Village Head's Debauchery

Chapter 1045: Plotting A Rebellion



"Three of you will accompany me to rescue the captives. The remaining four will split into pairs and apprehend every member of these two households. Kill anyone who resists. However, wait for the signal before taking action. You will stay here and monitor the situation from above," Orion instructed with a nod. "Remember, this is your chance to demonstrate your strength to the Runaway Cities and their forces. Don't tarnish Paradise's reputation."

"Understood, Chief," they replied in unison.

Orion nodded and then focused on one of the warriors supporting a battered and injured Dragmin. "Lead the way," Orion commanded. "If you guide us to the wrong location, I promise you a torment so severe that you'll beg for death-yet it will never come." His eyes bore into the trembling gods' chosen, who nodded in fearful agreement.

"Good. Let's begin," Orion said.

In a dimly lit hall, numerous enchanted cells lined the walls, each holding individuals of all ages, chained and battered. These were the Dragmins kidnapped from the residential areas of the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City, now imprisoned in this gloomy hall.

At the hall's centre lay a vast rune pulsating with a sinister red glow. The rune was surrounded by large circles, within which Dragmin gods' chosens meditated, submerged in a pool of shimmering dark red blood that flowed toward them through the runes from the centre.

The rune inscribed on the ground occupied a significant portion of the hall's open space, casting an eerie crimson light that bathed its entirety. The only other illumination came from the enchanted lanterns, faintly glowing and scattered throughout the hall, adding to the ominous atmosphere.

"What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be protecting the denizens of the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City, not using them for your own selfish purposes?" shouted a man, his voice strained by the fresh wounds that marred his body and the chains that bound him to the ground.

"Let us go, or you'll regret this when the leaders and other nobles discover what you're doing!" a woman's voice echoed, her chains clinking as she moved.

"So, you're the ones behind this? You blame Paradise for everything?" another voice shouted from the cells. "Hasn't the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City already fallen? You'll be banished from the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City and left to fend against an endless surge of Vylkr vines when this is revealed!"

"What kind of ritual requires so many Dragmins? Don't tell me you're planning a calamity, trying to drag the entire Trekking Flamingo Runaway City down with you!" another voice screamed from one of the six cells, filled with anger and despair. "Do you have no heart?"

They were all Dragmins who had recently been captured. As they awoke from their unconscious state and took in the grim scene around them, the truth began to sink in: Paradise was not responsible for their disappearance.

Instead, it was the nobles who had orchestrated these heinous acts. The realization fueled their anger and hatred. They hurled curses and threats, desperate for their captors to grasp the gravity of their actions and free them.

But their pleas fell on deaf ears.

"They're always so loud, thinking someone will come to their rescue," a tall, imposing Dragmin remarked with a sneer. His broad, leathery wings stretched behind him, and he wore a brown, scaly tunic adorned with an insignia of a dragon coiled around a miniature horn. His presence radiated an aura of elegance and nobility. "They don't seem to understand that we've been given the freedom to act as we see fit. We are the ones who will liberate the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City from the crisis we've found ourselves in."

"It seems they're finished, Father. Shall I bring in the next batch?" the man asked, glancing at the three lifeless corpses at the centre of the rune circle. His attention then shifted to the even more imposing Dragmin beside him, whose scales were thicker and whose skin had a deeper, bronze-like hue. Dressed in a dark red tunic embroiled in golden threads, this Dragmin had folded leathery wings and a similar insignia on his back.

"Go ahead. Make it four this time," the man responded, echoing through the hall and silencing the previously clamorous noise.

The man nodded, with a smile revealing his jagged, sharp teeth. He signalled to the two gods' chosens standing nearby.

They returned his nod and moved towards one of the cells to execute the orders. Hearing the grim details of the conversation, the prisoners realized their pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and their deaths were imminent. As the gods' chosens approached their cells, the captives began to beg desperately for their lives.

"Please, let us go! We've done nothing wrong!" a man shouted from one of the cells, his hands futilely tugging at his chains in a vain attempt to break free.

"Have mercy, set us free!" another voice pleaded-a woman's trembling with fear. "You shouldn't be doing this! Will you ever be able to sleep soundly after what you've done?" The gods' chosens, unbothered by the cries and pleas, opened the cell doors and stepped inside. Though they did not relish the suffering of their captives, they viewed this as a necessary step toward their ultimate goal: breaking free from Paradise's control and advancing to a Grade Two Runaway City. They clung to this brutal method with no viable alternatives as their only path forward.

The gods' chosens removed the chains from an older man and three younger men, dragging them toward the centre of the engraved rune. They pulled the three corpses outside the rune, then forced the three men to their knees before drawing daggers from their sides.

"WAIT! PLEASE DON'T-"

Before they could utter another word of plea, the daggers sliced through their throats, severing their heads from their bodies. The heads were flung to the ground, their lifeless bodies collapsing in a gruesome heap.

Blood poured from the necks, pooling onto the runes below. As if possessed, the shimmering dark red liquid surged through the engraved patterns and toward the gods' chosens seated around the rune's edge.