Deadmeat Saga

Chapter 51 – Complete Massacre! Mourning the dead.

"In the name of my lord, I sentence you to death!" Havre happily declared as if celebrating her birthday.

The Hobgoblins didn't understand her words, but the Goblin Commanders learned the human language and understood her.

"This crazy bitch!"

"Capture her and rape her!" A male Goblin Commander yelled while brandishing his sword.

"Not before I smash her pretty head like a watermelon!" Tivnirx waved her war hammer.

But the next moment, something they didn't expect happened. The pretty blond woman suddenly vanished. No, not vanished, but she instantly accelerated to unbelievable speeds, approaching them with a manic look.

"What the?!" The goblins were shocked.

"Prepare for battle!" Tivnirx yelled.

But it was too late. Havre arrived in front of them in two seconds, waving her sword at a goblin commander. In an instant, a commander and the wolf under him were decapitated. Using the commander's shoulder, Havre flew like an arrow at the wolf riders, waving her sword in a frenzy as heads flew high, blood flowers blooming in the air, staining Havre's white body and golden hair. Every second, a handful of Hobgoblins tragically died.

This scene completely halted the charging riders, switching their focus on the maniac on a killing spree within their ranks!

"Kill her!" A Goblin Commander charged at her.

Havre merely glanced at him, used a fresh corpse as her footing, and shot at him like a bolt. The goblin commander had the illusion he saw real thunder approaching him! Instinctively, he raised his shield and used all his Aura for defense.

"Thunderclap slash!" Havre slashed forward, the Emerald Flame Sword shining with silver lightning, thunder sounding.

Rumble*

In an instant, she arrived behind the horrified rider. The shield, the arm that held it, the rider, and the wolf under him were cut perfectly in half. And after only a light pause, she continued her massacre.

Crird, who watched this scene, began having cold sweat. "T-This is a nightmare, right? Right?!"

Unfortunately, it wasn't. It was reality. The army he raised- his spawn, were being butchered like pigs and chickens in front of his eyes. He felt like he was looking at one of the intermediate or high hegemons!

"No! I must kill her!" Crird gritted his teeth, pulled a giant arrow, and aimed at the rampaging Sword Saint.

It was a bow made from Hegemon Tendons and ancient trees. In his tribe, he was the only one with the raw strength to fire such a mighty bow. Along with his high talent in bows and his mount, he was a potent archer who could face even lesser Hegemons.

"Humans are more frail than monsters on the same level, so a clean hit should kill her." Crird thought as he carefully aimed and shot an arrow, not caring if he accidentally killed his soldiers as long as he could slay this beautiful monster.

"Hm!?" Havre's eyes widened and slashed in a direction.

TANG* Crack*

Havre slashed the arrow in half, the two halves flying and skewering two Goblin Commanders and several Hobgoblins and wolves. But after doing that, she blankly looked at the Emerald Flame Sword. It had a crack on it.

The beloved sword her lord gave her had a crack on it, threatening to break the sword.

"Unforgivable..." Havre shook in anger.

Tivnirx saw this as an opportunity and pounced on her, her war hammer raised high. "Die, you monster!"

Havre didn't dodge, moving her satin-like hand to block it.

DANG*

Havre blocked the war hammer, forged from the finest steel, quenched in high-level blood, and even engraved with runes and empowered by Aura with her bare hands. Tivnirx felt like she hit a wall- No, a wall wasn't that tough.

"Y-You damn mon—"

"YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!!" Havre roared in rage, waving her hand as she casually bisected Tivnirx with her bare hand.

"Cough*... How..." Overwhelming fear and pain flooded Tivnirx. Her upper and lower halves separated as she fell on top of her fallen comrades.

Crird, who heard Havre's roar, had the illusion it was the angry roar of a high hegemon. The Alpha under him also started shaking. "M-Monster..."

The next moment, he saw that Havre ignored the rest of the army and charged at him!

"STAY BACK!" Crird cried in fear as he started shooting arrow after arrow.

Unfortunately, Havre dodged all his shots, flashing like a phantom as she dashed at a speed he couldn't hope to outrun. He then saw Havre raise her sword and throw it like a lance! The next moment, the Alpha's head was cut in half, and he was nailed to a tree.

"Cough*... How could I die like this- Such indignity..." Crird muttered as he breathed his last. At the same time, The Emerald Flame Sword broke, the hilt falling on the ground while Crird remained nailed to the tree.

Seeing the dead Goblin Lord, Havre muttered, "I did you a final service and helped avenge you. Rest well, Emerald Flame Sword."

She then slowly turned to look at the remaining goblin army with a deadpan look. "You're next."

"S-Scatter!"

"Retreat!"

"I don't want to die!"

The goblin army's morale shattered. The remaining eight Goblin Commanders immediately fled, only caring for their lives.

"There is no escape, only death," Havre muttered as she began slaughtering the fleeing army.

By the end of it, only a blood-covered figure stood in a field of corpses. Everyone in the village who saw the massacre was slack-jawed, including Gerhart.

"I still let some rabbits escape..." Havre lamented about letting four Goblin Commanders and a few dozen riders escape.

"Fucking monster..." Gerhart shuddered.

"My Lord!" Havre noticed Gerhart, smiled, and waved at him, cheerfully running over. "I killed the enemy!"

When Gerhart looked at her, he had the illusion he was seeing a puppy who played in the mud.

"Eh... Yes. Good work, Havre." Gerhart forced a smile as he looked at the gruesome battlefield.

"I feel bad for the goblins..." Gerhart shuddered.

"My deepest apologies, my lord!" Havre suddenly knelt. "The sword you bequeathed me has been damaged. Please, punish me."

"The merit you did has greatly outweighed the sword lost. I will get you a new sword." Gerhart replied, knowing that any other reply would bother her.

"Yes! Thank you for your generosity, My Lord!" Havre smiled.

"And please go get cleaned." Gerhart warily said.

"Yes, of course!" Havre immediately stood up and ran toward the village.

"Hah..." Gerhart sighed.

"Cough* Cough*..."

Suddenly, he heard the coughing of someone. Looking over, he saw that it was a pretty female Goblin Commander, bisected at the waist yet still alive and conscious.

"Good gods... She survived all that?!" Gerhart was astonished but still approached the dying Goblin Commander and knelt beside her.

"Do you understand me?" Gerhart questioned.

"Yes. I know. Cough*." The female truthfully answered, knowing she had little time to live.

"Why did you attack us?" Gerhart curiously asked.

"Ha... Ha... Warchief... Ordered... Cough* Cough*." The female Goblin Commander said, pointing at a sizable goblin nailed to a tree in the distance. "Humans, threat. We fight back. Cough* Cough*."

"I see. Do you want to live?" Gerhart tilted his head, thinking of something.

"Want..." The female Goblin Commander replied. She was still young and had a powerful drive to live, and it was in goblin nature to surrender to the strong. The blond monster was controlled by him, making him automatically more influential in her perception.

"Good. Accept the gift." Gerhart said and held the Goblin Commander's head.

He then converted her into a thrall. Perhaps it was her strong desire to live or her weakness, but she didn't resist, accepting everything.

Tivnirx has successfully converted.

Gerhart then brought her lower and upper halves together and started healing her.

As soon as he finished healing her, Tivnirx shakily got up and knelt, "My Lord, thank you for your mercy..."

"Stand up. You are now to help me bring corpses back to the village." Gerhart ordered.

"Yes..." Tivnirx said and started picking up the corpses of her fallen comrades.

In Goblin society, the hunter had the right to the prey. Such was the cycle of nature. She had no right to complain of the fate of her dead comrades.

As he brought the Goblin Commander with him, the villagers complained.

"Why is she still alive while my son is dead?!" One of the villagers hatefully glared at Tivnirx.

"They killed my partner..." A bereaved woman holding her dead spouse stared at her with hate.

"My sister..."

"My father..."

"My cousin..."

"My grandma..."

Many stared at her with hatred, wanting to tear her limb from limb. Of course, they didn't dare do anything since she was under Gerhart's command. Who were they to question their lord? But that didn't stop them from feeling discontent.

"My lord. I do not understand. Why hate so much?" Tivnirx frowned and asked.

"Your tribe killed their close of kin, friends, and lovers. Do you not understand such simple logic?" Gerhart asked back, somewhat surprised.

He never delved deeply into Goblin psychology outside their voracious sexual desires and murderous nature. The Tinkerers, a race resembling goblins, along with the Orcs, Ogres, and Oni, share a common ancestor with the Goblins, many believing that Goblins are either the corrupted experiment of a dark god or that they were the ancestors of these races.

At least, he believed Hobgoblins were supposedly intelligent enough to understand complex emotions and Goblin Commanders even more. Not understanding such simple logic that even animals knew was weird.

"This is a war of survival. No hate, no remorse. The human village was a threat, so we attacked. I feel no sadness or hate over the death of my tribesmen, and they wouldn't feel sad about me." Tivnirx said.

"And what do you feel about the hatred of the villagers?" Gerhart asked.

"I feel... Uncomfortable." Tivnirx said, feeling confused.

"Perhaps you feel guilt?" Gerhart said.

Humans felt guilt over killing cattle, let alone another intelligent race. Hatred and anger were coping methods to mask and douse the guilt, but it should be instinctively there. 

Perhaps the simple goblins lacked this function, but more evolved goblins should have it.

Even Deadmeat felt some guilt over killing his masters, but his hate and resentment over years of suffering swallowed these feelings.

"Guilt... I do not know." Tivnirx shook her head.

"Do you know love or loss?" Gerhart asked.

"No... those emotions are for the weak." Tivnirx firmly said.

"Because you were raised and taught that?" Gerhart asked.

"... Perhaps." Tivnirx did not deny it, not knowing the answer herself.

"So it isn't that they can't feel it but are raised not to?" Gerhart mused. "Perhaps the primitive goblins don't feel such emotions, but they raise their young like lesser goblins, thus creating a cycle of unfeeling? And before they can develop complex emotions, they are exterminated?"

It was an interesting hypothesis in Gerhart's mind, but he couldn't confirm it. Shaking his head, he helped bring back the corpses to the village.

An hour later-

There were 35 corpses, covered in cloths, laid in front of the Statue of Conquest.

The villagers all stood around the statue, sad and bereaved.

Mother Rahel, standing on the podium, started her speech.

"Today, we have suffered a calamity and triumphed! Alas, the toll was high, and not all of us survived to see the light of tomorrow." She spoke to the crowd. "Let us pray to the fallen and thank them for their brave sacrifices."

The villagers wore pained looks. They were not a large community, and everyone knew one another. Even those who didn't get along with each other felt sorrowful, for even those bickerings were beautiful moments in their lives.

Standing beside the solemn Gerhart, Tivnirx took in the scene, feeling pained. She was never made to think too deeply about the consequences of death and believed in the cycle of nature. Yet now, she bore witness to such a saddening spectacle.

"My lord, why do you force me to see this?" Tivnirx asked in a hushed voice.

"To make you understand human emotions," Gerhart replied.

"Human... Emotions..." Tivnirx repeated, silently taking in everything.

After Mother Rahel finished her speech, Hope went up to the podium and spoke, "We shall now send them off. They will forever live within our lord and us, protecting us even in death. Please make your final goodbyes."

Villagers then approached the corpses, some sad and some feeling lost. Among them was Gracie, a beautiful woman with a bombshell of a body. She blankly stared at one of the corpses, a deep sense of loss in her eyes. The one she looked at was Kay, her life partner.

Gerhart, who learned her situation from Havre, felt pity for her. Kay was a willing and proactive cuckold who made her sleep with others but never slept with her. Sure, Gerhart found such acts distasteful, but he didn't think he deserved to die for that.

Of course, she was just one of many who received a significant blow. Many lives would change starting today.

Once everyone finished mourning the dead, Hope raised her hands. "We shall now commence the ritual. I offer these brave souls to our lord. May they forever protect us."

The next moment, Gerhart saw black energy seep out of the bodies, seeping into the statue before spreading to multiple people, including himself. The next moment, he felt pain rush throughout his body, kneeling on the ground.

"Kuk..." Gerhart gritted his teeth, pain wrecking his body and skills entering his mind.

Hope, Havre, and several other villagers also knelt, receiving the talents of the deceased.

A dozen minutes later, the process was over, everyone standing up. The bodies under the clothes turned to dust, their essence fully absorbed.

"The ashes of the fallen shall be buried tomorrow in a shared burial to commemorate them and their sacrifices," Hope said to the crowd. The priests and nuns of the village carefully picked the clothes full of dust and left.

"The funerary rights shall end for today. Now, we will offer our spoils of war to our lord and enjoy his blessings. All those who have not converted shall receive a final chance to convert before the process begins." Hope said with a scrutinizing look.

The villagers looked at the ones who had yet to convert, some still injured after the battle. Some even died because Gerhart couldn't heal them due to them not being thralls, resulting in unnecessary casualties.

"I-I want to convert!" A man with a wound on his chest stepped forward.

"Me too!" His partner also stepped forward, pushing her three children with her.

"I want to submit to the lord!"

"I also!"

After they saw the miracles Gerhart could bring and survived this calamity thanks to this unfamiliar god, even the most skeptical villagers cast their doubts aside, wanting to join.

After an hour, the last villager converted, and a satisfied smile bloomed on Hope's lips, knowing that Elkington Village now belonged to Gerhart.

"Good! Bring the corpses of our foes and begin the offering ceremony!" Hope declared.