Truth of Intent

Taking notice of the special attention I held towards this guard, Loki chuckled, hooking his arm over my neck as though we were best buds, " You swing that way now?"

"Bring his family before me, all nine generations."

"Arsene?" Loki responded in a questioning manner as his mischievous eyes took on a darker shade. He hummed, shaking his head, "Fine, I'll deliver them to you after your match. But you might attract a lot of attention."

"More so with a name like mine? 'I like little boys? Really? You couldn't have come up with something more friendly?"

"Where's the fun in that," He replied with a shrug as we began to head up a few more levels, where a small gathering of slaves gripping weapons stood. Their heads were all down, but I could tell it was more to focus their mind than it was to wallow in depression.

I could hear the roar of the crowds just past the wooden gates, metal clanging against one another, and the slow sound of blades cutting through flesh.

Listening alongside the crowd that seemed like a myriad of emotions spinning out of control before finally exploding in a symphony of cheers, I slid my lifeless gaze to Loki.

"Who's next?" A weak, somewhat harsh voice asked.

Loki muttered a few words I couldn't quite make out before tapping my shoulders, " Your weapon."

Standing close to the weapon rack, I surveyed the weapons, only to notice the Announcer begin, "You've seen it all, ladies and Gentlemen. Thant, the Cleaver has just ripped out the spine of his enemies," He said, as a wave of cheers resounded, " But now, you must bear witness to the foulest of men. Ladies, lock up your kids, for in the night lives a beast!"

"He didn't make it," A soft, pained voice of one of the slaves muttered.

Picking up a simple double-edge sword, I flicked the tip listening to the ring of the metal purr as the Announcer continued, the moment the gate opened up, "Allow me to welcome child molester, I LIKE LITTLE BOOOOOOYS!!!!!!"

Chuckling a little at the stupid name that was introduced so blatantly, a wave of boos followed the Announcer, one of them being Loki, who was dying in laughter.

"You're an ass," I said, pushing out with a thin smile as the scent of blood hit me like a truck.

Making it to the top of the stadium, I glanced at the body of the spineless loser and the somewhat injured champion. Who was as big as a Giant that stood almost seven meters tall, covered in muscles larger than my arm; I could not help but be impressed.

But it left me with a single question.

"Can you even have sex with ordinary size people? I feel it's similar to the hulk going to town on an ordinary woman."

"The shit talking has already begun!" The Announcer shouted as bits of laughter sounded.

This dude looks like the health inspector!

"You've got a mouth on, you child rapist!"

"KILL HIM!!!! THANT KILL HIM!"

"RIP HIS SPINE OUT!"

"SHIT ON HIS FACE!!!!!"

"WRECK HIS BOOTY!!!"

Pause!

Clearing my throat, I studied the Low God, whose body I could feel was actually around Heavenly God. It wasn't a bad combination. If he was born in the abyss instead of the Bed of Chaos, I am sure his combat prowess is exceptionally high. A shame he has to die. He would make a nice Shadowfell.

Sadly, if I'm going to turn anyone, it's going to be Ezra. Belphegor was right; I am only using the basics of Sloth. A real practitioner of such a sin is never at rest. They sacrifice themselves so that their Sloth will spread. If Belphegor can create technology to advance civilization, making them more complacent or lazy, why can't I make a race to do the same?"

But tricking Ezra will be tricky; if I fail, she'll have no more use for me, and I'll have to rid myself of the liability. I'll even make a game out of everything to get Asmo and Levi to believe they died under the orders of Zantar, or Balor, who was following the order of some higher being.

I should set that up now. Loki has given me the perfect location, and Mephisto the perfect disguise. The only thing that should allow them to know I killed her would be my ego. I need to handle the bodies of the guardsman whose nine generations I need to kill perfectly.

"But let's not waste any more time! Ready your Blades, GLADIATORS!!!!"

Hmmm, preparation is critical! I need the right persona for this job. A big ego is too close to Arsene; I need something like an icy god, a reserved man who would cut down just about anyone or anything.

Thant lifted his bastard sword that stood the size of my body, and his muscles bulged. His tan skin seemed to darken, as runes I'd not seen since Midgard began to appear over his skin. And for some reason, I could feel a superior blessing ripple out.

Two runes filled my eyes, as I could not risk them appearing in the air to notify anyone who had ever seen my sigil before. Lifting my sword, I shot the man a measuring stare and beckoned.

"FIGHT!!!!"

Come

Dashing off his feet, shattering the earth beneath, a bolt of black lightning flashed over his flesh as his blade whipped towards my neck. Cutting through the illusion, I'd created the moment I had beckoned to him.

Everyone believed that since they were gods, they did not have any of the weaknesses of most mortals, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. If one is too weak to meditate, they must sleep; if they are without qi, they must eat. We, cultivators, are just glorified mortals. If we are cut, we bleed.

In one of the books Bael had given me, he mentioned a text by Zariel regarding the concept of intent that read, " There is no greater power in a battle or in life than the power of intent."

A true master of intent could cut through someone's head, and they still live without a single injury.

These Masters are usually reserved for control type, but a Paragon must also be able to master the fundamentals. It is intent that allows me to move, what allows the abyss to think or even speak. Even concepts hold intent. It's a single intent, but it's one nonetheless.

I do not intend to simply master the concept of intent but evolve it like Zariel did when he created the Path of Paragon. I know I'd never be as skilled as him, but I feel there's a path for everyone regarding intent.

Pulling into myself, the Heaven and Earth of the Abyss that had been more active around me as of late, sensing my intent from deep within me, turned the sunny skies a deep grey, bringing about a cold that seemed sharper than any blade.

My sword slashed out in a horizontal stroke cutting through the spine of the low god the moment his blade met with my illusion.

"Your, my disciple Arsene Snow, and I am the reason that all the Myriad Heavens Exist!" Mephisto sounded, "It's by my will and experiments that everything exists. Maybe father may have embellished me a bit, but I am why all the lower Heavens were made. There is a reason you started learning the Dao of Illusions and stopped. But I suggest you resume your training."