NABC Chapter 1115: A Shadow of One's Former Self
Chapter 1115: A Shadow of One's Former Self
A shockwave of agony reverberated through his being.
In that harrowing moment, where pain mingled with disbelief, the chilling tendrils of mortality coiled around his heart—whispering of imminent demise. Even though mortality had gripped, the Executor before, another realization settled in his mind.
Regardless of what he did now, he couldn't win against the Royal Black Prince.
His will was stripped away completely at that realization.
Living as the epitome of strength, surrounded by the elite echelons of power throughout his entire life, the Executor had scoffed at the notion of mortality or even defeat. He was a titan among mortals.
But the sight of his severed arm that was spat to the side, the veil of invincibility shattered.
It revealed the fragile vulnerability beneath the mask.
As the Executor's gaze fixated on the crimson cascade of his own blood—a sickening feeling gripped his stomach with a vice-like intensity. In all his years of wielding power, killing others in cold blood, he had never flinched, never wavered at the sight of blood.
But now, at the sight of his own blood seeping from his torn flesh, he was overwhelmed.
"Gargghhk!"
Covering his mouth, the Executor's eyes widened when he instinctively vomited.
Even throughout thousands of years—he didn't know that he had the capacity to vomit.
Such human traits never appeared before, but it all poured out against Rex.
Upon witnessing the unsightly sight, Rex looked at the Executor and tilted his head, he didn't expect to see such a reaction from the Executor. But—this made the Executor's coddled past even clearer if he was not used to seeing his own blood.
Just as Rex said earlier, he truly has never felt his life threatened in every battle he took.
However, that changed completely in this battle.
It was iniquitous of him, but the sight of the Executor's pitiful sight crept a grin to his lips.
Rex obviously enjoyed seeing the Executor crumbling before him.
"Seems like the System didn't make the wrong choice of choosing me instead of you"
"Take a look of yourself now" He mocked ruthlessly.
But even mocked, the Executor doesn't seem to be listening.
A tempest raged within the Executor's mind at the sight of Rex returning his focus.
He focused on Rex's glowing pair of carmine eyes—that seemed to pierce through, the fabric of his being, stripping away all defenses and leaving him vulnerable to the merciless predator that now loomed before him.
Fear spiraled into terror.
"Hahh..."
The Executor's heavy breaths quickened, each exhale a desperate plea for escape.
Going down, he was then met with the sinister grin that stretched across Rex's bloodstained lips and fangs—a display of the atrocities he did earlier that masticate the Executor's resolve—fracturing his once unbreakable spirit.
"Haah..."
If the Executor survived this ordeal, the haunting sight of Rex would haunt his dreams.
A constant reminder of the terror he had faced in the presence of true power.
"Haaarrggghh!!" the Executor suddenly screamed, fear could be heard clearly in his voice.
Just like that, his once-proud facade crumbled—replaced by terror as he turned around.
Abandoning his once dear trait, pride, the Executor tried to escape.
A poignant display of the humbling he had received in the face of an overwhelming enemy.
Every labored step that he took—blood from his severed arm splattered against the ground, muddling his thoughts into a chaotic whirlwind, leaving room for nothing but the prospect of escape. His movements, once prideful and assured, devolved into a stumbling retreat, each faltering step painting a picture of pitiful desperation.
In the eyes of those who bore witness to his ignominious flight, he was not the same entity.
He could sense the thick kingly energy of a Werewolf coming from this portal.
An energy that could only mean one thing.
Under his gaze, a pair of red eyes appeared as Rex stepped out of the portal menacingly.
Even though Rex was teleported into the realm of chaos directly—before the Executor's very eyes, Rex came back without a shred of difficulty. Being teleported, forcefully to the realm of chaos only bought barely a minute.
"How?!! How are you here!!" the Executor shouted, coughing blood amidst his sentence.
Fighting Rex was an exercise of mentality, he was relentless to the core.
In the height of frustration—he pounded the ground repeatedly with his sole hand, he was so close to the edge—with the tantalizing promise of escape within reach. If only he gained one, or two seconds, he would be able to escape.
Had he gained a few more seconds, then everything would have been fine.
However, teleporting Rex away was not a smart move.
The Executor failed to consider one important thing, and that is the backer behind Rex.
Possessing the backing of the Countess—he could easily go into the Twilight Realm, a native dimension belonging to the Countess from anywhere. Being inside the realm of chaos did not hinder this process, and he could easily escape.
After reaching the Twilight Realm, Rex could seamlessly go back to reality.
Just like that, the Executor was cruelly denied by reality.
Rex stood in his path to survival—frustration, fear, and anger boiled within.
But as Rex's presence loomed over him—a profound transformation happened to him.
Every emotion he had merged and turned into despair, and in the depth of it—mercy came to be—and tears streamed freely from his eyes. "Please," he pleaded and began to sob. "I don't want to die. Let me go. I will admit that you're right and promise that I will never touch you or any of those close to you. I'm done, just let me go..."
Stripped bare of pride and pretense, the Executor begged for salvation.
He prayed that amidst the height of the moment, a flicker of compassion would surface.
"I've given you mercy before, so please return the favor this once," He continued.
Upon hearing this, Rex looked down on him with the same stoic expression.
"Okay, as long as you promise to leave me and mine alone—I'll give you a second chance"
"After all, everyone deserved a second chance, right...?"
Despite being caught off guard—the Executor groveled earnestly, clinging to the glimmer of hope that he could survive. He was desperate, but he saw a potential opportunity. 'Just you wait,' he vowed internally. 'I'll repay everything you've done today tenfold. I'll slaughter your entire pack and strip their skins before killing you.
After the First Breath—I'll reclaim my true power, and then you'll have no chance'
Just as he thought of that, Rex stomped him by the head, cracking the ground.
"Is that what you expected me to say?" He asked savagely.
Rex doesn't know what was inside the Executor's mind, but there's no way he's going to give the Executor a chance. "You speak as if your promise is worth something, Fifthborn. Did you forget? I sent Gistella to you—and I know that you promised her to not kill me but cripple me instead, but did you fulfill that promise...? No."
It baffled him to think that the Executor flaunted his promise as if he was going to keep it.
Nothing would make Rex believe or consider his promise as something.
Crack!
Putting more force into stomping the back of the Executor's head, Rex continued—laughing maniacally with a sinister edge. "How low can you get—Fifthborn? Your promise holds not a shred of weight. Should you succeed in killing me, I've no doubt you'd slaughter Gistella and the others. So, spare me your pleas for mercy, you won't get it. Your fate is sealed."
Upon hearing this, the Executor's heart made a heavy thump.
He began crying again, but this one seemed even more genuine than the one earlier.
Even then, Rex showed no mercy.
With a gaze heavy with disdain—Rex peered down at the Executor—recognizing that he only fell to this state because of the threat of death. Steeling his will, Rex leaned down—his voice a whisper that seemed to penetrate the very core of the Executor's being.
"Go on and apologize... Apologize for existing in my era"