Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel - Chapter 617

Chapter 617: Memory Is Missing
Under Manu’s unyielding command, the Vandora Kingdom swelled like a storm tide, sweeping over lands and devouring territories. One by one, neighboring kingdoms fell to his relentless conquest. Naturally, Chanland Kingdom was absorbed, then again, it had been under Chiron’s rule in secret. Its banners and sovereignty where erased.

The proud Highlands that had easily suffered from Chiron’s visit and now broken followed, as their ancient mountains were overtaken by the Vandorian forces.

Even the Holy Church, a power unto itself, yielded in desperation, conceding the sprawling Beast Kingdom to Manu’s dominion. All in an effort to please Manu Madayaki.

Though the Church still trafficked creatures under his indifferent gaze, the Beast Kingdom’s lands and name now belonged to the growing Vandora Empire.

The new empire’s flag—a stark white serpent with six vast, feathered wings against a black field—soon flew over all captured territories, striking awe and fear alike.

Vandora was no longer a kingdom; it had transformed into an empire whose reach extended across the entire continent of Almace, touching every tribe, clan, and country. Manu’s influence seeped into every corner like a chilling mist, leaving no room for resistance. Any leader or faction that dared defy his reign found themselves crushed beneath the weight of his power, serving as brutal examples to others who might have harbored rebellion.

The Vandorian army advanced like a deadly machine, outfitted with cutting-edge Tesseracts that Manu had personally enhanced through his mastery of the Fate Change System.

These new Tesseracts were empty of previous weaknesses; they became lethal instruments of war. Improved offensive capabilities allowed them to unleash volleys of spiritual energy, leveling fortresses and shattering enemy lines with merciless precision.

Entire clans were obliterated in the wake of his conquest. The brave but small Ashkel clan of Axes tried to stand against him, drawing upon centuries of spiritual scrolls and elixirs, summoning ancient powers with fierce desperation.

But the Vandorian army swept through them like fire, shattering their defenses with a precision honed through superior techniques. Ashkel warriors fell one by one, each crushed by relentless Vandorian blades, their lands and ancestral halls reduced to smoldering ashes. The last of the Ashkel chieftains was left alive just long enough to witness his people’s destruction before being struck down.

Another fierce resistance, the Stormwood Clan, was known for their potent spiritual energy and cutting-edge technology. They forged energy barriers thought to be impenetrable, walls of power and light. Yet these, too, buckled beneath the Vandorian onslaught. The streets of Stormwood’s capital were drenched in blood as soldiers cut down every last defender, their blades humming with deadly resonance. By nightfall, the streets lay silent, haunted by the memories of the fallen.

For every land that dared to fight, Manu’s forces left behind a trail of ruin. The cries of the defeated became warnings, and soon whispers of his terrifying strength swept across Alsace. Yet those who surrendered willingly were spared, rewarded even, with positions within the new empire’s administration or gifts of wealth. To submit to Manu was to survive, and many found themselves bending the knee, choosing to live under his rule rather than perish as others had.

But for those who resisted, Manu’s empire was unrelenting, casting a shadow of total domination across Almace that would not be lifted. His empire was built on the bones of defiance, and his rule, cemented by the silence of the dead.

And as such, the fate change system had more fate points than it ever had before.

…

In the dim, opulent chambers of Manu’s fortress, the air was thick with the sounds of pleasure and power. Emma, Chiron’s succubus, writhed beneath his touch, her pale skin flushed with the energy she drew from him. Since his harrowing return from the Fog of Unbounded Demise, Manu found that her presence was the only relief from the dark corruption of LUST that clung to his soul like a second skin. Other women had come and gone, unable to soothe the shadow of that cursed place, but Emma’s supernatural essence—the demon, dark allure of her succubus blood—kept the darkness at bay, if only briefly.

At the height of her moans, just as the haze of desire gripped them both, Manu froze, his expression shifting in an instant. Emma looked up, surprised, her breath quick and shallow, only for her to watch him chuckle with the shadow of a smile.

“It seems,” he murmured, standing with calm, collected grace, “I have a guest.”

He wrapped a dark, simple robe around himself, pulling the fabric over his broad shoulders as he walked unhurriedly across the room. With each step, a silent authority emanated from him, an aura that left Emma breathless for more reasons than one.

Out on the balcony, the twin moons hung like spectral guardians in the night sky, casting silvered light across the empire’s banners and walls. Awaiting him on the stone railing sat a raven, but this was no ordinary creature of feathers and bone. Its eyes gleamed an unsettling, bloody red, reflecting the moons’ glow like pools of dark fire. The raven’s form seemed to shimmer as if woven from smoke, ethereal and ghostly, with feathers that released wisps of shadow with each slight movement. Its presence alone was thick with menace, the sort that made even seasoned warriors’ blood run cold.

Manu regarded it, his gaze impassive yet knowing. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging its identity with a faint, sardonic smile.

“Brother Smoke,” he greeted, voice low and laced with dark amusement, “so you finally visit.”

The raven’s eyes narrowed, its voice chilling as it spoke, each word like ice in the night air. “You are no brother of mine, Manu. Not anymore. Not since you abandoned your divinity.”

Manu only chuckled, a low sound filled with dark amusement. He leaned forward, gaze piercing as he studied the raven’s smoky form, recalling bitter memories of betrayal. “After ten thousand years in chains, this is the welcome I receive?” His smile faded, replaced by a glint of raw determination. “You and the others thought you could lock me away forever. But I’ve returned, and once my strength is restored, I’ll be coming for every last one of you.”

The raven tilted its head, an unsettling snicker escaping its beak. “Your vengeance is… expected, but your actions are unacceptable. You are upsetting the balance, Manu. Mortal realms are not for you to trample on whimsically. There are consequences for meddling—like another ten thousand years of imprisonment, or… worse.”

Manu laughed, the sound filled with an audacious certainty. “You think I don’t know the rules? A demi-god from another plane may not meddle in the destiny of a world not his own.” He placed a hand over his chest, towards his heart, “But I’ve claimed this body as mine, bound to this world now by blood and bone. This world is as much mine as any other. There’s no violation here.”

The raven’s red eyes flared momentarily, frustration hidden beneath a mask of composure. It knew Manu was right; as a being truly of this plane now, Manu was free to exploit it to his heart’s content.

“Perhaps,” the raven replied, the edges of its form shifting with barely contained energy, “but the gods of this world will not turn a blind eye to your plans, nor to the souls you plan to harvest. You may feel untouchable, but there are forces—powers, restrictions on every continent of this world, Almace included.”

Manu raised an eyebrow, amused. “If I didn’t know any better, Brother Smoke, I’d think you were trying to give me advice.” He smiled darkly. “But I’ll take it to heart, regardless. I’ve already anticipated what must be done to claim this world as mine, and once I’m finished, I’ll come for each and every one of you… especially you.”

The raven remained silent, feathers bristling with restrained fury as it held Manu’s gaze. Then, with a last flare of its smoky wings, it vanished into the night.

Manu frowned in worry…

Manu’s orders were swift, his voice sharp with uncharacteristic urgency as he commanded a Tesseract be prepared for immediate transport. The unsettling echo of the raven’s warning lingered in his mind, gnawing at him in ways he had not anticipated.

As the Tesseract thrummed to life, its runes glowing in intricate patterns, Manu stepped into it, his destination set to the Highlands—a land once rich with vibrant life and an aura of radiant energy that painted the skies in mesmerizing colors. In moments, he was transported across lands and skies, the Tesseract depositing him in the heart of the Highlands.

But what greeted him was far from the place he remembered.

The earth lay barren and cracked beneath his feet, the once fertile soil now dry and lifeless. Scorched grass stretched endlessly, its withered remains scattered across the desolate landscape. Manu’s frown deepened as he cast his gaze upwards, where once an aurora of shifting colors danced vibrantly across the sky. Now, it was empty—void of color, silent and bleak. An unnatural stillness hung in the air, thick and oppressive.

Manu felt a flicker of irritation, his eyes narrowing. The Highlands had once been a vital source of energy, a place bound to the elemental lifeforce that had always pulsed throughout Almace. And now, it seemed as though something, or someone, had drained the very essence from the land itself.

“This is no accident,” he murmured to himself…