A fair bit before the Red Mountain forces found out about the state of Paradiso City, in fact it was a short while before the city was to be in ruins at all, Vaile had lost his temper. He had never had to experience the horrors of genocide or other such cruelty in his world, and only got a single glimpse of what 'average' people are capable of when cruelty is mandatory when Chuu had killed that little girl right in front of him and fed her dead body to the mob. He always had a soft spot for children and seeing the heads of dozens of children burning in a massive bonfire in a wide plaza had set him off.
He had also, for quite a while, failed to recognize the vast level and stat difference between himself and most of the ‘normal’ people of the world. He had caught a passing glance of that difference back when he was first attacked by the Dwarf Assassins, but he had been too caught up in his escape and never realized just how powerful a max-level player character from the end-game of a FDVRMMORPG could be.
Almost everyone in the world was so much weaker than him that, even though his build was not at all geared towards melee combat, he could reduce a man to a fine red mist in a single strike. Forget overkill, Vaile was breaking the laws of physics and sending everything he struck flying like it had been struck by a giant in that old, buggy game that had been that now defunct studio’s second-to-last great game. A pity that its greed had destroyed all trust people had in it and then ended up filing for bankruptcy when its games fell flat.
So now, what was Vaile doing now? He was wreaking house, that was what he was doing. He was demolishing city blocks with a few swings of his staff, erasing every single person (guards, mostly but also the occasional suicidal maniac with a bit of martial training who thought of themselves as the next great hero of legend) who tried to stop him and generally rampaging uncontrollably. He was seeing red, and his rage only got worse with every few swings.
The reason for that was simple. It was because every few swings opened up a way for him to see the results of the atrocities committed in Paradiso City. Every block he demolished revealed a basement filled with the desiccated corpses of non-humans, a scene of grisly torture or some other, even more unspeakable act of sadism and evil. Vaile was no Snowflake, but he also was not a cold and callous individual. Like any sane man in this situation, the sheer barbarity, monstrosity and savagery on display forced his ‘fight or flight’ response to activate, and oh boy did he chose to fight.
…
Malvyn heard the thunderous roars of explosions from inside the castle. Hastening to the window, he looked out and saw utter destruction. The walls had been breached from within, but he and the other conspirators had not received word that Red Mountain was nearby, so he could not guess who or what could have begun such a devastating attack, and from within the walls no less. He watched as entire districts were send flying into the air, reduced to rubble and wood splinters by something or someone.
“God of Mankind, what is going on down there?!” One of the people in the court who was watching the carnage like him exclaimed in astonishment.
“I don’t know. But whatever it is that is down there, we must prepare for the eventuality that it turns its attention towards us and the King.”
Malvyn and the others had to act soon, because this event certainly threw a spanner in the works.
“Worry not!” Jaffe Arre said loudly and with great vigor. Or rather, the puppeteered corpse of Jaffe Arre said it.
All eyes turned to the Hellequin-possessed body.
“I will gather the wisest, most loyal and most powerful among you to keep the King safe and secure from that which is outside. No threat from without shall harm a hair on his head and this… whatever it is that is being so destructive will surely be forced to halt at the sight of their loyalty and duty!”
As Jaffe Arre selected the 60 men, all members of the plot to assassinate the King of the Trelawney Kingdom, Malvyn smirked inside.
“That demon really has a way with words. Every single line it has spoke out here has been one hundred percent true, yet at the same time filled with just enough loopholes that it is also engaging in total deception. ‘The wisest, most loyal and most powerful’ can refer to either those loyal to the King, or to the Tyrant. ‘No threat from without shall harm a hair on his head’ means that threats from within can and will do so instead or threats from without. As for ‘halting at the sight of our loyalty and duty’… Does it know what is causing all of this?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The Conspirators escorted their target away from the main hall and into the throne room and sat the King upon his throne.
“All guards!” Jaffe Arre yelled. “Leave the throne room at once and prepare to intercept the being rampaging outside the castle! Sortie as soon as you can and slow it down, even if it costs you your lives! That being will not be able to spill a drop of his majesty’s living blood today if you leave the castle and fight it!”
The guards looked at each other, shrugged, and then left. They knew better than to try and disagree with the man who actually held all the power in the Kingdom. Soon enough, the throne room was empty, save for the King, Jaffe Arre and the sixty conspirators.
“My King, please stand. Come down from your regal seat and join us as we discuss the future.”
The inbred and mentally handicapped mess of a king saw nothing wrong with this and got up and hobbled over to the sixty men and one marionette of a corpse.
Seconds passed, then minutes, then half an hour.
“Wut wur wi gun tak bowt?” The King asked through his numerous deformities.
Jaffe Arre nodded to Malvyn who approached the now-surrounded King.
“We were going to talk about how the world will be a better place at the end of this conflict.”
“Oh. Cul. Wais dat?”
“Because...” Malvyn said as he thrust a dagger into the King’s body. “… it won’t have you or your regime in it!”
Apparently, the deformities and genetic mutations caused by a dozen or so centuries of inbreeding rendered Zayrek Narude Trelawney unable to feel pain, and so he did not notice that he had been stabbed. The conspirators moved in and each blade found its mark again and again. Finally, the genetic mess that was Zayrek realized that he was being assassinated and tried to flail. Unfortunately, several stab wounds had severed some of his nerves, and the most recent stab to come was aimed at his spine. The last strike found purchase and the King of the Trelawney Kingdom collapsed like a rag doll.
Blood seeped out of every hole in his body, and the light started leaving his eyes. Then…
Jaffe Arre collapsed and the Hellequin emerged. It reached down with one of its spidery hands and tore something ephemeral and shadowy from Zayrek’s dying body before stuffing it in its inhumanly wide mouth and vanishing from the material world.
“Did… did it just eat his soul?”
One of the conspirators only managed to get that one question out before a massive tremor shook the castle. Whatever had demolished so much of the city had arrived and was dealing with the castle. Based on the sounds, it was close. Very clo-.
The door to the throne room blew to pieces and a very irate man in a white and red robe and a mask rushed in. The man stopped just short of the conspirators and, in that moment, they realized just who was behind all of the devastation.
“Vaile Almighty…”
With those two words, they all dropped to their knees and worshipped the figure that stood before them. He was a carbon copy of the idols they had prayed to, albeit far more regal and more magnificent.
…
“What is going on? Did you seriously turn on your own King to save your skins?”
“No, Lord! We wear the mark of Red Mountain! See? We are your faithful servants, oh Mighty Vaile!”
They all showed their signet rings, and Vaile sighed. Of course Seivalt would plant assassins so close to his foe, and of course they would see his rampage as the perfect moment to strike. Still, he had wanted to kill the king himself, but maybe that would have pushed him over the edge. During his rampage he had not intentionally harmed any civilians aside from those who turned their weapons on him, although the devastation he had wrought likely resulted in a large amount of ‘collateral damage’.
“Well, good job, I guess… I kind of wanted to-.”
Vaile immediately felt a chill run down his body. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he immediately teleported to the depths of the Kraescan Forest. He vanished not a moment too soon as almost immediately after he departed, Chuu and the other members of the Five-Clawed Paw arrived in the throne room of the now headless Trelawney Kingdom.
The conspirators were shocked at the appearance of these… things. But the Rattan Ruling Council were only interested in finding their precious prize.
“Where. Is. He?” Chuu snarled.
“We will die before we tell a monster like you where Almighty Vaile went! Even if we did know, there would be nothing you could do to force us to tell yo-!”
An emerald lightning bolt sent the human spinning through the air. He was alive, but definitely not having a good day. Skwiik put her arm in between Chuu and the other conspirators, as if to protect them.
“Skwiik? What is it? Why protect these Man-things?” Chuu asked her personal assassin.
“They are wear-wearing the same signet rings as the ones who help-aided us in dealing with the Beard-things.”
Looking at them, they sure enough were property of Red Mountain, and therefore under the protection of Seivalt. Chuu clicked her tongue and tried to trace Vaile’s position but, like when she found out he was here, the spell was only just barely able to determine where he was.
Chuu howled and opened another portal, this time to the Under-Empire.
“Are we just giving up?!” Rippa almost screamed at Chuu, furious that they would not be trying to chase Vaile down.
“For now, yes. It would be foolish to try and find him in the Kraescan Forest. The only way to find him would be to burn down the whole area, and that would end up killing him. He will be found, and he will be ours; he can’t stay in there forever, after all.”
The five rat-women went through the portal, and the conspirators breathed a sigh of relief. Their mission was done, and they didn’t die. Now all they had to do was wait for Red Mountain to arrive and all would be well. Boy, would they have a story to tell the New Tyrant.