WARNING: This chapter contains mature elements such as blood, torture, BDSM.

Chapter 12: A Man-born Monster

Underworld, Dark Territory, Obsidia Palace—10th September, Year 380 in the Time of the Realm of Humanity

What makes a man tick, he wondered. The things that goes in their minds, their hearts, their souls… it perplexed him.

Gabriel Miller. At first glance, he might just be your typical run-of-the-mill guy who worked as the Chief Tactical Officer at Glowgen Defense Systems. He also had a hobby of catching insects, which wasn't so odd. What made him stand out in Japan was the fact that he was, in truth, an American. He had learnt Japanese a long time ago, and even taken part in 'GGO'.

Although his lack of emotions tend to make people wonder if he was either a living being or a puppet detached of its strings. His lack of responses, his constant bored look, the deadness in his eyes—he could fault no one for thinking that he had died. Perhaps he had, yet his body moves even now, as a husk of what should have been.

Some could assume that he would have simply just been a simple player, but in truth, he was the mind behind the avatar 'Subtilizer'; a legend amongst the players of 'GGO', he was revered as one of the best players after having won two 'Bullet of Bullets' competitions, the first and the fourth, in fact.

Given the fact that 'GGO' does indeed possess so many talented players within its ranks—such as, but not limited to Kiriko, Sinon, LLENN, Pitohui, Kureha, Zeliska, Itsuki—it was a feat all on its own that he managed to carve his name amongst such players.

But really, this man could not be considered just a simple man. No.

He wasn't human to begin with.

A lot of people tend to theorize on what devils are like, and yet, one had already existed within their ranks. And its name was Gabriel Miller himself.

"Seriously, Lord Vector, you should try smiling a lot more," a male voice behind him snickered in a jesting manner, and the image of a massive grin and an endless wave of energy was immediately displaced into his mind's eye. "You're putting all your subjects on edge. Loosen up a bit, like me!"

"Were I to do so, I'd only be presenting myself as some sort of fool, and that would be hardly befitting a ruler such as myself," spoke Gabriel—no, he was Vector, now. He looked to the owner of the voice, whose face possessed nothing but a simple smirk. "No, I'd prefer leaving you to play that sort of role."

Vassago Casals. An 'SAO' survivor who had commanded the 'Laughing Coffin' guild, the infamous party of players that were the only ones who actively took part in killing other players. Just like his guild (or even more, he assumed), the man was sadistic, and lacked any sort of empathy for his own kind.

The man had black, wavy hair and a sadistic grin on his face always, and a small tattoo on the right side of his face. When it came to body mass, he could certainly beat some other men, and his love for killing was just as strong. Something about him was just inhuman, and that made him perfect for the role of the reaper—he took lives without regret, and the Look-See wouldn't even bat him an eye.

Vector hummed, thinking about how Vassago had become his Dark Knight, although he remembered that it was as such once he remembered that this was the sort of plan that he had to go through simply because these were the only SuperAccounts that they had.

No… he wasn't Vassago in this world anymore. PoH was his name, an acronym for 'Prince of Hell', which seemed to go along with his personality. And he played his new role impressively.

The situation that they were in were odd, but Vector found it slightly amusing. After all, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he hardly doubted he'd ever have the opportunity to return to this realistic, strangely addictive world once their mission was over.

After all, being summoned into this world as its evil God wasn't something just about anyone could easily experience anytime. Plus, he was meant to be an all-powerful being that could do just about anything he wanted to, and he could simply partake in his desire to savour souls.

However, there was simply no chance for leisure, because…

"Your Highness," the dark lord turned around, right into the gaze of a young messenger. "I bring you some news. They're… not good ones, however."

"Hmm. Summon the Ten Lords Assembly in my throne room. I wish for everyone to be present while you tell us this. It sounds quite important," he says, and the messengers nods his head before quickly taking his leave. "PoH, are you free to join us?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'd just love to know just what sort of problems we're facing now," sarcasm was something not many people tended to appreciate, but he certainly did. "Let's get to it!"

Underworld, Dark Territory, Obsidia Palace, Throne Room—10th September, Year 380 in the Time of the Realm of Humanity

The throne room in the palace was both magnificent and dull at the same time, due to its bland colours and seemingly imperfect use of dark bricks to blend well with the lacking light from the sky that poked through the gaps in the walls.

Seated atop his throne of hard stone and gold, with PoH standing at the ready just a few feet away and holding his sword, this moment reminds him of the time that he first dived into this world—exactly in the same few positions and in the same exact equipment that they wear now.

And right before him, ten men and women in total remained bowing before him in respect of their lord.

'Ten Lords Assembly… All of them leaders of their respective clans or group, each supposedly desiring to topple the Human Realm and rule over the lands themselves,' he thought to himself as he looked at each one of them, hand on his chin as he gazed lazily at them.

Vixur Ul Shusta, Commander of the Dark Knights Order. He was an experienced veteran, and looked as if he had fought his fair share of battles throughout the years due to the scars that marred his skin. He presented himself in armour that was befitting a Dark Knight, with a serious look on his face.

Kubiri, Chief of the Flatland Goblins. By simple definition, he was large, his body a shade of soft lime and wearing some sort of headwear that more befitted the Greek's time, along with a chestplate and some broad shoulder guards.

Hagashi, Chief of the Mountain Goblins. He, too, was massive, with yellow hair that covered his head and cropped around his chin to form a fiery beard. His armour consisted of vambraces and a tunic with fur lining, preferably to keep him warm in such cold climates, as his home is indeed cold.

Sigurosig, Chief of the Giants. Dwarfing all the others in size alone, he was expressionless, pale skinned and wearing leather pants with chains over his chest in a cross. His yellow hair were tied in twin braids that fell down, several dark markings on his body and face as a sign of his strength.

Furgr, Chief of the Ogres. Unlike most popular depiction of ogres on the Internet, he and his people more closely resembled werewolves, and their leader possessed a crossbow fitted to his armguard and a large scar on his face that ran from his eye down to his nose.

Iskahn, Tenth Champion of the Pugilists Guild. Of the human race and similar to the rest of his clan, he had dark skin, and looked especially young. His body, however, spoke of a harsh tale of training and battles, with countless muscles that deserved respect—and he respected strength.

Fu Za, Head of the Assassins Guild. He could have been an old man, but it was hard to tell due to the black hood that he covered his face with—PoH was reminded of how he and his guild members looked back then in 'SAO', as hoods and poncho were their trademark outfits.

Rengil Gila Scobo, Head of the Commerce Guild. He was bloated, ginger hair that accompanied monocle that he wore on his face. His body was clad in purple robes that made him look like some sort of rich man, and the aura that he exuded seemed to be that of greed.

Rirupirin, Chief of the Orcs. His body and face were that of a pig, bipedal, with blond hair that were tied in braids. His pride in his men and strength were unparalleled by most, and the undying courage in his gaze certainly spoke volumes of this.

Dee Eye Ell, Chancellor of the Dark Mages Guild. She was beautiful, with a mature build, silver hair and a revealing outfit that even PoH could not help but gaze upon every once in a while, shooting her a whistle in curiosity every once in a while. And her skills in sorcery was not meant to be undermined.

All ten of these people were incredibly powerful and important, and they served him.

Vector did a head count of all people present right now, and nodded to himself. "Very well, everyone are here now. Rise," they followed his command, then he looked over to the messenger from earlier. "What are the news that you wish to tell us?"

"Sir!" Straightening his posture, he made a small bow before continuing. "As you've ordered, we've attempted to breach through one of the caves in the northern region of their Human Realm, yet the ice they have used seems to be blessed with magic. We have tried out countless methods, yet we have failed in melting or breaking the ice."

"And the sky soldiers?" He asked.

"They… They have doubled in numbers," his words elicit a few looks of surprise from the people in the room. "As of now, their numbers are around two hundred, and they're constantly patrolling the perimeters, making it hard for us to attempt flying in the sky."

"That's… a lot of them…" Clicking her tongue, Dee Eye Ell looked to the soldier. "What if we were to cast a powerful «Sacred Art» from the sky? Surely, they do not have—"

"They… do," with how his tone turned dark, it was all that they could do but to simply focus on him. "We cannot determine whom was able to do so, but it seemed that they were able to erect a massive barrier that should reflects any form of «Sacred Arts». We have tried several «Sacred Arts», strong or weak, yet none of them were able to break through…"

The sounds of it are enough to fill the room with dread, with even PoH narrowing his eyes. With how he didn't seem to have his usual smirk on his face, that went to show just how serious the situation was.

With all that they had done, yet failure had been the thing they experienced time and time again, Vector could only imagine this to be doing of the Human Realm's pontifex; the Administrator. She is, after all, the strongest being in their ranks that could cast such a high-levelled «Sacred Arts».

Then again, this should have been impossible. It would require high amounts of «Spatial Resources», and even then, it can't have simply been the product of just one person alone—that would leave a heavy toll on the body, and surely no one would be able to simply survive the repercussions of a spell that strong.

'There must have been another person who helped her,' he thought, rubbing his chin in thought. He had studied the laws of this world, now understanding at least a good portion of it. 'After all, we can't entirely be sure. Perhaps it's that rumoured Second Head…'

Recently, he caught onto news about the Human Realm supposedly having a new ruler now, one whom showed up just a few months ago and was the one to have 'brought about a revolution'; strengthening the army, planning the tactics, everything.

Word also broke out about him being an excellent fighter, having defeated the entire Integrity Knights order. Of course, that could have simply been news overexaggerated between women who liked gossiping, but rumours tend to hold true—and were they to fight on the war, how would they fare against anyone?

Well, things have gotten interesting, it seems.

'When will the Final Load test be, I wonder…' He thought again for a while, knowing that such would be the true moment for when they could properly siege the Human Realm and take over. 'I believe that it would be the seventh of November… At that time, that would be when we will…'

He moved a gauntlet-clad hand to shield his mouth, barely able to resist his mad grin. The thought of finding Alice and Eugeo, tasting their souls…

It made him excited deep down, and he so dearly wanted for the time to come soon.

"Oi, Iskahn. Have you tried breaking the ice before?" Asked Kubiri, scratching his chin as he gave him a sidelong glance. "I mean, just saying…"

"Yeah, I've tried, but they weren't kidding when they say it's hard. As in, seriously! The ice wouldn't even dent an inch," scoffed the young champion. "Those humans sure are getting smarter. I didn't think they'd be able to manage this sort of thing."

"Well, we will only have to wait for the moment when the Eastern Gate will collapse. By then, we will be granted entry, and then we can take down the Human Realm," spoke Lilpilin, crossing his arms. "We've been training our soldiers, so there's nothing that we need to worry for now."

"True, and time's still ticking. We have barely enough time before the moment will be upon us," sighed the other goblin.

PoH yawned into his hand, shaking his head to rid himself a little of his boredom. "So, anyways. You, is there anything else that we need to know about?"

The young lad from earlier was taken a little aback by being put under the spotlight all of a sudden, but managed to regain his calm quickly enough. "Err, right! Well, there hasn't been anything else of note, but… well, that's all there is, actually. We haven't been able to get any insight onto whatever else is going on with the Human Realm, milord. Our scouting parties haven't been able to discern anything else."

"That so..? Interesting," everyone looked back to Vector, whose face showed indifference. "I never assumed that the humans would be so smart… I'm genuinely impressed."

"You got that right," nodded PoH. "Well, with all of this out of the way, is there anything else to report, anyone? If not, let's get the hell out of here. I'm looking forwards to getting some training done."

Everyone nodded their assent and immediately dispersed, with Vixur and Lipia staying back for just a moment to discuss something before they left the room, with Vector being the sole person left in his own throne room.

He sighed, feeling like he really should have something to do in the meantime, or else he's just going to end up bored.

Perhaps… They have insects around here that he could experiment with?

Underworld, Dark Territory, Obsidia Palace, Training Quarters—10th September, Year 380 in the Time of the Realm of Humanity

Being the leader of a player-killing guild back in 'SAO' meant that he always had to look out for his back, in case someone was planning to assassinate him without him noticing.

In a place where he wasn't at the risk of getting attacked like right now, however, considering the fact that everyone here was his ally, he at least allowed himself to relax just slightly. Not enough to be completely lax, of course, because he couldn't be completely sure that no one wouldn't try anything.

Still, this place was dreary… Since the light of Solus doesn't really reach this place, there wasn't much light that they could rely on, so it was kind of hard to see. And the sky, even during the day, was a constant blood red, reminding him of the doomed fate the people of this land had to bear with for years.

'At least using this SuperAccount gives me night vision,' he thought with a grin, able to kind of make out several things here and there. 'Now then, where is the place where they tra—Ah-hah! Here it is!'

The training quarters was a wide, spacious room that had smooth stone for floors and bricks for walls, meant to take multiple hits in case anything went awry. There were some practice swords kept in the back, but he wasn't planning on using those.

He unsheathed his enchanted obsidian blade, feeling as if the very definition of evil was seeping from its surface… It was an odd feeling, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Well, I always did use a meat knife in combat, but it technically counts as a sword," he muttered to himself, holding the grip of his sword with one hand. "Alright then… Hah!"

He moved forwards and swung it down, then shifted his foot to take a different posture, blade whistling through the air as he cut diagonally down, then forwards and drawn back, folding his arm sword inwards—

"«Vorpal Strike»!" He shouted, blade gleaming an ugly purple before he shot forwards a far distance, stopping after a while as he planted his foot into the floor, a small cloud of dust behind him. He swung towards his back in a horizontal semicircle, then brought it down in a powerful swing, cracking the floor upon contact. "Whoo… It's been too long. All I got to do was play with guns for a while, so…"

"Well, well! You ain't so bad."

"Hmm?"

His moment to himself doesn't last so long, as his attention is now focused on the young person leaning against the entrance to the training quarters, with a grin on his face that didn't seem so friendly to begin with.

It's the Tenth Champion of the Pugilists Guild.

"Glad you were entertained," snorted the Dark Knight, putting away his sword and lightly tapping his foot onto the floor. "So, what'cha here for?"

"Just curious, you know? I mean, it's not everyday that your Dark God shows up with a Dark Knight by his side out of the blue. It's suspicious at worse, a blessing at best," shrugged Iskahn with a tone that was far too casual for anyone. "I'm just glad that our Dark God and his Dark Knight are pretty strong. It would be depressing if otherwise."

"So, what? You came here to examine me?" Scoffed the older man.

No, there was no way this could have simply been him coming here just to chastise him or anything else. Rather…

It was a challenge. "I'm here to test my strength against you. What say you?"

PoH humoured the idea for a while before shaking his head, a small smirk on his face. He was going up against someone who used his fists to fight, and though he hadn't much experience against anyone who were martial fighters (after all, back in 'SAO', most people weld weapons like swords and axes), he has fought against Kirito.

And that guy had, at some points in time, used several «Martial Arts» skills. Even his «Composite» skills weren't things he could underestimate.

The swordsman in black… undoubtedly one of the most dangerous foes he's ever had to face. And definitely the most fun people he's ever had the chance to fight.

'And if he's here… Heh, it'll be so fun to finally kill him…' He snickered to himself in his mind before dispelling that thought. Soon. "Very well. If you want to fight me… Iskahn, I take it? I'll entertain you."

"Good response! I was worried that you would be too much of a coward to even accept my challenge," the fighter responded in turn, taking his position a few feet away. "Come then! Show me just how strong you are with your sword. Don't disappoint me, or else I'll start to think you're not worthy to serve Lord Vector."

PoH glanced at him for just a moment before drawing his sword for a second time, holding it before him and steadying his breath.

He had felt it from this kid before. He wasn't some child who was just playing around with martial arts just to please his parents.

This was a true fighter, a champion of his people.

Said champion was revving himself up by hopping on the spot, taking a deep breath and noisily letting it out as he suddenly pressed his right foot into the floor, breaking it as he thrusted his fists forwards in an antagonistic pattern, then steadied himself into a posture fit for the fight.

The knight and fighter stood against one another, silent and still, staring at one another for any signs as to whom was planning to move first…

Before PoH, embracing his killer's spirit, lowered himself with a fanged grin and lunged himself forwards. "Hrgha!"

He drew his sword and swung down as quickly as it could, intercepted by Iskahn's bare fist that seemed to smoke. He forced back the sword with all the power he could muster before moving his left fist, almost landing a fatal blow on PoH had he not jumped back in that moment.

The power he was exerting right now was certainly befitting an experienced fighter. Iskahn shot towards him in a rush with his fist drawn back, throwing an uppercut that almost grazed his cheek, feeling heat emanate from the skin of the figher. The dark knight manages to raise his fist quickly enough to deflect the attack, and then forced back as the champion initiates a rapid combo.

Each blow comes from just the left and right and front, yet the angle at which they come from are indeed enough to throw him off at certain points; uppercuts, simple thrusts, jabs and hooks—even so, PoH never lost his ability to remain calm, forced to act accordingly to avoid getting hit.

With each movement of his, PoH has to shift his feet, almost feeling as if he was losing the edge. And yet, his smirk remained in place, spinning in place and out of the trajectory of a blow as he sweeps his sword from the side, the sharp edge of his weapon threatening to cut into Iskahn's flesh. It got deflected from a well-timed kick, and PoH attempts an overhead swing once more, the power of «Incarnation» enchanting his sword with a wicked fuel.

The champion gritted his teeth and punches the sword in an uppercut to meet it straight on, the clash between fist and sword producing violet sparks until PoH managed to overwhelm his opponent for just a moment and knocked him back.

Both opponents grin at one another and move to clash yet again—

"Hoo boy, I thought you Humie's were weak, but that was a good display."

"You can definitely say that again."

"Hmm?"

The two pause in their battle as they see Kubiri and Hagashi enter the room, both of whom had grins plastered on their faces.

The champion eased himself, muscles relaxing as he looked at the two with a questioning look. It wasn't odd to see them together, but it was odd to see them here. "You two came here to train as well?"

"You bet'cha. For as strong as I am, can't ever be lax, or else we'll be lagging behind our own people, ya' know?" Snickered the mountain goblin, punching his fellow goblin's shoulder with enough strength that it could have killed an average human. "Plus, Kubiri here needs some fitness training. He's pathetic, I tell you."

"Oh, screw you, Hagashi! I'm as fit as they can get," scoffed the other goblin, crossing his arms. "You think I've been slacking off on my training? Hah! I'd bet you weren't even present for the early morning drills. Sleeping your ass off in your cave."

At that provocation, both goblins slammed their heads each other and began snarling—like children, PoH's mind supplied to him, all with Iskahn sighing and shaking his head in exasperation.

PoH blinked at this. So it's true; these guys were just as every bit of 'human' as they felt… Alive, breathing, full of emotions and desires, it was impressive.

And the fact that the people of Rath simply plan to have both these people and the ones in the Human Realm war against one another… What selfish assholes. Then again, it's not like he was complaining, because he sure as hell was going to have fun in the slaughterfest.

Side-tracked for just a bit, he managed to regain his thoughts before speaking up, his easy grin coming back on. "Hell, I'm bored. How about the four of us train for a bit? I'd like to see just what sort of weaklings I'm dealing with here."

"Hah! Not like you were faring well against me," snickered the young champion, both goblins ceasing their squabble in favour of joining the other two. "And the three of us will decide for ourselves whether you're fit to serve Lord Vector."

In turn, PoH's sadistic smirk came onto full display, a deep chuckle that reflected a part of his inner murderer. "Very well… Come and show me what you've got!"

Underworld, Dark Territory, Obsidia Palace, Vector's Room—10th September, Year 380 in the Time of the Realm of Humanity

It was hard to tell the time here. Unlike the Human Realm, which had the luxury of receiving Solus's light and their clocks which told them when was day and night, here, it was a constant darkness that befitted some hermit who preferred ever-black.

So really, when it was appropriately night time, the only thing that told him that it truly was night time was how it got darker than it could have possibly been, the blood-red sky finally turning black, and Vector was somewhat amused by this.

For a human like him who has lived with the Sun and the Moon, this new experience was odd. Add to that the fact that this place was so dark that he could barely see anything anymore was just breathtaking. So the people of this realm had lived their lives with this sort of darkness? Interesting.

He turned in for the night, entering his room that felt a little too posh for his tastes. He was certain that he could very well do without much of the expensive decorations, but for their Dark God, this was supposedly the least that they could do.

'Oh well,' he decided for himself, shutting the doors to his quarters and taking a seat on the foot of his bed. 'This would, at least, give me a nice rest. And speaking of rest…'

When he last saw PoH, the killer was supposedly tired after having sparred with some of the leaders. That shouldn't have been too odd, but the fact that he looked happy was certainly a surprise. Then again, he did have a love for fighting and killing, so the fact that he got to fight powerful opponents must have been nice for him.

Vector thought back to the first day that he had appeared in this world. All ten leaders and their respective clans had raced to the palace to bear witness to their Dark God, and they had all but offered their undying fealty to him once his orders were passed.

He can still remember it now… A month ago, when he had demanded that he wanted to wage war on the Human Realm. That he wanted their heads, that he wanted nothing but absolute death and destruction, that the Eastern Gate would soon break in a few months…

And all of them revelled in such a declaration, all shouting their determination to kill the humans and their loyalty for their Dark God.

He found it amusing, to say the least, that they were so willing to even place their faith in some being who just showed up out of nowhere one day, sitting on the massive throne in the throne room of which the doors were previously locked with some indecipherable magic. Was that idiocy? Was that blind loyalty? Was that desperation?

In the end, none of it mattered, as long as it furthered his goals; to capture both the Fluctlights called Eugeo and Alice, so he supposed that wasn't—

*Knock knock…*

"Hm?" His gaze shifted towards the doors, and he wondered whoever it could be at this hour; he doubted it was PoH since he looked exhausted and was really looking forwards to his bed. Could it be an assassin..? "Come in."

The doors opened slowly with a soft creaking sound, and he raised his brow.

This was…

"Milord," she greeted, bowing her head with a hand on her chest. "Forgive me for intruding…"

"What are you doing?" He asked, a look of indifference on his face that hid suspicion—this was Shasta's subordinate, a Dark Knight. Yet here she was, dressed in a thin, translucent gown that almost revealed her naked body along with lingerie meant to entice any man.

"I will be keeping you company tonight, milord," she answered—her name was Lipia, he remembered.

He raised a brow, but did not show off any confusion. "Is that so? On whose order?"

"No, I have come here on my own accord. It is my duty, milord," she continues, standing at the door and unmoving.

He respected this sort of discipline; her ability to somehow remain so calm as she was right now is a testament to the fact that she truly is a Dark Knight like no other.

He briefly entertained the thought of having her duel against PoH, if only to satisfy his inner question as to whom was stronger, before shaking that thought away. Right now was not the time.

"I see. If you say so then," he immediately leans back, resting his head on his pillow, arms crossed behind his head. A small sigh left his chest as he closes his eyes, 'relaxed' now.

On cue, the woman closes the doors behind her and moves towards him, her feet making no sound whatsoever. He could feel movement as the bed shifts underneath her weight, sounds of ruffling telling him that she was stripping herself…

*Shing..!*

"Kh..!"

"Hmph."

Years of military training allows him to effortlessly backhand her weapon hand, sending the knife she had drawn to stab him flying out of her grip and out of reach. With all the martial lessons he had taken in his life, he effortlessly grabbed her wrist and sent her vaulting over his shoulder, crashing into the bed with a grunt.

Quickly, he placed the weight of his leg over her chest, one hand keeping both her hands above her head while his other hand pressed his thumb over her throat, at a point where enough pressure applied would be more than enough to finally snap her neck.

"Lipia Zancale," he says her name with as blank of a tone that has become so natural for him. "Tell me, on whose orders is it for you to kill me?"

"No one..! This is my own decision!" She snapped back, her expression drawn in a defiant look that certainly showed just how vicious she was being.

"I'd believe you, yet I can't find myself believing you somewhat," blankly responded the man, looking straight into her irises. "Tell me, then. Why are you here to kill me? To make a name for yourself, as the one who had successfully killed the Dark God? Is that it?"

"Because..! It's for the greater good..!" She forced out, the pressure on her neck increased just a bit. "If you were to start this war, it will set history back a hundred years..! Two hundred years, even! We cannot turn back time into an age of oppression for the powerless..!"

"Hmm…" He didn't say much, thinking about her words. 'So, she's here for 'justice'…'

A sense of justice that is born out of her love for her people, and an understanding that what would come to be would inevitably set their world on a path of ruin for themselves.

He understood her, and yet…

Whatever thoughts he had earlier came to a grinding stop as he felt someone's presence, yet it did not leave him on edge whatsoever. Rather, he waited, and it didn't take too long before the doors started opening, revealing a groggy-looking PoH wearing whatever article of armour that he was able to don on such short notice, with his sword at his waist.

"Yo, Bro, I just needed to ask about some… Huh?"

"PoH, perfect timing. I require your help."

Lipia's eyes widened, forcibly trying to shake off the man on top of her, but found herself powerless to do anything than to struggle without any use.

PoH blinked at the dark-skinned woman, his attention (and Vector found this part quite impressive) not on her assets but rather her own eyes, before he then turned to look at Vector. "Bro. What the hell did I just walk into?"

"This woman, Lipia Zancale, a member of the Dark Knights, had attempted assassination on me," he answers simply, adding a little more pressure to prevent her from escaping. "And I require your assistance in… to put it simply, discipling her."

"Err… Oookay," that was so unexpected. Is he serious? Was he seriously asking him for his help with what he was thinking he was asking him for..? 'This is insane, but… Well, it's not exactly impossible.'

Heavens forbid him from ever admitting that he had zero experience in matters like this. He was a murderer, and he had all the fun in toying with people's lives, but never when it came to things like… like… this!

How in the world was he supposed to react to this?

Held down like this, Lipia felt violated, but she withheld any words she had to prevent herself from worsening the situation. She stayed as calm as she could, stared into the eyes of the other man, and sees nothing but confusion in his face. It didn't last long, however, as he lets his shoulders shrug.

"Sure, I suppose. First time for everything," he says in turn. "Let me grab some things for a quick moment. I don't know much about this stuff, but… hehe, I think I've an idea."

With that, he took his leave, his footsteps gradually fading as he left the quarters in search of whatever he needed. Lipia's breath hitched in her throat, a quiet concern that was beginning to build up in her heart…

And nothing but absolute panic wells up in her bosom now as his footsteps ring much louder than they had earlier, and in his hands, countless things—a whip, rope, a long strip of cloth and a knife sharper than what she's ever seen.

"Vector, mind gagging her for me?"

"Very well."

"What?! You will not—Mmmfhh..!"

She had little chance to even say more as the cloth from earlier had been forced into her mouth, Vector grabbing her lower jaw and forcing it open, thus making passage for him to stuff the cloth inside and mute her.

More movement from behind, and she starts panicking. Her breathing has picked up, and she tries once more to move, though with more effort than she had earlier—but nothing works.

And suddenly, her arms are tied, the knots sturdy and meticulous. Her legs are not free for long, too, as she finds herself uncomfortable and unable to move her lower limbs.

"What now, Bro? What'cha want me to do?" He had no hesitation now, only interested in what direction this could possibly go.

Vector moves away from the bed, now simply leaning against the wall and arms crossed as he stares at the woman's body on the bed, looking pathetic as she did. Some part of his mind wondered as to whether PoH had practiced this sometime before, maybe a long time ago, but he decides to push it aside for now.

"Do what you will. As I've said, I've no experience, so I shall allow you to play with her to your heart's content," shrugged the Dark God, his face displaying no change in emotion.

But PoH emits a small laughter, just enough that it leaves the woman on edge. "You got it, Bro! Just watch, this one won't think about every trying to kill you ever again."

With that, he grabbed the knife that he had earlier. It was small, less suited for a weapon and more for surgery operations, but it possessed a beautiful sharpness to it that PoH couldn't help but be enthralled by.

If only his own sword were this sharp, he would have no problem in cutting down Kirito. That was all that his heart desired at this point, and to make him suffer even further; by cutting down all those that he loved in front of him, and watch him despair, cry—

'Not now,' that was just a dream, but he wished to make that a reality. No, he will make it a reality. And for now, he will play with this life, just as he was asked. "Alright-y then, lady. Get ready, because trust me, this is going to hurt."

Emphasis on such a fear inducing promise has her beginning to move again, muffled begging from her lips going unheard as he simply pulls aside some of the cloth that tries to hide her back, revealing beautiful dark skin. She moves even more now, but he keeps her at her place with just one hand.

He eyes his knife with a strange glint in his eyes, a sadistic grin on his face as he moves it towards her back—

*Zk..!*

"Mmmfh..!" She cries out uselessly and begins to flail as a cold steel cuts her skin in one, swift stroke. She barely had a chance to feel it press against her back before the act had been done, drawing fresh blood that leaked down towards the area between her hips, pain spiking up so quickly it was almost unbelievable.

PoH doesn't stop, however. Before she could acquaint herself with this new pain, another wound is opened up, and she screams this time, the pain unbearable as he begins to cut more and more into her back. Horizontal, vertical, diagonal—no matter in whatever pattern that he cuts her, its pressure and swiftness leaves her a shaking mess.

His hands are quick, and he presses a little deeper into her flesh for a few slashes, pain shooting in her nerves and making her grit her teeth to the point that she could have ground them to dust.

More cuts are left into her body, and even the wounds that had been made aren't left alone; he cuts into them another time, deeper this time, slower, dragging out the pain for her nerves to be overwhelmed and allowing more blood to spurt.

Her gown is no longer a translucent purple, now a dark brown-red having soaked into the material and making it dirty, a sickening sweet metallic scent wafting in the air. She could have mistaken the silence to have been broken by a snort, but of whom it belonged to, she couldn't think of any.

This time, he moved over to the region below her shoulder blade, and he pushes down, deep. He drags the knife down slowly now, an agonizing pain that makes her muscles tense and tendons contract, water flooding her eyes and trailing down her cheeks, pressing herself as roughly as she could into the pillow to at least bear the pain as she screams as much as she could.

The slow movement—"MmghRH!" Is turned into one abrupt slash outwards, and she cries harder again. PoH is laughing now, pressing a thumb into that wound to draw out a scream, and it works. He pushes into the hole before stopping, wiping the blood against her arm.

"Don't worry, I didn't cut any important blood vessels. You won't die," he says, as if that was supposed to make her feel any better.

So many cuts across her back, one long gash across her waist, her shoulder suffering a deep slash and so many more—he takes a moment to appreciate the bloody art, actually impressed by his own work, then puts the knife just beside her face.

"That's the first part, onto the next one," he says, and he no longer sounds human. His bestial tone, more than the goblins and orcs, terrify her—not as much as the sound of a whip cracking beside her, its loud snap almost leaving her deaf had it been any closer. "Cheers to your second round!"

'N-No..! No more, plea—HhhrhaaAaa!'

One cruel stroke across her back leaves a widespread pain across her entire body, the wounds from earlier multiplying the pain she felt and more blood beginning to leak. The cloth in her mouth soaks her saliva, yet not enough to prevent some from escaping her mouth, getting into the pillow and mattress, making a wet mess of everything.

He cracks it again, and strikes her once more, and she screams again. PoH hits again, and again; it's a rhythm now, and he's purposely striking her at where the cuts were dealt, and the blood gets sent flying everywhere, and some stain the end of the whip. Her beautiful copper skin is turning dark, blue and black, swollen and red from the blood, and the cuts have started inflaming, feeling like someone had just subjected her to a continuous field of fire.

Her body starts to sweat, and any drop of fluid that so much graces a touch equal to that of a butterfly's flap of the wings against her open wounds are leaving her to scream even harder, the imaginary hissing in her ears growing louder with every minute passed.

Her hands ball tightly until her nails draw blood from her own palms, and her toes clench. She's trying hard to weather all this pain, but she finds her conviction slowly beginning to dwindle with each continuous blow. There is no chance for any of her wounds to seal, as the blow from the whip only tears them wider open.

There is no silence in the room. The night is too painful, and she's left to suffer the consequences.

'How long..?' She thought, her vision too blurry from all the tears she shed tonight that she didn't want to see anymore.

It's done. He had finally stopped, but even then, she wasn't sure what to feel about that. Her body feels weak, tired, the bindings around her hands and legs are painfully tight, and the areas of her skin have blistered, a hot red that burns hotter than any «Sacred Arts» she's been subjected to. She wanted all of this to stop. Not just the pain—she wanted to leave, to never see these men anymore, and simply never acknowledge their existence anymore.

These two… were monsters…

"Man, I worked up a sweat from all of this," the breath exhaled is accompanied by his arm moving to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. His gaze moved towards his companion, who hadn't budged an inch. "Think this is good enough?"

"…I cannot say. I personally have no experience in this sort of thing," shook his head the blond man. "Though it does seem like you've done quite a job. Now I ask you, what do you propose we do?"

They were both silent again, save for the raspy breathing from the woman. She closed her eyes, and whatever punishment they saw fit to lay upon her, she barely cared. As long as she wouldn't let slip any information that endangered Lord Vixur's life, then that was all she desired.

She had come here to carry out a mission. To bring forth the future both she and her lord desired, and nothing would ever make her regret doing this.

There was nothing that they could—

"Let's call her an exile, and throw her over to the Human Realm. Leave her to the demons."

"Ahh, an interesting solution. You truly are a devil."

'Nngh..!'

Such an absurd suggestion suddenly spurs her back awake, and she attempts to move again, but the stinging in her back, wrists and legs drains her energy quickly.

A sharp gasp leaves her throat when he suddenly slaps her thigh, directly where a sealing wound was located, a dark chuckle leaving PoH's lips. "Hey, hey! What's there to worry? You'll be fine…"

She wasn't convinced whatsoever.

Underworld, Dark Territory, Obsidia Palace, Throne Room—11th September, Year 380 in the Time of the Realm of Humanity

"Rise, everyone," his command reverberated throughout the entire throne room like some sort of alarm, and everyone heeded his words, standing and giving him their full attention.

PoH eyed his companion silently and then looked away.

"Before you begin your reports, I would first like to make an announcement," he tells them, knowing that they had become curious. "Just last night, there has been an attempted assassination for my head. To put it simply, they have failed. I shan't reveal their identities, only because there is no use now; they are gone."

The implications of what he had done to the person leaves them somewhat concerned, with a certain someone suddenly going tense.

Everyone were muttering amongst one another, wondering about whom it was, before they were silenced by Vector raising his hand. He took a moment before speaking once more. "Let it be known that they have not been killed. Rather… they have been punished, exiled, and thus removed from our ranks. Disposed… into the Human Realm."

Thrown into the Human Realm. Such a godawful fate that awaits this traitor elicits gasping from a few of them, and PoH silently laughed to himself, finding amusement in all the reactions there were.

Vector's eyes are cold, blank, and soulless. "Let this be a warning to all of you. You may try all you want to kill me, and you could even bring an army… but know that you will only suffer in the end. I shall consume you, and you will be nothing more than a passing memory. Remember that well, and you may just be spared at the end of it."

Dark God Vector rules with a cruel hand, and none of them dared to fight back.

Author's Notes:

First time for everything, including writing a torture scene. That was butchered greatly, and worse than what happened to Lipia in the cannon timeline.

At least she died, and not get tortured like this. Damn, this chapter is going to trigger so many people. Hoping for no police outside my door or anything (o_O).

Aaaanyways, this isn't the end for her, of course. Next chapter, we'll be seeing her again, though with a familiar face that has gone unmentioned for a lot of chapters, actually. And introducing a character yet to come out, but shoosh! Spoilers!

That's all there is for now. Not much. I'll say more for next chapter.