife and children are probably gone. But if I see him, I’ll slaughter him. And that goes for his fucking wife and her two brats. Why should... Why... Enemies... They’re all my enemies...” Servi’s words were cold, cryptic, and harsh, and Itarr felt chills run through her immaterial body.  

Racing through over the rooftops, Servi eventually landed a few blocks away from Deset. She rounded the corner, nodded to the two who stood guard and made her way through Deset until she reached the door to her room.  

As she expected, Old Man was fast asleep, but he was alert. He didn’t fully trust Servi or Carrie, and Servi believed there was nothing wrong with that. She still didn’t know why he told her his life story. Staring for but a moment, she walked over to the only other door and opened it.  

Glancing to the bed, Servi saw Carrie. Spread out like an eagle, she was bare naked. Her nipples were slightly erect from the chilly breeze that somehow invaded Deset. At first glance, Servi thought she was awake. However, her closed eyes and rhythmically moving chest proved otherwise. Carrie likely fell asleep while waiting, but Servi wasn’t going to take any chances in the off chance she woke up in the middle of the night.   

“If you think I’m gonna fuck you, you got another thing coming. Itarr, fill the room with the sleeping gas. I’m gonna go sit down and think about shit for a few hours.” 

Servi noticed her ID didn’t buzz or vibrate. But as long as the gas appeared, she was fine. Servi took a seat against Carrie's clothing and hugged her knees close to her chest. Her single blue eye stared motionlessly at the wall ahead of her.

A red stone tablet appeared, and Itarr asked the weighty question once more. Servi... Why can’t we go save Momo? Why...? 

“Because the town and Mafia have to suffer. How can I face her if the ones behind her disappearance are still breathing? Yes, I could go ahead and wipe out the bases, but I want them to feel fear. I want them to feel the dread that their life could be taken if I chose to act. Besides, Momo’s a strong girl. She’s strong... She has to be strong... She will be strong...” 

Momo’s scared! Why don’t we save her? Then we can destroy the town later!!! 

“She’s strong. She doesn’t need to be scared. If she can hold out a few more days, I’ll be right there to rescue her. That’s all. Trust in her strength like I do.” 

But the Mafia! How can you trust the boss’s words?! 

“His words. I’m a killer— through and through—and so is he. He won’t physically harm her.” 

How is that trust?! 

“Because he—? 

But how can you tell?! Please, let’s just save Momo! SERVY!! LET’S GO!!! Do you not care what happens to your best friend?! SUCK IT UP, AND LET’S GO RESCUE HER!!!!! SERVI— 

“Shut the fuck up, and fucking LISTEN TO ME!!!” Servi slammed her ID down on the ground, breaking it and her hand. “YOU SHITTY GODDESS!!!!!! MOMO’S GOING TO BE FUCKING FINE!!! THEY HAVE TO DIE FIRST!!! I HAVE TO FUCKING SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!!! AAAHAHAHAGAAAAAAHGHSHAHAAAA!!!!!!!!!!” Servi's unearthly screams exploded out of her mouth. She gripped her head with her left and used her right index finger to burrow a hole into her neck. “LET ME FUCKING TAKE IT OFF!!!! TAKE IT THE FUCK OFF!!!!!!! LETMEKILLTHEMLETMEKILLTHEMLETMEKILLTHEM!!!!!!!”  

Blood flowed in a new stream for a few seconds until Itarr had healed the wound. By that time, Servi had gone off the deep end and bashed her skull against the floor. Each slam sent chunks of skin, bone, and flesh sprawling about, but the pain did nothing to end Servi’s torment.  

Itarr panicked and didn’t know what to do. She had lost total control over Servi, and now the Goddess was simply an observer.

The distraught Human suddenly ceased her erratic self-harm and stood up. She robotically walked to the wall and sat down. Itarr attempted to say something—anything—to her beloved friend, but any attempts at communication were met with near silence. It was only when the Goddess had cleaned up the blood Servi had spilt from her own neck did Servi speak.

“They have to die… My enemies have to… I need to see them slaughtered… Why else would I not kill them if I don’t want revenge… Revenge… Revenge… Wait… Make them think it’s not coming, then strike… Leave no one alive… Tear their heads... Rip off arms... Cleave them in half... Kill them all... Make them die... Die... They all have to die...Mosie’s strong. Stronger than me. She’ll… She’ll be okay… I know it… She knows it… But they have to die… I can't face her without killing her captors...” Servi whispered in a rapid and brisk voice. Then she stood up.

With silent steps, Servi walked over to Carrie and straddled her waist. Her opened palms slowly descended on Carrie's chest, and instead of fondling her breasts, Servi ripped them away.  Then she plunged her hands into the crimson soup, splashing and playing about like a kid while causing an incalculable about of pain to the sleeping Singi. It was only thanks to the gas that Carrie stayed unmoving, even when her literal beating heart was being toyed with like a wooden figurine. 

Before life left Carrie for good, Servi healed her plaything with 200 counts of Remedium Lux. And once Carrie's body was as good as new, Servi curled her bloody fists and began to wail on her face. She punched, smacked, slammed, battered, and beat the living life out of the unconscious Singi, only stopping and healing when her nose had unnaturally bent, and her mouth was empty of teeth. To say Servi treated Carrie harshly was an understatement.  

Servi chanted, "They all have to die," as if it was her life's motto. She did it when she broke Carrie's neck with her own arm Servi had ripped off, and she did it when jabbing finger-sized holes into Carrie's head and retrieved brain matter. And still, Servi stopped just the split-second before the red-haired Singi would have passed onto the afterlife. Eventually, Servi's fun time came to an end after she reached inside Carrie's stomach and pulled out her entire ribcage. With nothing to give her chest structure, Carrie's upper body deflated like a balloon. Her heart's final beats weakly pressed against her chest as if someone pushed a rock through a layer of rubber.

All it took was a single thought, and Carrie's body was just healed to how it was before Servi had started to punish her. Then Servi simply stood up on the bed, jumped down, lifted Carrie up, replaced the mattress and sheets with new ones from her ring, and sat the sleeping Singi back down.  She was none the wiser to just how close she came to death.

"Clean the blood," Servi ordered as she walked over to the wall and sat down, leaning against it. Without replying, Itarr followed Servi's command.

---

For the next four hours, that was how the girl with a Goddess inside her soul spent the final hours of her first day of absolute revenge. Even if it meant putting Momo to the side, the Mad Dog was determined to bring ruin to the Mafia and its allies, which included all of Arcton. Servi didn’t think such a town had any right to exist because it rolled over and showed its belly to the group behind Momo’s capture.  

Itarr didn’t want to take anything Servi said at face value. Truth be told, her relationship with Servi became tremendously strained when Servi wanted to push rescuing Momo off until Saturday. In Itarr’s eyes, every second that had passed was another second they were without Momo. 

What else could Itarr do to get her soulmate to listen to her? Words obviously failed. An attempt to appeal to Servi’s emotional side wasn’t working either. Even anger and guilt didn’t work. That only brought Itarr pain in the form of Servi cursing her name while shouting at the Goddess. 

Why… Why did it all have to happen this way… Am I really nothing more than a shitty Goddess? Momo… Servi… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…  

Servi’s very own reign of terror had begun, and there was no stopping it. Conversely, Itarr fell into a deep depression, and she could only turn to herself for comfort.

After Servi’s traitorous decision, it seemed that both Human and Goddess were mentally shattered and in desperate need of love and affection. Sadly, neither would get it. At least, not while Servi had unfathomable plans to wipe out the Mafia.  

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