Chapter 10 — Massacre Demonstration
The ground no longer resembled earth.
It had become a canvas.
A grotesque painting of crushed flesh, scattered organs, and rivers of blood that merged into one thick, steaming lake beneath the dim twilight sky.
The metallic scent was suffocating.
Even the beasts that had once roamed this region avoided the place now… instinctively aware that something far more monstrous than predators had claimed it.
At the center of that crimson field—
Draven stood.
Silent.
Unmoving.
His black jade sword hung loosely in his hand, its blade so drenched that droplets slid down in slow, rhythmic falls… each drop echoing in the stillness like a ticking clock of death.
Beneath his boot—
A man wheezed.
The mercenary captain.
His chest caved inward where Draven's leg pressed down. Every breath he tried to take produced a wet, bubbling crack.
Ribs shattered.
Lungs punctured.
He tried to move… but Draven increased the pressure slightly.
A sickening crunch followed.
The captain screamed.
Around them, the surviving civilians — merchants, porters, escorts — trembled in a tight cluster. Their weapons lay discarded. Hope had left their eyes long ago.
One woman crawled forward, sobbing.
"P-Please… spare us… we'll never speak of this…"
A child clung to her arm.
Another man slammed his forehead to the blood-soaked ground repeatedly.
"We surrender! Take everything! Please!"
Draven slowly tilted his head.
His expression… calm.
Too calm.
Then—
He lifted his sword.
One clean horizontal swing.
No flourish.
No effort.
A black arc flashed across the air.
For a brief second… silence.
Then—
Heads slid from shoulders.
One by one.
Bodies remained standing… before collapsing like puppets with cut strings, splashing into the blood pool below.
The civilians hadn't even finished screaming before their voices were gone.
The mercenary captain watched it all.
His pupils trembled violently.
His lips quivered.
"You… you monster…"
He coughed blood, staining Draven's boot.
"I thought… you were just a copper rank
adventurer… Gazu… the healer… you were always so quiet…"
Draven didn't reply.
Instead—
He reached up.
And peeled off his face.
Not literally… but the illusion dissolved like smoke.
The gentle healer's features melted away… revealing cold eyes that held no humanity.
Behind him—
Three figures stepped forward from the shadows.
The swordsman.
The archer.
The mage.
But their forms flickered… then shifted.
They were the same novice adventurers the mercenary group had killed days ago.
No—
Their disguises.
The mercenary captain's breath hitched.
"You… you…!"
A1 removed his hood.
B2 lowered his bow.
C3's staff cracked against the ground as illusion magic dispersed.
Draven grinned.
Not wide.
Not exaggerated.
But enough to reveal teeth stained faintly red.
"We learn from observation," he said softly.
"We killed them."
"So we became them."
The captain's body shook.
Madness.
That was the only word his mind could process.
Draven suddenly crouched down… bringing his face inches away from the captain's.
"Fear," he whispered.
"Is the most efficient teacher."
Then—
With surgical precision—
He severed the captain's right arm.
The scream that followed echoed across the plains.
Left arm.
Both legs.
Each cut clean.
Each delivered without haste.
The captain's voice broke into animalistic shrieks.
Finally—
Draven grabbed what remained of him by the neck… lifting him like broken luggage.
"You asked why I did this."
He tilted his head toward the corpse field.
"This…"
"…is a demonstration."
And then—
He threw him.
Not tossed.
Not pushed.
Launched.
The mutilated body flew across the plains toward the distant town walls like a living projectile.
The Survivor
At the edge of the battlefield—
A child ran.
Barefoot.
Bleeding.
One eye swollen shut.
He didn't know why he'd been spared.
He only knew he had to run.
Behind him, the massacre site burned into his memory like a brand.
A1 appeared beside Draven, kneeling.
"Master. One intruder is escaping. Permit elimination."
Draven watched the child's shrinking silhouette.
Then he shook his head.
"No."
A1 paused.
Draven's smile returned… colder this time.
"Survivors of calamities…"
"…create legends."
The words carried weight.
Not mercy.
Calculation.
Fear spreads faster when someone lives to describe it.
The Return to the Bunker
Night had fallen by the time they returned.
The beasts dragged corpses tied in bundles — arms dangling, heads rolling with each step.
The bunker gates opened slowly… like the maw of an ancient beast welcoming prey.
Inside lay the Sacrificial Chamber.
A colossal circular hall lined with runic pillars carved from obsidian stone.
Draven walked to the center.
"Pile them."
The bodies were stacked into a grotesque mound — mercenaries, civilians, escorts.
Blood seeped into ritual grooves etched on the floor… but the ritual had not yet begun.
He wasn't sacrificing them.
Not yet.
He wanted preparation first.
Psychological impact above all.
Then—
A blue translucent window appeared before his eyes.
System Notification
Massacre Demonstration: Completed
Objectives Achieved:
Total intruders eliminated: 47
Civilian witnesses executed: Confirmed
Psychological terror inflicted: Extreme
Survivor trauma index: Exceptional
Rewards Granted:
Massive Experience Gain
Domain Energy Increase
Fear Resonance Amplification
Special Reward Unlocked:
Absolute Elemental Control
Bonuses:
Enhanced mastery growth within Domain
Terrain Creation Authority
Elemental Field Manipulation
Elemental Golem Creation (Locked)
Elemental Spirit Creation (Locked)
Draven's eyes gleamed faintly.
He extended his hand.
The chamber temperature dropped instantly.
Frost formed along the corpse pile.
Then—
Flames erupted from beneath it.
Ice and fire coexisted… yet did not cancel each other.
He closed his fist.
Both elements vanished.
A low chuckle escaped him.
"Useful."
Town Gate — Same Night
A guard sat lazily beside the gate, chewing on cold meat from his lunch box.
His shift had been long.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Until—
THUD.
Something slammed into the outer gate.
He frowned.
"Oi… what was that…"
He walked forward, wiping grease from his hands.
The moment he reached the gate slit…
He froze.
His lunch fell.
On the ground outside—
Lay a limbless torso.
Still breathing.
Eyes rolled back.
Chest crushed.
The guard staggered backward… then vomited violently.
The mutilated captain tried to speak—
"D… Dem…"
His voice failed.
The guard screamed and ran.
Patrol Headquarters
The guard burst inside, pale, shaking.
"C-Captain!! Gate—there's—body—outside—alive—!"
The guard captain slammed his desk.
"Compose yourself!"
But the guard's terror was contagious.
Within minutes—
The mutilated captain was brought in.
He died before finishing his report.
But he didn't need to speak.
His condition said everything.
Torture.
Precision mutilation.
Deliberate survival.
A message.
Adventurer Guild Reaction
The Guild Master stared silently at the corpse laid across the hall table.
Veteran adventurers surrounded him.
One whispered—
"This wasn't bandits."
Another muttered—
"No monster does this either…"
The Guild Master's voice was grave.
"This… was a demonstration."
He looked at the captain's crushed rib cage.
"Someone wanted us to see this."
City Lord's Emergency Council
By midnight, the City Lord convened an emergency assembly.
Present were:
Patrol Guard captain
Adventurer Guild Master
Military Strategist
Five Noble Representatives
The atmosphere was suffocating.
A cloth was lifted from the corpse.
Even hardened nobles recoiled.
One gagged.
Another shouted—
"What kind of barbarity is this ?!"
The Guild Master spoke calmly.
"This wasn't rage."
"This was calculated terror."
He described the battlefield reports from scouts who had ventured halfway before retreating in horror.
"Forty-plus bodies. Executed cleanly. Civilians included."
A noble slammed his fist.
"Why kill civilians?!"
The strategist answered quietly—
"To erase witnesses… and amplify fear."
Silence fell.
The guard captain added—
"And we have one survivor. A child."
All eyes turned.
"Bring him."
The Child's Testimony
The boy sat wrapped in blankets, trembling.
He refused food.
Refused water.
When asked what happened…
He cried.
"They… they were adventurers… then they changed… faces melted…"
"They killed everyone… even the healers…"
"Black sword… smiling man… standing on blood…"
The room chilled.
The Guild Master asked one final question.
"Did he say anything?"
The boy nodded slowly.
"He said…"
"…survivors create legends."
No one spoke after that.
Because everyone understood the implication.
This wasn't random slaughter.
This was an announcement.
Council Conclusion
The City Lord finally broke the silence.
"Assessment?"
The strategist answered:
"Unknown hostile force."
"High combat capability."
"Psychological warfare proficiency."
"Possibly establishing territory."
The Guild Master added:
"If they possess domain-type abilities…"
"…this could escalate to regional threat level."
One noble whispered—
"Should we inform the capital?"
Another replied—
"If we do… and it turns out to be minor… we lose face."
The Guild Master's eyes hardened.
"If we don't…"
"…we may lose the city."
Back to the Bunker
Far away—
Draven stood atop the bunker overlooking the dark plains.
Behind him, corpse piles awaited future ritual use.
Before him—
The town lights flickered faintly in the distance.
He raised his hand.
The ground trembled slightly.
A ridge of stone rose from the earth… then settled.
Testing his new authority.
He exhaled slowly.
"Fear has reached them."
A1 stepped beside him.
"Next phase, Master?"
Draven's eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
"We wait."
"Let panic grow."
"Let them gather forces."
His smile returned.
"Then we demonstrate again."
Below, elemental energy swirled within the domain boundaries.
The massacre had not been the climax.
It had been…
An introduction.
TO BE CONTINUED.....