“My mom would always say that no one is evil. That all the pain and heartbreak in this world was because a few unfortunate people were never able to get the help they needed. She believed, deep down within, that there was good in everyone: even the vilest of scum could changet. And sometimes, all it took was a little kindness to set them down on the right path.
“And then there’s Libevich. Hells, that woman… I can’t even mention her name without getting goosebumps. Her very existence is proof that there are some people that just can’t be fixed; that old bastard Xeros looks like a saint compared to her.
“My mother tried, she really did try to straighten her out. But there’s no use curing what’s already rotten to the core. Even as a kid, I knew at first sight that something was off about her. Libevich was terrifying, erratic, as if at any moment she’d lunge at someone and rip out their throat: all because she was just in the mood to do so. A passing whim. Nothing more.
“She has to die; it’s as simple as that. The world can never be a better place for as long as she’s here, but I… argh, damnit! I can’t kill her. No one can kill her. If there was a way, I’d even grit my teeth and join hands with Xeros if it meant putting an end to her for good. But, it’s no use. That woman will live on until the end of time. She’s the very embodiment of evil.”
- Praetor Luxanne
———
High above the city of Caligos Imperium, beyond the sickly cloud of smog, there lies a charming little borough of sunshine and fresh air. Here, in this sanctuary called Erudite, there are no grimy roads: no buildings slathered in muck or oil. No, this is an immaculate place, one where every corner flourishes in green. Grass, trees, bushes and leaves… such nature that can never be found in the lower layers.
It is within this unsullied realm, hidden in a private garden far from prying eyes, that a lone woman lays collapsed on the floor.
Contrary to the beauty and innocence about, the woman can only be described as a menacing, sinister creature. Her body swells with power, muscles bursting forth and gleaming with an ominous sheen, while her veins jut out and travel all along her neck, through her arms, and leading to the rugged palms of her hands.
She cares not for outward appearances, letting her short, inky hair to lazily stick out in messy strands, but to the side is a patch of grey that resembles a crescent moon. It veils half of her face in shadow, hiding the depravity writ upon her ghostly skin.
Unlike the typical legionary, she chooses to forsake armor and instead dons a comfortable leather coat, sturdy boots, and a black robe. At first glance one would never think her to belong to the Grand General’s forces, and in a way they are correct. She is not a soldier of Caelum, but a warrior—a free soul that beholds only her own fancies.
Yet here she is, rotting. It’s a lovely day outside, but the woman feels only one thing towards this peace.
Boredom.
“Hrm…” she grumbles, crudely scratching at her stomach. “I’m going to strangle old raven boy’s neck when he returns.”
The woman throws her head back and looks up at the cloudless sky. It’s blue and so very bright, but her grey eyes remain devoid of emotion: no spark. No soul. Utterly hollow.
“Oh, how pretty!” she yelps, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Pretty flowers, gorgeous architecture, and even the streets have this dazzling sheen to it… what a disgusting sight. It’s revolting. Deary me, I’m going to go mad if I have to reside in Xeros’s little playground any longer.”
She sighs and curls up into a ball, rocking back and forth like a newborn babe. It is a most jarring sight; fortunately for her, there is no one else around to witness her childish behavior.
Except there is. There is, in fact, one person standing not so far away—a young man, dull and of average appearance. He is but one of the many legionnaires that make up the Grand General’s army, and it is on this day that he has been burdened with a most lamentable task: serving as this burly woman’s attendant.
The man shakes his head at the vulgar display, but nonetheless he remains silent. Nothing good comes to those who dare speak out in the presence of Libevich the Manslayer.
No, he merely watches on as she descends further and further into a hysterical fit. “I shouldn’t be here!” she wails. “Ugh, I need—I need to feel pain, to inflict fear, to ride out onto the battlefield and slaughter to my heart’s content! I… oh, this world is ever so dreary without you, Lorelai.”
She covers her face and breaks into tears, pathetically sobbing in loud bouts of snarls and ugly whimpers. “Lorelai, my dear, sweet Lorelai, why did you abandon me? Did those days of us passionately locked in combat mean nothing to you? Your blades slicing into my flesh, my fist crushing into your armor… our lives were perfect. Our song of blood and fury should have echoed for all of eternity, but you tossed me aside. You chose to embrace a warrior’s death with Gravitas instead of me.”
Libevich raises her fist and pounds the ground with the full weight of her body, causing the entire district to rumble as her impact pulverizes through the false earth and sends a tremor surging all the way to the lower level.
But despite her violence, the man is unbothered. This is the third time she’s done this.
“And you, Gravitas… you despicable scamp,” she says with a growl. “I believed us to be kindred souls: both devoted to the purity of battle. But to think you would selfishly take what belongs to me. Would it really have been so difficult to take this old woman along with you? I…”
But before she can weep any more, her attendant walks over and awkwardly offers a handkerchief. “Um, please take this Commander Libevich.”
She swipes it in an instant and crudely blows her nose into the cloth. “Oh, how dearly kind of you. I was just about to wring your neck and soak myself in your blood to calm this aching heart of mine, but I’m glad I chose not to.”
“… Pleasure to be of service?” he replies, unsure if her words are a joke or a threat.
Libevich lets out a hearty laugh and smacks his back. Unbeknownst to her, the man is much weaker than she has thought, and his face goes flying straight to the floor.
“Oh, lighten up boy. I’m just messing with you. No, I would need many, many more bodies to tear apart if I were truly in the mood.”
“H-Haha, quite the humorous prank, madam,” the man stutters, body still shaking as he rises back up.
His figure is unseemly, and Libevich tuts in disapproval as she bemoans the current state of the army. “You really must work on your body, boy. To think a light tap from this old woman would send you reeling so easily… back in my day, you soldiers were made of sterner stuff, but I swear those ugly suits have caused everyone to lose their damn minds.”
She has never understood why Xeros orders his pawns to wear those hideous little things: machines, exoskeletons, drugs… weak, the lot of them. Weak are the ones who rely on such bores to gain strength. True power lies naught in soulless contraptions of steel, but in one’s own flesh and blood.
“Xeros is such a fool,” she says aloud. “Where’s the fun in killing if your mind’s too impaired to enjoy it? Tsk tsk, the little runt never did have a warrior’s spirit. No, he’s cunning and cautious—like a rat.”
The attendant jumps back in shock, for such words are more than enough to lead to one’s execution.
“Uh, pardon me, but I don’t think you should say that out in the open, madam.”
But the woman boldly laughs in his face. “Fufu, nevermind that, boy. I’ve known Xeros since he was a child. He can’t do anything to me, although it would be interesting to see him try. At the very least, I’d have an excuse to punish him for sending me to deal with those tedious Astrologians.”
Her face darkens upon recounting the memory, and Libevich looks around for anything that might help serve as a distraction.
She finds a rock. She picks up the rock. It is a good rock.
“Complete boors, those Augurium folks,” she says, attention entirely occupied with her new, mundane toy. “If you get close, they scamper off like cowards. If you back away, they annoy you with spells from afar. Back and forth and back and forth—I’m getting angry just thinking about it. Those fickle little bastards…”
Much to her dismay, she loses control and grinds the rock into a thin dust. Oh, the tragedy.
“Hah… do you see what Xeros has reduced me to? Look at this old gal, crushing stones instead of skulls. I should be out there, slaying men, yet here I am stuck waiting for that rascal to come back as if I’m a mutt waiting for its master.
“Maybe I really should punish Xeros. Yes, that’s a great idea! I’ll give him a nice spanking, just like the good ol’ days.”
The attendant does not know how to react, so he doesn’t. Perhaps it’s for the best to give up on understanding her eccentricity.
“Well, you won’t have to wait for long,” he says. “The Grand General is expected to arrive tomorrow from his voyage to the Steppe.”
“Oya? Finally, some good news!” she chuckles, jumping up with the vigor of a woman one-fifth her age. “Nevermind that grumpy little crow, I’m so excited to see my darling Luxanne again! It’s been quite some time since our last meeting. I don’t know why that girl avoids me; I’m her godmother you see, but she treats me like I’m some sort of stranger. Can you believe it? I held her when she was still in diapers, and yet even now she refuses to look me in the eye! Must be another one of those rebellious phases again.”
“Rebellious phase?” the attendant says, confused. “Praetor Luxanne is thirty-three.”
“Bah, thirteen, thirty-three… it’s all the same when you get to be my age. Everyone’s just a young chick; that includes you, boy.”
“I see. Forgive my ignorance.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Nonsense my dear, there’s nothing to forgive. Although…” she sizes him up, squinting her eyes as the man nervously fidgets in place. “Yes, you’ll do nicely. Come on boy, let’s go on a shopping spree!”
“I’m sorry?” He smacks his ears just in case something’s wrong with his hearing, but no—Libevich is completely serious. “You want to go shopping?”
“Why, for Luxanne’s gift of course!” she says, taking pride in her own genius. “There’s nothing that opens a young girl’s heart more than a thoughtful gift. You are a member of her division, are you not? Surely you have some idea of what would make her happy.”
“Um, I apologize, but that would be a bit difficult. Praetor Luxanne often keeps to herself except for the moments when she comes to inspect our training.”
“Is that so? I see…”
Libevich quickly becomes crestfallen, lips pouting and eyes gazing listlessly at the ground. And despite all the attendant has seen of her today, he starts to feel a little guilty.
“However,” he begins, to which she raises a hopeful brow in response. “I have heard - and these are rumors mind you - that the Praetor is rather fond of necklaces, though I’ve personally never seen her wear one myself.”
“Necklaces you say?” Libevich rubs her chin, and soon, her expression brightens as she returns to her brash and terrifyingly unpredictable self of before. “Ah, that must be because of her mother. Luxmi always was fond of spoiling the girl; she would hand-make a necklace every year for her birthday. I found them to be quite ugly myself, but a mother’s love shines more brilliantly than any gemstone.
“Ah, Luxmi… she was a wonderful warrior. It’s a shame how everything turned out in the end, a real shame indeed.”
The attendant nods. “May she rest in peace. It was a dark time for us all the day the sickness took hold of her.”
“Oh, is that what they tell you?”
“Pardon?”
“Oop, nevermind that. Just think of it as the rambling of an old woman.”
He feels as if he’s just heard something very, very dangerous, but it’s best not to pry any further. Two more years of service and he’ll be granted a home in the Proletariat; to die here would be far too cruel a joke.
However, while he attempts to take his mind off the commander’s words, Libevich suddenly seizes him by the leg and hoists him over her shoulders.
“F-Forgive me, madam! I promise not to tell a soul!” he shouts, trembling in fear as she manhandles him like one would a sack.
But all his pleas beget is a right-roaring cackle. “Now what’re you yelping about now? Settle down, this is for your own good. With those scrawny legs it’ll take all day before we make it to the square; we’ll be going on a little shortcut.”
The attendant has not a chance to protest before Libevich crouches down, tenses her muscles, and leaps high, higher, and higher still into the air. The two soar past the clouds until they’re surrounded by an endless expanse of blue: and down below, the entire Erudite can be seen in all its majesty. The man is left breathless at the sight, but his wonder soon changes into horror.
For what goes up must come down.
Soon, the two begin to drop, and they quickly gain speed—hurtling faster and faster until the wind shrieks around them like a ghastly whistle. Libevich makes no attempt to slow down; on the contrary, she straightens her body in an effort to hasten the descent. It’s all a game to her, a game to reach her destination in the shortest time possible.
No matter the destruction that shall follow.
“MADAM LIBEVICH!” the attendant screams at the top of his lungs. “The district square is still filled with people! If you land now, then they will—”
“Bah, they’ll be fine,” she says, brushing him aside. “A little shock or two will do those spoiled brats some good.”
“Spoiled!? They are the future of this nation! Prized engineers, decorated inventors: researchers, Astrologians, soldiers and officers… every single resident here has clawed their way to this position by proving themselves worthy of the Grand General’s favor.”
“Fufu, I already know that, boy. I just don’t care.”
For one moment, all is peaceful. The Erudite’s residents happily go about their day, perusing the boutiques and fanciful restaurants that are nestled in the district’s center.
They are not foolish. They know these stores are but hollow fronts controlled by Xeros. Yet, even within this playground of falsehoods, the people stroll about with a smile. A haven of constant supervision is still a haven nonetheless: safe, welcoming, and fulfilling of their every need. All may rest easy here, knowing they shall not struggle unlike those below.
And then, Libevich falls from the sky. And great catastrophe falls upon the world.
The earth upheaves. A massive shockwave tears apart the nearby buildings.
And the air deafens, drowns, in an endless cacophony of screams.
Screams of pain from the bloodied and bruised. Screams of loss from a mourning lover to an unrecognizable, fleshy paste. So many screams, so much confusion: the people can only shrivel up and cower as everything is plunged into chaos.
And yet, the woman responsible for this mess is indifferent. She looks at the carnage laden about, and she yawns.
“How utterly pathetic,” she says, tossing the attendant to the ground. “Look very carefully, boy: These people are but mere lumps of meat when confronted with true power.”
The man struggles to rise back up, ears ringing and breath gasping, but his vision is clear. And he sees now just how deprave Libevich truly is.
“Skill? Effort? How deluded. The only thing that matters in this world is strength. No amount of proficiency in those menial occupations will save them when met with the threat of death. All that time spent ‘crawling’ as you say—gone in the blink of an eye because of their weakness.”
“Weak… they are weak,” he mutters.
To Libevich, his words are as sweet as blood. “Yes, boy! That’s right! It’s because they’re weak that they suffer now. But dear me, who could’ve expected some would die from just a tiny drop? Honestly, the standards of people these days: take yourself as an example. You… could be a bit better, but you’re a far cry from the rabble I see in the military these days.”
“I—” Although the man wishes to curse her out right here and now, he holds back his tongue and begrudgingly goes along with her madness. “I owe it all to Praetor Luxanne. Without her strict guidance, I would not be here today.”
“Fufu, as expected of my darling girl! One day she’ll surpass even me, mark my words.”
Speaking of the girl, Libevich feels as if she’s forgotten something.
“Oh my!” she gasps. “I almost forgot about Luxanne’s gift! Unfortunately, this lesson of ours will have to end here, but do make sure to remember my words.”
“… Of course, madam.”
“Excellent. Now, let us find a fitting necklace!”
The attendant coughs and gestures towards the collapsed ruins of the square. “That may be a bit difficult.”
“Nonsense, boy! If I want something, I will get it.”
After a bit of searching, she discovers a quaint old shop nearby. And the best part: it’s not completely destroyed. The window’s shattered and all the jewelry’s strewn about the floor, but the worker inside looks alive at least.
“Ah-hah! There it is.”
Libevich strolls right in and waits for the clerk to attend to her. Annoyingly, they’re still slumped over - glass shards stabbing into their face, their neck, and all about their chest - but Libevich doesn’t mind waiting. She’s in a good mood today.
“W-What? What just happened…” the clerk eventually mutters, standing up and wincing from the pain.
“Finally got your wits about you, hm? Good, I need a necklace for my darling girl’s return. What do you recommend?”
“Necklace? O-Oh, a customer. Um, I’m really sorry, but after… whatever that was, we’re not really in—”
Before they can say another word, Libevich raises her fist, and she obliterates the entire back of the store’s wall. Now she can see the sun: how nice.
“I will not repeat myself.”
The clerk instantly stands at attention and attempts to greet her with their friendliest smile. It doesn’t work; they resemble more a cornered, frightened prey. Libevich likes that. She likes their fear.
“Necklace. Yes, of course. I’ll get you the perfect necklace if you could just, um, give me a moment to pick them all up…”
She sighs and waves them off. “Bah, no need. I don’t have the time for that; this old woman’ll just pick whatever looks best.”
“O-Okay. Well, if you need any help, I’ll be… here.”
The wimpy thing runs off to a corner of the store, and Libevich is left to sift through the dirty pieces of jewelry. There’s just one problem.
She doesn’t have much of a fashion sense.
“Hm, I really don’t have an eye for this sort of thing,” she mumbles, slowly turning to her little slave. “Boy, get over here! How about you pick for me?”
“If that is your order,” he says, glancing over the pieces. The man doesn’t expect to find anything of worth at first, but something catches his eye amidst all the grime: silver rim, purple gemstones, and a giant white pearl clamped in the middle. Yes, this necklace is perfect. “How about this one, madam? I think it will contrast quite nicely with her armor.”
“Fufu, I knew I was right to drag you along!” she chuckles. “Alright, we’ve got what we came for. Let’s head out. But first…”
Libevich walks up to the still-frightened clerk, and she hands them a giant chunk of gold. “Keep the change.”
“T-Thank you. Please… come again soon?”
“Maybe I will. Have a nice day, deary!”
With her bounty finally in hand, she marches out and hums a fun little tune. Libevich still craves for battle, but the screams of the masses are enough to soothe her soul for now. Maybe she’ll do this again tomorrow.
“Hop on, boy.” She beckons the attendant.
“Madam… I think we should return on foot this time around.”
“Really? Oh, very well. I’m in no rush anymore.”
The man sighs in relief, and he follows the jolly woman out as the two finally leave the square.
Their trek is a quiet one compared to the mayhem before, and by the time they reach Libevich’s abode, the sun has already set. Here they are, standing before a lone, run-down shack. It looks no different than the shelters erected in the Slums, but she’s perfectly content with the space. Luxury only makes the heart weak.
It has been quite the fruitful day for her. Now, all she wants to do is take a nice long nap. Sleep is very important, especially for old souls like her who suffer from the aches of age.
The attendant, on the other hand, is simply thankful to see the end of the day. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to rest after everything that’s happened, but that’s a problem for the future him. The man of the present wishes for nothing more than to get away from this madwoman as soon as possible.
“Ah, I’d like to ask one last thing of you,” she says, turning around to bid him goodbye.
“My ears are yours.”
“What do you think Luxanne treasures most? And I don’t mean just material goods. There must be something that’ll help me better connect with her.”
The man ponders for a moment. The Praetor is certainly distant at times, but he has seen moments where even her stern exterior seems to soften. And that’s when she receives the causality report.
Only when Luxanne must record the dead does she look just a little more human.
“I would say she treasures people,” he says. “The Praetor is a kind woman at heart, and that is why we all dedicate our lives to her.”
The answer is not what Libevich expects, but it seems simple enough. “People… people… oh-hoh, you’ve given me the most marvelous idea!”
“I’m happy to be of service.”
She smiles. “That’s great. I’m sure Luxanne would be delighted to have you as one of her people, forever.”
“Pardon? What does that mean—”
But he doesn’t finish. Or rather, he can’t.
Because Libevich crushes his throat.
She casually raises her hand, and squeezes. Crunch. Just like that.
The man looks at her in horror, struggling to escape from her impenetrable grip, but the damage has already been done. His head can barely suspend itself on the pulpy stem that remains. He can’t move. He can’t speak. He can’t even scream. All he can do is gurgle helplessly as he falls onto the floor and breathes his last: a slow, painful end. One without any resistance.
Libevich feels a bit guilty for not giving him a warrior’s death, but such honor is for the strong—something he is not or ever will be. That’s just how the world goes.
“Don’t worry, my boy,” she says, plucking his eyes out. “You will make quite the dashing necklace, I know it!
Two necklaces might be a bit odd, but who would complain over double the amount of gifts? Surely, this will allow Libevich and Luxanne to finally bond.