The hooded man bought me into a large space.
The vast space resembled a colosseum, with an ominous altar at its center. The players huddled in one corner, while the cultists stood by, intently observing the sacrificial ritual.
"N-No! P-Please wait!"
"Shut up!"
"Aaackk!"
One of the captives was dragged toward the center of the stage. With his powers as a player sealed, he could only scratch feebly at the sand, leaving faint marks as the cultists showed no mercy.
The hooded cultists tied the captive to the altar and hurriedly retreated to the crowds where they came from.
Thud! Thud!
In the next moment, the Executioner was seen approaching the man with a giant weapon of execution.
"No! No! No! No! Stay away from me!"
The man screamed in terror, thrashing desperately, but he couldn't break free. The Executioner ignored his despair and raised the oversized kitchen knife high into the air like a guillotine.
And then...
[Execution Lv. 10 has activated.]
Swish!
... brought it down in a smooth motion.
In an instant, the man was beheaded cleanly and his head powerlessly flew into the air, spinning like a bamboo dragonfly.
Blood flowed from the opened neck and slowly seeped into the altar.
Rumble!
The altar began to hum with a low, vibrating sound as it absorbed the blood, and casted a faint red glow across the room. At the same time, the hooded cultists repeatedly mumbled a chant in a language that I couldn't understand.
A chilling aura enveloped the entire space as if the atmospheric temperature had dropped by several degrees. All the other players shifted uncomfortably infront of that overwhelming violence, some turning pale, while others struggled to keep their composure.
"Kuak!"
"Ugh!"
Some even puked their guts out while others lost control and wet themselves. They already knew their fate. They were here to die as sacrifices in a ritual for a purpose they did not even know.
I frowned at the players who had lost their will to live.
Had these people completely given up already? Are they really that fragile? What am I even thinking? Not everyone has a 'Wall' to shield them or the strength of spirit to endure this.
"Tch."
I clicked my tongue.
Regardless, trying anything with these people was pointless. Helping them even felt like a burden.
But the blame wasn't theirs to bear. The real villains were the ones sacrificing them as offerings to a Witch.
[Many of the constellations that loves violence are becoming excited for the slaughter.]
The constellations watching the scene like some twisted form of entertainment were at fault as well.
"Next!"
A sudden shout echoed through the hall as two cultists dragged a woman toward the altar. Unlike the man before her, she was brutally mutilated— her fingers and toes severed, leaving her screaming in agony as her blood seeped into the altar.
"ARRRGGHHHH! IT HURTS! PLEASE NO!"
She continued to scream and thrash around for a long time before her body finally went limp.
After all her blood was drained from her body, the cultists hurriedly removed her corpse from the altar and tossed her aside like a broken doll that had served its intended purpose.
"N-NO! SOMEONE SAVE ME!"
Then they brought another player to that stand and killed that person too, in a different manner and extracted all the blood from the body.
One by one, the players were dragged to the altar and suffered the same fate, but they weren't killed the same way as the previous person.
If one person met their end by decapitation, the next would be strangled by a rope, while another would be impaled by sharp spikes. Some were even nailed by their limbs to large wooden stakes, fashioned in the shape of a cross.
The endless cycle of violence was so sickening that even I felt like vomiting.
[The constellations are disgusted by the senseless slaughter.]
[The constellation, Judge of War and Wisdom urges you to stop the senseless slaughter.]
The constellations urged me to act, but I had to hold back. Despite my feelings, I needed to wait a few more minutes for my preparations to take effect.
At that moment, an unexpected message appeared infront of me.
[A constellation has established their authority.]
What?
[A Sub Fable is being generated.]
+
[Sub Fable ### — Owl of Justice]
Type: Sub
The man's gaze wavered, as if he could not understand. "Role? What nonsense are you spouting?"
Still smiling, I moved closer and the man flinched backwards as if he had sensed something amiss. But even if he'd realized it, it was already too late.
My maniacal smile widened even further. "Nonsense, is it? I suppose you're right. It's impossible for me have the protagonist's role. But can't I just take another role that suits me better? By the way, have you heard of something called divine retribution?"
"What?"
I raised the revolver hidden in my clothes and the hooded man's eyes widened to the maximum.
"Wait—"
Before he could utter another word, my index finger squeezed the trigger, and unleashed a blinding flash of light from the barrel.
Bang—
His head jacked back upon impact, and his body collapsed to the ground, folding in on itself like a shattered lily.
Silence followed afterwards.
At the crack of gunfire, every head whipped in my direction. This was no trivial matter. Both cultists, and players alike turned to stare, their eyes locking onto me in unified shock.
What did I do in such a situation?
Step—
I took a step forward.
Just a single step was all it took for the cultists to snap back to their senses and fully grasped the situation.
"He has a weapon!"
"Stop him!"
"Executioners!"
Finally, the executioner started to move. It wasn't just one, but dozens of giant figures wearing the pyramid head appeared. The most terrifying aspect of the Fifth Fable was that there wasn't a single Executioner but an entire legion. In a scenario where all powers and skills were sealed, they were a living nightmare, and every one of them fixed their predatory gaze on me.
One of the cultists shouted with confidence. "You fool, you dare interrupt the most sacred ceremony!"
"I don't like what I don't like, and I despise what I hate."
"What?"
"I don't like this ritual, so I stopped it. What's so hard to understand there?"
"This insolent fool... Executioners! kill this man!"
At the command, the Executioners closed in and swung their weapons in unison. Some players closed their eyes while others sighed bitterly.
They clearly thought I was as good as dead.
I couldn't blame them.
No doubt, some of them had tried to resist the Executioners only to be crushed in the end. But I only smirked at the descending weapons.
It should be around this time.
[The item 'Explosive Pills' has activated.]
Kwakwakang!
The ground shook tremendously and flames emerged from beneath the earth.
They were bombs shaped like pills set to activate based on precise calculations of the sewer's location and water flow. The only drawback was that it took about ten minutes to detonate. However, that drawback was also included in my calculations.
I was grateful I had taken the time to speak with that hooded cultist.
"ARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!"
"BUUUUURRRRNNNN!! IT BURRRRNNNNS!!"
One by one, the black apostles were engulfed in flames. Even the Executioners were caught.
Even if they were protected by the story, that didn't mean they wouldn't be burned.
In fact, they weren't indestructible.
If you punched them, they would feel pain. If you stabbed them with a knife, they would bleed. A story's main character might have plot armor, but does that mean they are invulnerable to harm?
Not at all.
The only reason the Executioners seemed indestructible was that they couldn't be killed directly by players. But what happens when they are eliminated through indirect means?
For example, drowning.
Crack! Shatter—
The ground beneath the Executioners crumbled, sending them plunging into the rushing stream of sewage below.
How long had it take?
In no time, the expected steam of messages appeared.
[A god's agent has been eliminated.] Find exclusive stories on m_v l|e-novelhall.net
[A god's agent has been eliminated.]
[A god's agent has been eliminated.]
[...]