Chương 245: Chapter 245
Muylel, the God King, sat in his throne room, staring out over the valley below. His castle loomed high above the ruins of a once-great city, now abandoned and broken. The air was thick with the smell of decay, a reminder of the world's slow decline. Below him, the remnants of human civilization lay scattered like forgotten toys, waiting to be forgotten entirely. He detested them, these fragile beings. Their presence, their laughter, their voices, all of it disgusted him.
He'd watched them for centuries, from the quiet moments of joy to the bloody wars that erupted over petty reasons. He'd seen their love and hatred, their desires and fears, and none of it stirred anything within him. To Muylel, they were like insects, insignificant in their short lives, squirming and struggling until their inevitable end. He could not fathom why they existed, why they continued to breathe when their only purpose was to destroy themselves.
Tonight, as the wind howled through the cracked windows, Muylel sat in silence, his thoughts darkening further. He had grown tired of them, these humans. Their time had come. He would rid the world of them, once and for all.
The decision had been made long ago. Muylel had waited for the right moment, for the time when the humans' fragile existence could be snuffed out with the slightest effort. He had studied their weaknesses, their fears, their futile attempts to escape death. He had seen them believe they could change, that they could grow better, wiser, but Muylel knew better. He had watched them for too long to believe in such lies.
He stood from his throne, his cloak trailing behind him like a dark wave. The time had come.
As he moved through the darkened halls of his castle, he could hear the sounds of the few remaining servants, their footsteps echoing in the distance. They had been his loyal followers, those who had come to worship him. But now, they were no more than tools, pawns in a game that would soon come to an end. They would be the first to go. They had served their purpose, and now they were nothing.
Muylel reached the grand door that led to the outer courtyard. Beyond it lay a wide expanse of cracked stone and a series of broken statues, relics of past kings who had once ruled these lands. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the sky was darkened by clouds that seemed to stretch on forever. He stepped into the open, his eyes scanning the horizon.
There. In the distance, he saw it: a small village, nestled at the base of the mountain. The humans. They had lived there for years, and they had always known of his presence. They feared him, but fear was not enough to stop them. They were weak, pathetic.
Muylel's hand twitched, and the earth beneath his feet trembled in response. The ground cracked open, and from the fissures rose a dark mist, swirling around his feet like a living thing. The mist began to spread, creeping slowly toward the village. The humans would feel it soon, feel the pull of the God King's power. They would understand that their time was over.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the power that surged through him. His mind reached out, like a predator hunting its prey, and soon the village was within his grasp. He could sense the fear of the people, their anxiety as they went about their meager lives, unaware of the doom that was coming for them.
He smiled, cold and cruel. This was the moment he had waited for. The moment of their final reckoning.
The mist spread faster now, wrapping itself around the village, slithering between the houses and streets. The humans began to scream, their terror palpable as they tried to flee. But there was no escape. The God King's power was inescapable.
As the mist enveloped the village, the sounds of chaos rose to a deafening crescendo. People ran, stumbled, fell. The air was filled with the cries of the dying, the pleading of those who knew it was too late. Muylel could hear it all, their desperation, their futile attempts to survive. And he felt nothing.
He stood on the mountain's edge, watching as the life drained from the village below. He could feel the power of the mist as it suffocated the last of their will to fight, the last breath of humanity. He could feel the lives snuffed out, one by one, as the mist consumed them.
When it was over, the village was nothing more than a graveyard. The mist dissipated, and Muylel looked down upon the ruins with cold satisfaction. The humans were gone, their existence erased from the world. But even as he stood victorious, something tugged at the edge of his mind, a question that had always lingered, unanswered.
Why did it feel empty?
Muylel turned away from the valley, the weight of the thought settling on his shoulders. The victory was hollow. He had erased them, but he hadn't found what he was looking for. There was no satisfaction in their destruction, no joy in the empty silence that followed.
The God King had rid the world of humans, but in doing so, he had erased everything that once mattered. He stood alone now, in a world devoid of life, devoid of meaning.
The feeling crept up slowly, like a creeping cold. He was empty.
But he would not let it show.
He made his way back into the castle, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The servants had gone silent, their presence no longer needed. The halls were now a monument to his victory, to his power. Yet as he moved deeper into the castle, he found himself in the same place he had always been.
Alone.
The throne room loomed before him, empty and cold. He sat upon the throne, the same throne that had once been a symbol of his reign, his power. But now it felt nothing more than a seat in a dead world.
Muylel stared ahead, his eyes vacant. He had destroyed the humans, but in doing so, he had destroyed himself. He had wanted to rid the world of their existence, but now he was the one who was lost.
The God King Muylel had won, and yet he was the only one left. The victory had brought no peace, no satisfaction. There was only silence.
It was then that Muylel realized the true horror: he had erased humanity, but in doing so, he had erased the one thing that had given him meaning. There was nothing left to rule, no one left to crush. The world had become a hollow shell, a place where even gods could feel the sting of emptiness.
The doors of the throne room creaked open, and Muylel turned, his heart heavy with an emotion he could not name. But there was no one there. Only the empty hallways beyond. The world had become a cold, silent tomb.
And as he sat alone in his throne, the God King Muylel knew one final, brutal truth: he had destroyed the humans, but in doing so, he had destroyed himself.
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