CHAPTER 116: CHAPTER 116: FURY

At the charming woman’s words, the crowd’s originally excited reactions paused.

Their minds went blank at the mention of one word.

Although the name of the play was rather ominous, it still didn’t affect the crowd as much as the name of the play’s creator.

Prestige.

It’s a name that often symbolized wealth and elitism, but on the Grey Dragon Continent, what it represented could only be described as terror.

"Is this some kind of joke?!"

At this point, one of the Martial Artists in the audience stood up. Lake could see that he was a Martial Warrior by watching the surging mana in his body that seemed to move even faster with his sudden anger.

It seems he was greatly infuriated by the woman’s claims.

"Do you think it’s funny to go around using a terrorist group’s name like it means nothing-"

Swish!

As the man shouted out at the smiling woman, a red light flashed through the theater as the man’s words were cut short.

"!"

To the crowd’s horror, the man’s head slowly slid to the side before falling down.

Splurt!

As the man’s blood sprayed forth from his now headless corpse the audience instantly erupted in chaos.

"Ahhhhh!"

The shrill scream rang out from beside the man.

A little girl stared blankly at the head that had fallen into her lap as she whimpered, "D-Daddy?".

Blood had already soaked her clothes and hair yet she seemed to have not noticed it at all. She just continued to stare blankly at the face of her father.

It was the same angry expression he had when he was berating the woman on the stage yet there was a cold, unseeing glare staring back at her from beyond the gates of the afterlife.

"Eh...-sniffle- Wahhhhh!"

At the little girl’s cry, as if the starting shot to a race had been fired, the crowd all erupted as they stood up from their seats and rushed towards the exit door.

Boom!

However, as soon as they got up from their seats, everyone was forcefully shoved back down into their seats as the crowd, including the crying child, was instantly silenced.

A strong energy seemingly forcing their bodies to remain in place.

"Now now, I know a lot of you may have been startled by that man’s careless attitude, but I assure there is no need to be so impatient."

"After all, you saw what happened to those who tried to rush the start of the show."

Hearing the woman’s words while seeing her seemingly bright smile sent chills crawling across every member of the audience’s skin.

"Hehe, now, let us finally get the show underway, the first act of the play is called the ’Red Sky’. I hope you enjoy it."

At the woman’s ominous words, the crowd had no choice but to watch on in horror as a few audience members were dragged up onto the stage by her hooded actors.

The charming woman’s aura had already exploded and the oppressive presence of a Martial Master pressed down on them, rooting them to their seats.

....

At the top of the building, Lake looked down at the depressing scene with a grim expression.

The tears of the weeping mother and daughter continued to slide down their cheeks.

Although they couldn’t move or speak, it didn’t stop the pain in their hearts from drowning them in despair. As if the only way to express their pain to the world, they only continued to silently weep.

"Fuck..."

Lake gnashed his teeth as an unfamiliar rage filled his heart.

He didn’t immediately know why he felt this way, but he was extremely furious watching the tears of the little girl holding her father’s head in her lap.

This entire situation made no sense to him.

What was a terrorist organization doing at a theater?

Why do they only seem to care about putting on a show? It didn’t seem like they were here for ransom money.

Their actions were too violent and chaotic to be after something like that.

Instead they looked like they only cared about messing with the audience as they reveled in their fear. But that only left him with more questions.

Why do all this? What’s the point? What are they after?

However, none of this mattered as the most important question that Lake was facing right now.

Why? Just why did he feel this fiery sensation rushing through his body whenever he looked at the weeping child and her mother? Why did he feel the temperature of his blood rise and why did this seething rage fill his mind?

No matter how Lake thought about it, he simply couldn’t figure it out.

His thoughts were getting blurry because of the rage so he couldn’t even think about it properly.

However, as the woman continued on with her show, Lake could still feel the rage quickly growing deep within him.

"Now that we have our four guest actors on the stage, let us begin, shall we? I will be your narrator for tonight’s show." The woman smiled as she walked to the side.

In the center of the stage stood four guests that had been dragged onto the stage from the audience stand.

The hooded figures that had dragged them up had already receded to the back of the stage yet they still couldn’t move or run under the suppression of the charming woman’s Mana Field.

The charming woman stood to the side as she quietly began her narration.

"Four souls, suspended in time, stand as mere pawns under the beautiful moonlight. Unable to move, unable to speak, they are ensnared in a web of malevolent forces beyond their comprehension."

As the woman spoke, she waved her arms, fingers swaying as they followed the motions of her arms, their elegance belying their deadly intentions, as an invisible force seemingly controlled the movements of the four guests.

As the four guests were forced into different poses, the charming woman continued her narration.

"One of the souls, a middle aged man, fell to his knees, his hands clasped together in a silent prayer. He begged for the mercy of the moon but it seems his prayers will go unanswered."

"Another younger man jerked his head upwards, facing the blue moon as tears were shed, falling down his cheeks. He could already foresee his fate, yet he knew he couldn’t change a thing."

"The third soul, a youthful girl, continued to cry on her knees, seemingly questioning why this was happening to her."

"Finally, the fourth soul stood still. He was calm yet depressed. It seems he had already accepted his fate."

At the woman’s words, the four guests on the stage continued to change position, matching her narration.

Although everyone knew they were being controlled, when they saw each of the four guests’ faces, they felt a chill creep its way down their spines.

The woman’s words may have controlled their movement, yet her narration also seemed to describe exactly how each guest felt.

"As the four souls stood under the moonlight, a jarring noise rang out behind them, yet they dared not turn around, only continuing to stay motionless in the position they were left in. As the noise continued to get closer, and closer."

The four people on stage were deathly pale and had expressions of what could only be described as raw fear on their faces. They couldn’t turn around but there really was a jarring noise coming from behind them, filling each of them with dreadful anticipation of what’s to come.

"As the dreadful noise continued to approach, it suddenly came to a halt. The four souls could feel a hoarse breathing on their napes as the sickle of death hung on their necks."

Suddenly, the four guests on their stage felt the pressure on their bodies released. They didn’t know why, but they all tried to run at the same time.

"In the four’s final moments, they tried to make a daring escape, yet their fates were already decided from the moment they stepped onto the stage."

Swoosh!

"With a chilling slash, the four heads of the lost souls flew into the air, dyeing the ethereal moonlight, in a crimson glow."

Plop!

The audience watched on in horror as the four bodies hit the ground with a sickening thud that echoed through the silent hall. They couldn’t move or scream, yet fear had already gripped the hearts of everyone in the stands. Regardless of how much they may have desired to flee, they were cursed to remain still as they bore witness to those heads fall from on high and crash into the stage, splashing in the red liquid that once kept them alive, now used to show just how cruelly that life had been taken from them.

A few wanted to throw up at the gruesome scene yet the force suppressing them seemingly kept the vomit locked in their throat.

At that point, the blood that had oozed out of the four guests’ carcasses seemed to float up into the sky, drop by drop as it mixed with the lunar mana in the air.

"As if to mourn for the loss of the four souls, their blood flew up into the sky, mixing with the ethereal light, heralding the birth of The Red Sky!"

As they were forced to witness the gut wrenching scene, the audience continued to weep silently. If this was a play they may have applauded or been creeped out by the plot.

However, it wasn’t just a play put on by actors and writers.

This was Reality.

Four humans, four friends, four children born of loving families, had just been reduced to naught but four playthings for the sake of a terrorist’s idea of a game.

The person most affected by the play however, wasn’t the audience sitting in the stands, not even the girl who was still being forced to withhold her tears as she held her own father’s head, but the man who was currently burning up inside atop the building.

Lake didn’t know a moment ago why he felt this way, but after hearing the woman’s narration, he finally figured it out.

Those people weren’t meant to die.

It was such a simple reason, and could have been used by anyone else, but to Lake, those words held a completely different meaning.

When the woman said it was their fate, he knew the truth.

When the woman killed them without a word, he saw their fate.

When the woman proclaimed it was destined, he felt enraged.

She dared to step on his authority.

She dared to control fate in front of him.

This vile woman had dared to proclaim the death of four people as an act of fate, all while fate’s master looked down upon her. Lake felt himself losing his mind as his eyes turned bloodshot as he stared at the woman.

The way he was feeling now was different from when he had used Howling Roar. Although his rage had taken a hold of him, his mind was still clear, but that only made him far more terrifying.

For the very first time in his eighteen years of life, Lake wasn’t going to make a decision based on logic, nor a decision based on reason.

But of one based on pure, unbridled, fury.