(8) 109: Titles are hard to think up
972 4 9
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

The feeling was exhilarating, electrifying even, as Stanis ran his eyes over each of the members one by one. The way they flustered, the way they looked down, the way their fear sprouted into the world… He could tell from the smell of toasted skin wafting from below him that he had ruined his own show, but at the same time, he didn't care. He wasn't a diplomat, no, he was more than that.

He reached down and picked up Drak's body with one hand. He lifted it to eye-level and scrutinised the corpse. The smell, the sight, it was all horrible. Pulling his shoulders back, he flung the corpse behind his back before lobbing it at the wall.

*thump*

Despite their desire to look at the state of the corpse, none of the people inside the hall turned their eyes away from Stanis. He, in response, snorted at their fear.

"Who is the strongest here?"

Several heads turned to Drak, finally relieved by the fact that they were no longer courting death by doing so. Other heads turned towards David, while others turned towards Xin, as well as a healthily-tanned woman from the portly man's group with bright, red hair.

Stanis followed each gaze and judged each of the champions, gritting his teeth harder after each judgement.

"Too weak," he said. "You will all die,"

The groups of people reacted differently to his statement. Some reached for their weapons, before hesitating as they remembered the offence Stanis had taken at Drak's armament. Some didn't even react, easing themselves before the inevitable slip into death's own embrace. But to Stanis's interest, a few people armed themselves and held onto their weapons, despite the lack of public support.

"You will all die in a week," he finally clarified, chuckling as he lowered himself into Drak's seat.

He crossed his legs and relaxed his shoulders onto the backrest. "One week and enemies my strength will flood the world. I will live, but you will not,"

"So," he paused. "I will lead this village, and all of you will follow me."

Another uncomfortable shift passed through the hall. Stanis knew that what he was doing was putting people off, but at the same time, he had to show that he wasn't here to take shit from them. However, at that very moment, the most important fact he had been musing upon for the last few days finally came to fruition: he might be able to survive the apocalypse that was coming, but he definitely wouldn't be able to thrive afterwards. Humans were social creatures, and isolating himself wouldn't lead to success even in a thousand years.

"But, if you want to leave, be my guest. Just don't forget while you're being torn apart that you ran away from the strongest human on Earth. Just don't forget while you're waiting for death that you had you dug your own grave. Just don't forget," he paused. "that you could've lived…"

A cold and vicious silence took hold of the hall, usurping the throne. And it was clear that it was here to stay as Stanis looked comfortably around the room while the others pondered inside of themselves. Even after they had come to their own answers, no one spoke for fear of being the one to break the silence.

Eventually, Stanis closed his eyes and sat in his seat peacefully. He sat there with nothing on his mind; the blood he had drawn in the past few seconds didn't disturb him whatsoever. But all good things must come to an end, and this turned out to be the case with the silence.

"How do you know this?" Alyona asked, her voice raspy and wet around the edges.

"Because I am tier-four," Stanis answered as he opened his eyes and stared at her. From just a few seconds of looking at her appearance, he could tell the heart-wrenching story that must have taken place between her and Drak while he had been away. Not that he cared though, she had only made her own battles harder for herself.

"And how can we trust you?" the portly man asked. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched and Stanis found himself laughing out loud in the next second, half-due to his voice and the other half due to the question.

"Because I'm strong,"

The portly man shifted in his seat and looked at Stanis with all the sternness he could muster up.

Stanis sighed internally but kept his mask expressionless. "You don't have to listen to me, but time waits for no one. And none of you have much time in your hands in the first place."

Alyona gulped before taking another shot in the dark. "Can we at least talk?"

"Ha-ha, I won't murder you for talking about your fates," he replied. "Maybe,"

His ever-so-ungrateful audience shifted in their clothes at his beautifully-crafted joke. The talks between the groups didn't last long as no one dared to mouth a directly opposing argument to Stanis's. Thus, it wasn't a long wait till he got his first answer,

"We will join you," Alyona said.

Stanis raised his eyebrows in response and turned his attention to the portly man. "Ugh-hem. We will also join you,"

Finally, after seconds of internal battle, the raucous laughter locked up in his stomach made its way out. He chuckled and waved his hands in expansive gestures. "Excellent,"

He pointed at the Jaguars. "Go back and tell Serb to come back with the whole pack,"

They nodded in response and immediately made their escape from the hall, sprinting the second they got out of the door. He had changed.

"Now, tell me everything that's happened," Stanis said while pointing at Alyona. "And be snappy about it, we don't have much time to play about with,"

"Umm." Alyona flustered under the spotlight as she thought back to everything that had happened. ‘She hadn't been like this' Stanis thought.

"I can tell you," Jayesh finally offered. The wizened Indian man seemed to have aged several years in the minutes Stanis had been here. And yet, from the start of Drak's slaughter in broad daylight to the current moment, he was also the one who had reacted the least to Stanis's theatre. Instead, he had watched it all with a borderline grateful expression.

"Go ahead," Stanis said. He didn't look at Sil as he said this, only Jayesh.

"After you left, the blacksmiths you had blessed skyrocketed. They began teaching others and we began winning the war with Haven. More people began immigrating here as time passed, and soon we reached a stalemate with Haven, but then the village fractured. The stalemate was beneficial for both of our villages so some of us wanted to keep it as it was, but others wanted to push onwards and clean up Haven.

Drak won, and we shifted our focus from winning the war to improving the village,"

Stanis raised a single eyebrow at this. From what he had heard of Haven, it was certainly not a pleasant place to be. And yet Jayesh had aligned himself with Drak, despite his moral compass being at total odds with Haven. Or maybe it no longer was?

Jayesh didn't break eye-contact at Stanis's response, nor did he back down in any visible way. He instead carried on the story as if nothing had happened.

"Richie came to the village at that point," he said while pointing at the portly man. The portly man bowed his head at Stanis in response, showing off his balding head in all of its glory. "And Moonshine worked with Rikkey, making the defences that are now around the village," Jayesh said while pointing at the redhead woman.

"Moonshine," Stanis spluttered out, snorting at the name. "What is your name?"

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce it," the tanned, redhead responded. While her actions and words were polite, they were also soaked in poison.

Stanis's heart fluttered but he managed to keep his body still. He wanted to, but he knew not to. "Moonshine it is then," Stanis said expressionlessly. However, the way he gripped the arm-rest didn't escape anyone's eyesight, especially Moonshine's who looked at the squeezed, wooden block with interest.

"And then," Jayesh carried on before Stanis could impart another word, "you came."

"What a story!" Stanis said with a dead tone. "And now that's all over, tell me who's actually the strongest in the village," he said while pointing at Richie.

The layers of neck fat shook as Richie raced his head for the right answer, before finally coming up with an innocuous one.

"You are, Stanis?"

"Yes, I am Stanis. Yes, I am also the strongest," he confirmed, "but who's after me?"

"In my humble opinion, it would have to be Caleb or Orena," Richie answered. "Following them would be the men and women you see in here, especially the talents such as Moonshine, Sil, Xin, Jayesh, Ji-yeon—"

"Yes, do you want to list everyone here in the room?" Stanis asked.

Riche quickly sensed the hole he been in the process of digging and quickly backtracked. "Of course not, good sir. Just that everyone in here are the strongest."

"Well, certainly not." Stanis ended, giving both a writ of freedom and a bounty for death to Richie at the same time. "But worry not, I'll make sure you all reach an acceptable standard"…

9