Chapter 1. Revenge of the Righteous

In a large hall within an ancient castle, a man was sitting on a stone throne. Beside him were two women with minimum clothing, one young, one middle-aged, and both beauties. The two women had one of their hands chained to the stone throne. The two women's faces showed both terror and intense hate for the man on the throne.

The man was sitting leisurely. He was wearing a military uniform with camouflage stripes. The uniform wrapped tightly around his body due to his unusually large frame and muscular build.

His head was bare of hair, even his eyebrow was devoid. His eyes had a cold gaze despite the apparent smile on his face, a face that displayed hardened features tempered by the vicissitudes of life. There was a long scar on the left side of his cheek, a relic of a wound that had failed to heal with time.

In his hand was a glass of wine. He sipped the wine as he listened to the orchestra outside, a cacophony of explosions and gunfires. The hall would sometimes shake following the explosions. He wondered how many of his underlings were remaining outside?

The sound of the battle soon became less. He knew that one side was already winning. Which side was it? Was it the group of righteous warriors who banded together to avenge the evil deeds he had committed? Or his battle-hardened and equally immoral soldiers? He could not wait to find out.

He heard footsteps. Showtime! Would it be another big disappointment? Or, finally, a worthy attempt on his life?

The large double doors of the hall were pushed open. They were very heavy doors, thus they opened slowly. The body of the man on the throne tilted forward with anticipation.

Several men and women mostly in civilian attire rushed in, each of them holding a firearm.

"Hahaha!" The man on the throne laughed heartily at the sight.

"Amoonnnn…!! Today will be the day of retribution! Your evil acts end today!" A young man in the lead yelled when he laid eyes on the man on the throne.

The men and women who had entered the hall simultaneously aimed their weapons at the man on the throne. The man who was called Amon made a quick count on the invading troops. There were eighteen of them, fifteen men and three women. Only two of them he needed to be concerned about. Seven others showed decent experience. The rest were just amateurs. He could identify these sheep from their movements and postures in a single glance.

He grabbed the young girl beside him and positioned her in front of him. He unlocked the chain on her hand, as he rose and walked forward, the girl was placed at his front. The mob could not find a clear shot.

"That should be General Amon to you," Amon said. "Didn't I teach you that already, Simon? When I burned your village to the ground. Killed your father and brother in front of you, and took your mother and sister away. I have many a pleasant night with them, your mother, and your sister who stood before me here."

The leader of the group, eyes red with fury, gritted his teeth and said, "you should have killed me then."

"Ahahaha! Many of my men asked me why I did not do just that. Why do I always leave someone alive? Wouldn't that just leave seed for a rebellion? And my answer to them is always the same. Where is the fun if you don't have an adversary? Hahaha."

"You sick bastard!" A woman beside Simon spat.

"Probably, but it was due to me that the world is no longer boring."

"Boring? It was called peace, you sick fuck!" Another man yelled. He was a grizzled old man in an army uniform. "You have plunged the world into never-ending wars. Creating misery everywhere. You could have conquered the world long ago. But instead, you intentionally prolonged all the fights. For what? For your entertainment?"

"Don't we all live for entertainment?" Amon replied with a smiling face. "I've been waiting for you, Simon. I hope you don't disappoint me like the rest. If you do, all of you will die here today and I will have to find another plaything elsewhere."

As he finished his sentence, he took out the handgun on his waist and shot the head of the woman he was holding. Her head opened up like a watermelon getting squashed.

"Nooo!!! Jessica…!!" Simon yelled.

The middle-aged woman who was still chained to the throne screamed hysterically at the sight.

The invading men and women were stunned by Amon's display of ruthlessness. Amon took that opportunity to fire two quick shots, both scored headshots on two of the men. He dashed to the row of huge pillars that lined both sides of the hall. He jumped and rolled to the back of one of these pillars as the mob started firing.

The pillar took the brunt of the firepower. Its surface shattered in many parts, but the pillar continued to stand otherwise. It was large enough to sustain numerous gunshots.

Amon wore a wide smile as he hid behind the pillar. He waited until the gunshots paused. He then utilized the reflective surfaces on the wall skirting to detect one person approaching his pillar. His hand came out of the pillar and made two quick shots without looking. The shots hit the person's body.

As that person fell, another round of gunshots was fired at his pillar. He unlatched one of the grenades on his belt and threw it out.

Simon immediately identified the thrown grenade. He shouted warning to the others as he closed his eyes and turned away, "Flashbang! Look away!!"

The stun grenade exploded into a blinding light, accompanied by a deafening loud bang. Half of the mob was affected by it, while the other half managed to turn away thanks to Simon's warning. Still, their ears rang and hurt like hell.

Simon opened his eyes and turned back ready to open fire. In the air in front of him was another identical stun grenade.

'Fuck!' He cursed in his mind before the second flashbang exploded.

None were spared from the blinding light this time.

Cries of pain and flesh-tearing were heard soon. Several gunshots were fired not long after. The cries didn't stop.

Simon took a few steps back while in a blind condition. He refrained from firing, he might hit his own team if he opened fire carelessly. He could hear, however, that a lot on his team were in a panic, as the sounds of gunfire increased in intensity as time passed. The cries never stopped.

Simon decided to drop to the floor on his stomach, trying to avoid becoming a victim of friendly fire.

The blinding effect of the stun grenade lasted only five seconds, but to Simon, it felt like an eternity.

When his eyes finally could see something, he saw something or someone wriggling in front of him. The gunfire had stopped. He quickly rose to his feet as his vision returned. He could now see. It was Amon at the front, holding a large combat knife that was stabbing into a man's throat. The man gasped as blood poured out of his mouth. Amon pulled the knife and blood gushed out from the open wound.

Amon looked at Simon. His face was smiling, but his cold eyes caused Simon to shiver. The memory of the time when this demon came into his village and his house, slaughtering everyone and ruining his lives, came back.

Simon yelled to summon his courage as he lifted his automatic rifle. But he never had the chance to open fire. Amon made a swift shot at his arm. His arm exploded into a gory mess as his rifle fell from his grip.

Amon approached as he lifted his combat knife, ready to attack. A gunshot was heard. It hit the combat knife and caused Amon to lose grasp of it. It flew far away to the back.

Simon turned around and saw it was the grizzled old man, half-kneeling with a gunshot wound on his stomach. He was about to thank him when a hole suddenly appeared on his brow. Amon had given him a headshot.

Simon looked around and found out all the men and women he brought had died. He turned back to find Amon's smiling face in front of him. He instinctively backed away but Amon's hand shot out and grabbed his neck. He tried to struggle free but the hand felt like it was made of iron, not flesh.

Amon lifted his pistol and showed Simon the muzzle of his gun.

Was this how it ended? Simon thought in his mind. He was unwilling. How could heaven let this demon keep on winning?

Then Amon threw away his gun. Simon was puzzled at first but then Amon's other hand tightened at his neck.

"I like to squeeze the life of my target out," Amon said to him. "In the end, you are also a disappointment."

Amon saw Simon's gaze go to his back, his ears also picked up faint rapid footsteps as his sense of danger escalated. He immediately realized someone was approaching from behind. He was about to turn back but Simon grabbed him with all his strength at the moment.

Amon soon felt something sharp penetrate his neck. His hands which tightened around Simon's neck clamped up and broke the neck. The sharp thing stabbed at his neck again. He glanced back and saw that the sharp thing was his combat knife, the one holding it was Simon's mother. One of her hands was missing. She had used the combat knife which fell nearby her to cut off her own hand which was chained.

The combat knife stabbed for the third time. Amon finally succumbed. He fell on his back as the hysterical woman kept on stabbing his neck. Amon maintained his smile upon death.

'So this is how it ends. Righteousness finally prevails. Hehe, it has been fun. Will there be hell? I certainly hope so. It would be too boring otherwise.'

Darkness took over his consciousness.

He did not know how long he was in darkness, but light soon engulfed his whole being. He heard noises and he found out that he could open his eyes. It was blurry at first but soon things became clearer. He was outdoor, he saw the leaves of trees above. Several gigantic men and women were around him, looking down at him with curiosity.

He tried to get up but his body was not able to. He looked at his own hands, they were so small. He then realized that he was in the body of a baby.

'I have been reborn?' Amon thought with astonishment.