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The Keeper of Unholy Might

Nicolaus Asenon had a detached feeling and drifted through life aimlessly. Everything he had done had no purpose. He had sacrificed everything else in his life. In his darkest hours. He was struck by a vehicle and died. He had transmigrated from the modern world to an alternative world. With no remorse, Nicolaus Asenon is willing to go to any lengths to reap benefits. He has now seen all that life has to offer, transforming him into a cold, merciless, cunning villain, never allowing himself to get attached to anybody who may get in the way of his ultimate goal. From now on. He doesn't care what he had to do to win. He doesn't care what he had to sacrifice. In this world winning is everything, and in the end, he's going to win. This is the story of a man cultivating his strength to rise up above all... A Lord overlooking the entire world! ................................................. WPC #194 Gold Prize Artwork: Castlevania

BlindBandit · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
21 Chs

Fierce anger erupts Boarfang's murderous intent

"Isn't that the same youngster who died only a few hours ago? How did he end up here?"

"Didn't I tell you?! We should all be wary of him; the alleged dead youngster has come back to life! He will bring us all to our doom!"

"Silver-haired! It is, in fact, that small boy... As a matter of fact, I've witnessed it firsthand. He has been kill-"

"Boy, keep your mouth shut! Make sure you don't say anything ridiculous or I'll beat you to death," A young kid was scolded by a middle-aged mother dressed in fur clothing, smacking him hard in the head as he was dragged into her dwelling by his ears, which were beginning to turn pink.

After a time, the young kid grew fearful and didn't fight back, although his hurried claim of his innocence and naivety. After everything was said and done, he seemed to realize her mother was still fuming and begged for leniency, "Please don't tell father..." he pleaded.

As soon as the door closed, the young kid got a taste of what the adage meant: no one would think you're mute just because you don't say anything! To put it another way, if you're going to talk about something crappy, it's better if you don't talk about it.

While pondering about what he could do in this circumstance as a 5-year-old with silver hair, Nicolaus simply gave a cold look to the persistent burning induced by the accursed mark that had been seared into his soul.

In the process of carefully stroking it and poking it. The discomfort that is constantly released every once in a while becomes more noticeable.

Nicolaus was undergoing minimal interludes in his heartbeat, which indicated that he was in a state of stupor. In spite of this, Nicolaus did not show any signs of anxiety, instead, he maintained a cold look on his face.

If he had survived the searing of his accursed mark on his soul. Then, how could minor throbbings of burning let him have lapses of emotions on his face?

…..

A few minutes earlier, after his arrival at his house, a burly man in a black fur coat sat on a stone bench, his heart steeled as he tried to console his wife, who was weeping excessively at the time.

Even though he was oblivious of what had transpired. Boarfang couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse for his actions. He had been on a hunting expedition with the Hunting Chieftain at the time of his adoptive son's death.

Based on the fact that when you're out hunting, you'll be in a state of viciousness since you'll constantly be on the alert for any hints of ambushes or assaults that may come at any moment, Boarfang was still not in the finest of moods when he returned.

In the moments after he heard that his adoptive son had died, he felt an intense surge of rage coursing through his veins and rushing towards his brain. In an instant, the urge to kill erupted, forcing his pupils to dilate and his eyes to become bloodshot. He had already hoisted his battle axe over his waist and displayed it in all its glory. His battle axe, when sharpened to its peak output, has the ability to instantly split a human in two, even if it is held by a mortal man.

Whenever the light hits his battle axe, it gleamed fiercely, and his murderous aura rapidly extended over the surrounding area, leading his tribal warriors to tremble in dread as they tried to calm Boarfang down.

Once the tribal warriors witnessed him wield that massive battle axe in the middle of the hunt. They couldn't shake the feeling that heads would come tumbling down, bodies splattered, and death would appear in an instant. After all, Boarfang is one of the tribe's finest adept warriors, and no average tribesman could possibly stand in his road of slaughter.

After telling Boarfang of the bad news, the tribe member who opened the gate immediately lowered his head and sank on his knees in a state of complete surrender. It was impossible for him not to pee a little when he saw Boarfang's murderous aura, which caused him to feel utterly frightened.

After blabbered some gibberish to save his life, the tribe member nearly choked on his words as the vicious beast in front of him offered him an ultimatum that he couldn't refuse.

"Bring…. The murderer here... And I'll let you live." Through his anger, Boarfang observed the large gate beside him, which was constructed of huge logs as thick as a barrel. With a single movement, he grasped the gate forcefully, causing a major piece to be removed.