The world turned silent.

Blood gushed out of the clean cut, dripping onto the hard ground. The sun felt exceptionally fiery as the heat stifled the atmosphere.

Stricken in shock, the little girl glanced down at her body. But she did not feel pain.

Instead, Jericho's trembling hand shielded her waist, intercepting the trajectory of the sordid projectile.

Giving the little girl a weak smile, Jericho felt himself losing authority over his own flesh. His sense of touch on his right hand had completely vanished, and he could no longer move his fingers like he once did. The vibrant colors on his right hand has drained.

"Are you alright?" Jericho murmured weakly as his face paled.

The hand above his wrist has detached from his body, rendering it immobile. His severed hand remained attached to the little girl, as if its purpose was to guard her until the very end, despite the fact that the bones, tendons, and muscles have ruptured in half.

A disheveled woman crawled out from the shades, cackling hysterically as saliva streamed out from the corner of her bruised lips. "Hahahaha! I've got you this time little boy! I've got you! No one defies the chosen one!"

Perpetuating pain scorched through Jericho's nerves as his brain operated at maximum capacity to suppress the phantom sensation. Tearing off the side of his shirt, Jericho bandaged his severed hand with the fabric to delay the bleeding.

He could not think of any valid explanation to why he instigated this action. Was it out of sympathy for the weak? Or has he grown too heroic for his own good?

Focusing on the danger on hand, Jericho gazed sternly at the demented woman strutting towards him.

Elita's feet stomped uncaringly over her unconscious worshipers, her sight solely targeted onto the boy who she had just critically injured.

In Elita's eyes, ordinary human beings were no more than ants. The voluntary scarring marking her body counts highlighted her delirious psychological complex. Her twisted notion only spiraled out of control after she obtained her superhuman abilities.

"The world should have known that a jail cell would never contain the devil's advocate!"

Wooden floorboards beneath her bare feet dampened as the crazy woman exclaimed her delusions. Tensing her arms, water bursted from the pipes beneath her and broke through the grandiose styling of wooden planks.

"This is my territory! My ship! My haven! The apocalypse was designed for superior beings like me! When my farm fully establishes, I will conquer the land!" She screamed.

The endless sea struck its ebbing waves onto Utopia's aluminum hull as if adhering to her ambitions.

Furrowing his brows, Jericho was stuck in a dilemma. He could choose to run, which would be the simplest yet most heartless option. Even if he chose to protect these survivors, he lacked faith in his capabilities. He could barely challenge Elita at full strength, let alone at his current injured state.

What should he do?

"Young hero."

A soft voice emanated from behind Jericho as a light force tugged the edge of his shirt. While Elita was still engrossed in boasting her ambitions, the mother of the little girl he had saved called out to Jericho, her eyes gleaming with gratitude.

"Open the other veil. She gathered us her as food for the zombies—"

As these crucial words entered Jericho's ears, his brain processed rationally through Elita's sinister scheme and he instantly knew what his next move was.

Farm? Food? Zombies? If he held the root of her ambitions as leverage, it would instantly turn the tide!

This was his only chance of survival.

Following a loud boom, Jericho pushed his feet hard against the ground and glided off towards the veil several meters away as the wood floorboard underneath shattered.

As a spray of wooden splinters rose from the floor, Elita's ceased her rambling. "Where do you think you're going!" Myriad water launched at Jericho as he made his way towards the sealed kids' amusement zone, where the black veil swayed in the wind.

Dodging a row of water spears, Jericho countered the most lethal projectiles accurately with his concentrated light beams. Smaller concoctions jabbed into his skin and flesh but Jericho fought through it with ease as if they were mosquito bites. The pain from them were insignificant as compared to the hand he had just lost.

Finally, Jericho grasped onto the veil as a grand pillar of water smashed through the area he had just tumbled away from, narrowly escaping death.

Assisted by the blustery sea breeze, Jericho ripped off the veil to reveal the atrocities within.

A pungent blast of stench broke free from its cage, escaping into the atmosphere.

Half devoured human corpses, blood and digestive fluids plagued the kiddy zone where children used to have fun. Morsels of meat still attached to human bones were infested with plump maggots. Amputated zombies squirmed and growled like parasites as they gnawed horridly on the shredded lumps of innards, their unquenchable hunger remained unsatisfied.

Though immobilized and dismembered, each and every one of them were larger than the average zombie, booming with vigor and aggression.

"So this is your farm huh?" Under the horrified expression of Elita, Jericho's remaining palm emitted a blinding light as he began to charge it up with energy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"NOOO! Don't you dare, you imbecile!" Dragging her nailed across her face in distress, Elita shrieked in panic and frustration. She was too preoccupied by her ego and obsession that she neglected the source of her confidence!

Had she continued on with her farm peacefully, she would have been able to harvest so many soul fragments, allowing her to commence her reign of terror!

But her ignorance has caused her to be outsmarted, and now, she needed to bargain as if her life depended on it.

"Little boy! Little… handsome boy… We can share all this fortune! You and me! These soul fragments alone will allow us to steam through the apocalypse! How does that sound?" She began to speak with her alluring voice, trying to coax Jericho into adhering. But her bruised features and the revolting scars on her naked body wasn't helping her convincing argument.

"Release them first! Then we'll talk." Jericho demanded calmly as the energy in his palms emulated the intensity of his attacks before the injury.

In reality, Jericho was exerting his utmost strength to restrain the urge to tremble. With all the blood loss and previous exertions on his body, Jericho was actually on the brink of collapsing.

"Fine! Fine fine fine! Leave!!! Leave you pathetic weaklings!" Screaming like a lunatic, Elita motioned in disgust for the surviving humans to leave at once.

The frantic shuffling of footsteps quickly vanished as the top deck of Utopia cleared instantaneously.

"Can we please talk now?" Trying to maintain a soothing tone, Elita squeezed out an unnatural smile.

By then, the sly words from her mouth felt like the buzzing of bees to Jericho. His eyelids began to flicker as if signaling his dwindling consciousness.

All of a sudden, several figures emerged from the corner of the stairwell, entering Jericho's vision.

A mellow hue of light immediately returned to Jericho's eyes as he saw the two familiar figures standing up front.

But something wasn't right. Jay and Esther had been tied with ropes, their mouths gagged with cloths to restrict their speech.

"Impossible…" Jericho screamed in despair internally as he saw the dreadful sneer of Aristaeus hiding behind Jay and Esther.

Elita's most loyal worshipper has arrived with the worst news of Jericho's entire life.

Deliberate starvation. Severe blood loss. Harsh hours of torture. None of those physical pain were nearly comparable to the heartbreaking scene before him.

This mental and internal torment was unbearable to Jericho. The benevolent people he had sworn to protect were in risk of dying before his eyes, and all he had left was a little speck of willpower and a bargaining chip.

"Master! I have brought the boy's family here!"

Aristaeus squealed like a dog as he ran towards Elita, the messiah of god.

His heartbeat pumped faster than light as he prepared for his great master's praise.

But things somehow went awry.

"Aristaeus! My pathetic peasant is finally here!"

Filthy words attacked him, striking him deep in his heart. He could not believe what he had just heard. The Master who he loved and whom loved him back just muttered such condescending words?

"Master! I—"

"Shut up you pathetic piece of shit! I've always abhorred your disgusting face! How could a schizophrenic garbage like you obtain such an amazing power! I should be the one deserving of that ability, not a mere commoner like you!"

Elita's harsh words stabbed into his heart like a dagger. He felt his heart bleed.

What..? Is this really what she thinks of me?

Aristaeus clenched his aching chest as he stumbled back, falling onto the hardwood deck.

His ability allowed him to evoke the deepest fears or desires of one's memories, causing the target to become temporarily stuck in a trance.

Up ahead, a young boy with golden hair and a naked woman stood motionless in the cold breeze as the intensity in the air withered away.

After Jericho broke through his ability with ease, Aristaeus spent the short amount of time he had absorbing the flaws and revamping them.

He has grown stronger, and he wanted to help his dear Master.

He wanted to please the Master who saved him from his depression, the Master who respected him despite his defects, the Master who praised him despite his mistakes…

He hasn't gained full control over his newly developed power, which could now affect multiple individuals in a certain region. Casting his amazing skill, he expected the outcome to proceed smoothly.

But reality wasn't as perfect as he thought. He was willing to go on extreme extents to please Elita, but she viewed him even less than a dog, a literal mutt.

Aristaeus's heart turned cold, but he still clung onto a lingering speck of hope and steeled himself.

However, the disappointing scenario before him never faltered.

The young boy's mouth continuously muttered the words, 'family', 'no' and 'don't hurt them', while the Master he once worshiped never ceased her condescending chastising and agonizing criticism.

Her blatant hatred and jealously towards him made Aristaeus face reality.

In Aristaeus's vision, the goddess he once worshiped had peeled off her facade, revealing her hideous core. Her body was scarred, her face was bruised and her majestic demander has disappeared.

"How is this happening! No no no no no!" Clenching his skull, foam frothed at the corner of his mouth as Aristaeus tremored in disbelief.

"You! You must have corrupted my goddess! How could you?!" Unable to accept the brutal truth, Aristaeus screamed in pain as his eyes reddened in distress.

Turning away from reality, his schizophrenia drove himself deeper into despair and rejection as he diverted his fury towards the young boy who disrupted their flawless plan.

"That's right. If you never came, our lives would have remained perfect!"

Laughing like madman, Aristaeus brandished a knife as he jabbed the sharp edge into the beautiful woman he worshipped. "Rest in peace my dear Elita. I will always remember for who you were and how you inspired me!"

As Elita's lifeless body plopped lifelessly into the ground, Aristaeus began to take heavy steps towards Jericho, licking the Elita's blood on the surface of the blade like it were a delicious treat.

The tangerine sun beat down as Aristaeus's shadow crept closer and closer to Jericho, his knife raised high up in the air.

"Aristaeus! Please release my family! I will do anything!"

Jericho pleaded in his hallucination as the light in his palms slowly dissipated. His heart burned ferociously, far overwhelming the physical pain of his severed hand.

He didn't want to lose his hand over a little girl, but Jay and Esther would have told him that it was the right choice. And that's all he wanted, validation from the ones who cared about him, because only that would fill the void in his heart.

How did it come down to this? Jericho wanted to cry like when he was just a little child. He hasn't had a real cry in so long.

Other than a perfect smile, it was the last of the only two expression he had mastered during his training, because convincing crocodile tears were crucial to lowering enemies' guards.

"Jericho! Someone is about to attack you!"

Amidst his internal conflicts, Jay's and Esther's desperate voice suddenly boomed in his ears, decimating the emotions muddling his mind.

The lone tear forming in Jericho's swelling eye evaporated as a spark of hope arose.

Jay? Esther? But aren't their mouths gagged and muffled?

Was he forgetting something? Or… someone?

As Jericho came to a realization, the subsiding light in his palms abruptly detonated.

The blinding explosion of light inflicted fear into Aristaeus as it triggered the scorching puncture on his thighs. It reminded him of Jericho's innate freakish senses and his domineering presence.

Aristaeus's quaking arms struggled to jam down on the child before him.

Fear has locked on to him.

Scared of Jericho's awakening, Aristaeus fled towards the aft of the ship, opposite to where the noises of incoming people occurred from.

"Oh my god! Are you okay Jericho?! Someone please hurry! He needs medical attention!"

Worried voices of Jay and Esther drowned in the background as Jericho's blurry vision detected the anxious expressions of the benevolent people he called family.

Relishing the sight before him, Jericho whispered inwardly as a warm tear of joy rolled down his cheeks.

'Oh… so this is what it feels like to be loved…'