The Crimson Mystic Legacy Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Single Evil

Read chapter 4 of The Crimson Mystic Legacy by CRIMODAS on NovelPedia.

Rathra stood up for a moment, gave a sigh and closed his eyes, "be right back" he mumbled before vanishing, like a grumpy teen before vanishing into their room. The floating boulder was quiet for a moment after Rathra's sudden disappearance. The only sound was Uzi's strained breathing as he tried to rise from the ground. The others circled around him, their eyes fixed on the god as if he were some rare prize on display. The first to break the silence was the short girl with the bright red-and-blue hair. Her mismatched eyes gleamed as she tilted her head and smiled, her voice soft but edged with mischief. "He looks so fragile," she giggled, swaying back and forth like a child playing with a doll. "What if we peel him apart piece by piece, see how long it takes before he cries for mercy? Ohhh, or maybe we use him as bait, leave him dangling somewhere until the others from this world come running to save him." Raidren, standing just a few feet back, kept his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, his calm tone cutting through her laughter. "You're too quick to play games. This one's no ordinary figure. He's worth more alive." The man clad in advanced technology chuckled under his breath, his voice refined and deliberate, as though every word was a speech. "Ah, but alive in what way, Raidren? That is the question. A being with authority over entry to this realm... Imagine what knowledge his essence holds. I could study him for years and still not uncover half his mysteries." His cannons shifted slightly, humming as if they hungered for use. "No, this isn't about mercy. This is about progress." The fox-woman crossed her arms, her mask glowing faintly as her tail flicked lazily behind her. Her voice carried a steady rhythm, calm but not without amusement. "Progress, destruction, torture, whatever you want to call it... I don't care. He's not mine, he's not anyone's. Do what you will." She tilted her head, her tone suddenly playful. "Though I'd like to see him talk more. Gods rarely speak their true thoughts unless they're cornered." A low, jagged laugh broke out from the final figure. The man with six floating rings twitched as his hands shifted nervously, his words spilling like broken glass. "Heehee... corner him, yes, yes, pin him down like a rat in the dark. Oh, but don't kill him yet, no no no, not yet. Carve his light, strip his voice, break his faith, make him beg. A god who begs!" He bent forward, grinning wide as the rings spun faster around his arms. "I want to hear it, the sound of divinity cracking." The girl clapped her hands, eyes lighting up as if his madness was a game. "Ooooh, that's a fun one. I like him. We could make Uzi sing for us before the end!" Raidren's voice cut in again, softer, but carrying more weight than any of theirs. "Enough. Rathra has a plan, and whether you like it or not, this god's fate isn't for us to decide." The group fell into uneasy silence, though their eyes never left Uzi. Each of them carried their own vision of what to do with him, but for now, only Rathra's word would matter. A ripple of dark smoke tore open the air once more. Rathra stepped out, dragging the back of his hand across his jaw. Dark stains clung to his fingers, glistening faintly before he flicked them away with little care. Scratches lined his forearm and cheek, though none looked serious. Raidren's calm voice was the first to break the silence. "You allowed yourself to be touched." His tone wasn't mocking, simply an observation, though it carried weight. The fox-woman tilted her head, her tail curling around her legs as her voice carried its soft, steady hum. "Hmph. Never thought I'd see the great Rathra marked by anything. This world must be sharper than it looks." The man of steel and cannons smirked, his tone elegant as ever. "To wear wounds at all is to admit imperfection. Though, perhaps even perfection needs contrast." Rathra gave a short laugh, brushing aside their words with a flick of his hand. "You chat