Chapter 120: Shoo
"Are you going to kill us?" Varros asked, finally voicing the question that had been writhing in every knight’s mind.
His voice trembled slightly—not from weakness of heart, but from the sheer weight of helplessness pressing against him. There was no defiance left. No flame. Only a question.
Yxthul, now floating just a few feet above the ground, cocked his head. His abyssal eyes blinked slowly, as if amused by the inquiry of these mortal fools.
"Kill you?" he repeated, almost casually. "No, no. I have no interest in slaying the unripe."
He began to drift slowly in the air, hands behind his back, inspecting the area like a noble strolling through his private garden. "I want you gone. That’s all. Gone from this land. Never return. Never send another patrol, or scouting party, or expedition to ’cleanse’ what you do not understand."
His tone grew sharper, each word now carrying the weight of something far older and darker than the battlefield around them.
"And if your precious Baron—what’s his name again? Ah yes, whatever Baron you are serving—if that mortal Baron whatshit he is, if he dares involve himself in this matter again... I will come-no! I will come for him and his people!"
Yxthul’s voice dropped to a whisper, like a knife gliding across silk.
"Yes, I will go to him and this is a threat."
He stopped midair, turned, and faced Varros fully. "And I will not be polite."
A pause.