My Friend Here Can Be Quite Sadistic

The Deathwalker who emerged from the Argo seemed visibly relieved upon seeing us.

"Tough crowd?" Iris arched her eyebrows, her tone laced with amusement.

"You have no idea," the Deathwalker, a man in his mid-twenties, sighed. "I'd rather take on a whole squadron of daemons than deal with those guys."

"Careful what you wish for, buddy. You might end up like a split banana," I said with a wry grin.

"Yeah, you're right," he nodded, handing us a tablet.

"This contains the list of newbies that was sent to you along with the cargo manifest. Most of it consists of high-grade morphium," he explained.

"Looks like they're gaining popularity," Iris remarked, cross-checking the list of names.

She nodded and handed back the tablet. "Yep. No stowaways. Only someone downright batshit crazy would sneak into Blood Valley."

"Also, run the cargo manifest at the reception. We're here solely for the newbies."

"I'm quite glad you two are the ones to welcome and guide them around," the Deathwalker added.

"These new guys? Kind of on the wild and snobby side, especially the nobles."

"Well, we've had our fair share of dealing with noble pricks. We'll handle it just fine," I assured him, nodding toward the carrier.

"Let's introduce them to some nice, cold, and crisp mountain air."

*******

"This is not so bad," I remarked as we faced the assembled recruits.

It was a bizarre mix of criminals, orphans, and ordinary people who had nothing in the world and volunteered to fight. Among them were nobles exuding the elegance unique to the high class.

They varied in age, with the youngest being fifteen years old and the oldest in their mid-twenties.

Youngblood, you could say. And boy, are they strong! Among them, the weakest holds the status of an intermediate C ranker, while the mightiest stands at my level, an intermediate A rank.

To put it in perspective, the weakest recruits we usually get are at the E rank. So yeah, this group is quite formidable.

Their attitudes varied significantly as well.

The criminals appeared terrified, huddling together at a considerable distance from the Shield.

I don't blame them. Criminals are the only ones beyond Blood Valley who are exposed to the true horrors of battling daemons. This revelation is intended to instill fear and discourage them from committing further crimes.

To them, becoming a Deathwalker is worse than receiving the death sentence.

The orphans, though visibly nervous, had their apprehension overshadowed by wonder and awe as they stared up at the massive Shield that loomed over everyone.

Meanwhile, the nobles maintained a stoic gaze ahead. While they had received less information than the criminals, it was enough to make them wary of the dangers.

Some, however, sported haughty expressions that practically begged for a punch.

Deep breaths, Mordred. Don't traumatize them now. Just wait for Iris to finish her welcome speech.

Wearing her brightest smile, a clear harbinger of potential danger, Iris addressed the assembly.

"Hey there! I understand not everyone's thrilled to be here, judging by the expressions of our dear crime-loving companions."

Her gaze shifted to the criminals at the back, causing even the bravest among them to flinch under her unhinged stare. 

Criminals were not just informed about daemons. They were also cautioned about Deathwalkers not to provoke. Since some Deathwalkers can be worse than daemons. And Iris is on that list.

Iris continued her welcoming speech, undeterred by the unfolding drama.

"Anyway, my partner and I welcome you all to Blood Valley and the Shield. We are here to guide you through your initiation into the Deathwalkers. This is no ordinary journey, but if you're tough enough, you might just survive the madness of Blood Valley!"

However, before she could utter another word, an audacious voice disrupted the atmosphere.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

A strong aura emanated from the speaker, bringing some of the weaker recruits to their knees.

But it barely affected me or Iris.

Stepping forward was a tall young man in a black shirt and white pants, towering over six feet.

His athletic build showcased well-defined muscles beneath the fabric. His spiky silver hair cascaded down his neck, sharp grey eyes emitting a feral and arrogant glint, and his ruggedly handsome face adorned with a scowl matched his overall demeanor.

Staring down at me and Iris, he demanded.

"Who the hell are you? Where's Sir Kay? Shouldn't he be the one welcoming us instead of two pretty-faced ladies? Do you even know who I am?"

His scowl transformed into a grin as he scrutinized us more closely.

"By the way, you two are quite the beauties," he leaned in towards Iris, his eyes shamelessly scanning her from head to toe.

"The white-haired girl is pretty, but she is flat as an iron board. But you, girly, are my type. Everything is in the right proportions. Your face is so beautiful that I wanna kiss every inch of it."

Hm. I wonder how much force is enough to break his spine?

Also, he thinks I'm a girl. Not surprised. After all, many mistake my natural breathtaking beauty for that of a woman. What can I say? I'm just that gorgeous!

I could see Iris trying hard not to burst into laughter at this guy's words, especially when he commented on me.

"The commander is currently occupied with more pressing matters and won't be engaging with absolute losers like you," maintaining her composure, she spoke.

"And thank you for the compliment, but you're a bit too repulsive for my taste. A Neanderthal would probably score higher in the handsome department than you," she added, delivering the words with a sweet smile.

Whoa. That must've stung.

The young man's smile vanished, and his face contorted in displeasure.

"What the fuck did you say, you bitch? Are you fucking with me?"

Iris cringed, "Ew. Why would I even consider that? You are uglier than a vulture's idea for a gourmet meal. I bet your reflection in the mirror apologizes for what it has to show every morning."

"Also, I'm sixteen, and you seem older than my long-dead grandma. So yeah, definitely not legal."

She continued, "Your face looks like it got in a fight with a blender and lost. I've seen better-looking roadkill."

Bruh.

Iris is on a roll!

The tall guy's face flushed red with rage and embarrassment.

"You are fucking dead, you little bitch," he growled through clenched teeth.

A chilling Bloodlust burst out from him, and his aura intensified, but Iris and I remained unfazed.

My Omni contacts scanned the guy, and I was quite impressed. Master B rank. Not bad.

Iris smirked and stepped forward, but I gestured for her to wait.

"May I?"

She raised an eyebrow, "You sure? I'm suddenly feeling bad for the guy."

I gave her a sweet smile that rivaled her own.

"Don't worry. I won't kill him."

"Yeah. Definitely feel bad for him. But go on."

"Thanks!"

I casually walked toward the

young man, unaffected by the powerful aura that brought most of the recruits to their knees.

Most of the nobles looked frantic as they tried to take in what was happening right now. The only ones looking calm were the ones who seemed to be from Axial Families and a pair of twins who looked quite bored.

Those twins must be the Frays. Interesting.

"Where the fuck are you looking at?" the growl before me turned into an irritated snarl as the young man's towering presence became more apparent.

Ah. It seems I reached the douche.

With a condescending expression, he loomed over me, his overpowering aura trying to assert dominance.

"Do you even know who I am?" he demanded with a dangerous edge in his voice.

I maintained a nonchalant demeanor, frowning slightly.

"I'm sorry. Who are you?"

His aura intensified, and his voice dropped to a barely audible level.

"Do you have a death wish?" he inquired, his threat hanging in the air.

"You have no idea who you and that bitch are messing with. By the time my associates and I are through with you, you'll be begging for death."

I sighed. Young ones these days.

"Firstly, I'm a guy," I calmly clarified.

"Huh?" The guy seemed taken aback. "What?"

"Secondly, you swear too much," I continued.

"Thirdly. Do not look down on me."

In an instant, a flash of crimson, and blood splattered on the ground as the young man abruptly fell, his legs cleanly sliced off at the knees.

It happened so swiftly that it took a minute for the screaming to start.

The other recruits quickly scattered, repulsed by the macabre sight of the young man's legs, eerily standing like tree stumps after a ruthless felling.

Blood cascaded down the once pristine white cloth of his pants, forming a gruesome pool on the snowy ground.

In reaction, a chorus of horrified reactions unfolded among the recruits, some screamed, others clamped their hands over their mouths, and a few collapsed to their knees, unable to bear the grisly spectacle.

But the loudest screams were from the now legless young man.

His screams reverberated off the cold, unyielding walls of the mountains and the imposing surface of the Shield.

His entire body trembled as he struggled to lift himself from the snowy terrain.

"It hurts! It fucking hurts! What have you done?" Desperation filled his tear-filled grey eyes as he gazed up at me, and then, with a heart-wrenching realization, he turned to look behind him at his severed legs, bizarrely still standing.

"MY LEGS! MY LEGS!" he screamed and again gazed up at me.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!"

Unfazed, I coolly assumed a seated position.

"This is a better vantage point," I stated, casually resting on my haunches.

"Fourthly," I seized his long silver hair, compelling him to meet my gaze, "Learn some bloody manners."

My lips curled into an unhinged grin, and I quickly slammed his face into the ground, pulverizing the tarmac beneath.

"And fifthly," I yanked back his hair and administered another merciless strike.

"Do not."

With each brutal impact, the cold tarmac disintegrated further, echoing the sickening crunch of breaking bones.

"Insult."

The subsequent collision sent blood spraying across my pristine white turtleneck.

"My."

This time, several blood-stained teeth were expelled in the process.

"Mother."

A final and powerful slam obliterated the remaining shards of tarmac, leaving a grotesque aftermath of splattered blood in its wake.

I yanked his hair back, surveying the aftermath of my handiwork.

"My. Now you resemble a Neanderthal. Handsome."

Despite the bloodied mess that used to be his face, he managed to maintain a semblance of composure, a testament to his resilience as a B-ranker.

Mildly impressed, I acknowledged his resilience. A B-ranker, indeed.

His breaths came ragged, each cough releasing more blood. Despite the grim situation, he locked his once-gray eyes, now obscured with blood, onto mine.

In a grotesque display, he offered a defiant smile and spat a mouthful of blood onto my face.

"You are fucked," he rasped, "I am Sean Blackwood of the Blackwood Axial Family. My family has ties with the Royal Pendragons. Say goodbye to your life, you vicious son of a bitch!"

I stared at him, bemused by his audacity, and sighed, "What did I say about insulting my mother?"

"And close ties with the Royal Family? I'm sorry, I didn't know that," I leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

"I've lived my whole life in the Dawn Palace, so I had no idea. And I don't care."

His eyes widened in disbelief and horror, "The Dawn Palace?" he stammered, "You mean you are?"

I gave him a sweet smile and slammed his face repeatedly into the shattered tarmac.

"Yes! I am the second High Prince! Mordred Pendragon!"

I cackled, and my insane laughter echoed all over the valley.

*******

Iris watched Mordred laughing as he mercilessly slammed the young man's face repeatedly into the broken tarmac.

"I shouldn't have let him do that," she sighed at the shocked expressions etched on the faces of the other recruits.

Even those who prided themselves on composure were unable to mask their horror and disbelief.

She sighed again and smiled.

"Sorry about that. My friend can be quite sadistic."