Saga of The Night God



"Hehehe," Erwin chuckled, relishing in Aston's discomfort. "Oh, relax, my dear friend. I was just pulling your leg. No need to look so terrified." He extended his hand and playfully patted Aston's chest, hitting the already injured area, causing Aston to wince in pain.

Aston's gaze sharpened, his attention fixated on Erwin as he slowly retrieved a small white fruit, no larger than a marble, from his pocket. Aston's eyes flickered with curiosity and anticipation as he observed the peculiar object in Erwin's hands.

Erwin, noticing the flicker of recognition in Aston's eyes, couldn't resist making a sly remark. His lips curled into a mischievous smile as he spoke, "Ah, I see that glimmer of understanding in your eyes. You're familiar with this fruit, aren't you?"

Aston's head nodded instinctively, his mind racing with the knowledge of the Virellanths fruit's potential. It was renowned for its ability to enhance a person's vitality and could even serve as a potent healing medicine for the wounded. However, such a treasure would not be freely given without a price.

Aston understood the underlying implications as Erwin continued, his voice dripping with a mix of cunning and caution, "I can grant you one of these fruits, but in return, I'll require something from you. You see, my dear Aston, we both know the fickle nature of promises. Even if I save your life and you promise me riches, we both know the true intentions that reside within your heart once you're out of harm's way."

"So, my dear Aston, how about we strike a little deal?" Erwin proposed, his voice laced with a deceptive charm. "In exchange for this remarkable fruit, I'll need something valuable from you. And don't you dare think about tricking me. Remember, this fruit takes time to take effect. For now, it will simply halt your bleeding, which, I must say, is rather crucial."

Erwin's eyes glanced down at the pooling blood, staining the ground beneath Aston's wounded body. The sight seemed to fuel his twisted delight, relishing in Aston's vulnerability and desperate situation.

Aston's mind churned with disdain as he contemplated Erwin's audacity to strike a deal with him. 'This lowlife dares to make deals with me.' he silently mused, his eyes fixated on the small, marble-sized fruit nestled in Erwin's hand. A thought crossed his mind – the option of ending Erwin's existence, should he manage to survive this ordeal.

In a calculated move, Aston slowly raised his hands, catching Erwin's attention. A glimmer of excitement sparkled in Erwin's eyes as they locked onto the white stone ring adorning Aston's finger.

"A spital ring!" Erwin exclaimed, his voice brimming with exhilaration. Without any regard for Aston's injuries, he firmly gripped Aston's arm, tugging at the ring with a reckless abandon. Aston winced, his pain exacerbated by Erwin's callous actions.

Erwin attempted to peer inside the spital ring, his curiosity piqued, but his efforts proved futile. Frustrated, he handed the ring back to Aston, his voice laced with arrogance. "Open it up and let me see what's inside," he demanded, a wicked glint in his eyes.

'I am gonna skin him alive.' Aston's anger surged, a boiling fury coursing through his veins. The audacity of Erwin's demand only intensified his determination to seek revenge. Thoughts of retribution danced in his mind, envisioning the satisfaction of dismantling Erwin piece by piece.

With anticipation coursing through his veins, Erwin examined the ring in his hand. It was identical to the one his mother had given him long ago, the same one he had lost. A surge of joy washed over him as he realized he had found a replacement. However, he knew he couldn't keep the ring. Aston would bleed out his life rather than exchange it for a mere low level magical fruit, which held little value to him.

Locking eyes with Aston, who watched him with intense apprehension, Erwin reassured him, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry, my friend. I won't take your precious ring. It suits you far more than it does me. Besides, it's will be pain in the ass to keep this costly item with me."

As Erwin prodded at Aston's wounds once again, causing him to flinch in pain, a sadistic pleasure danced in his eyes. He relished in the torture, reveling in the power he held over Aston's suffering. "Now, let's take a peek inside, shall we? I wonder if you've stashed any cultural stuff in there. Do you mind if I have a look?"

Erwin's amusement grew as he gazed upon Aston's pained smile, the struggle to suppress his anger evident. He reveled in the control he held over his helpless captive, the power to toy with his emotions.

*Pchak* But in an instant, a sharp, explosive sound shattered the air, resembling the bursting of a watermelon. Erwin's world turned chaotic as a hot liquid sprayed across his face, accompanied by a barrage of hard and soft fragments that pelted his skin with brutal force. The impact was akin to a bomb detonating against his face, causing his skin to ignite with searing agony.

Shocked and disoriented, Erwin fought to open his eyes, the crimson hue of crimson obscuring his vision. Frantically, he wiped his hands across his face, desperate to clear his sight. As his vision gradually returned, he stared at his crimson-stained hands, confusion clouding his expression.

"Blood?" Erwin uttered in disbelief, his voice laced with a mixture of shock and horror.

His gaze shifted to Aston, horror seizing him as he witnessed the ghastly sight before him. He recoiled, scrambling backward in a desperate attempt to distance himself from the macabre sight that unfolded before him.

Aston was dead, his decapitated form serving as undeniable proof. But there was something even more nightmarish that froze Erwin in terror.

In place of Aston's head was a gaping void, a gruesome cavity spattered with blood, shattered bones, and scattered fragments of brain matter. The sight sent waves of revulsion and horror crashing over Erwin's senses, threatening to consume him.

A primal scream tore from Erwin's throat, reverberating through the air. "Ahhhhhh!" he howled, unable to contain the sheer terror that coursed through his veins. Without daring to cast another glance at the gruesome spectacle, he turned and fled, his face contorted with an expression of unadulterated horror.

Driven by an instinct to escape the abomination he had witnessed, Erwin raced away, his every stride echoing the terror that engulfed him.

Erwin's breath came in ragged gasps as he fled, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of terror. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to escape the horrifying scene he had just witnessed. His heart pounded like a relentless drum, threatening to burst from his chest. "No, no, this can't be happening." he muttered to himself, desperate for some semblance of reassurance.

But as he ran, the stickiness on his face and the metallic scent wafting to his nose served as a grim reminder, a chilling confirmation of the sequence of events that had just unfolded. He could feel the warm liquid clinging to his skin, staining it with the unmistakable residue of blood. The repulsive sensation made his stomach churn, and he fought to suppress the rising wave of nausea.

He ran, his tears streaming down his face, mingling with the crimson stains of Aston's blood. The gusting wind whipped against his skin, hastening the drying process of the gruesome mixture on his cheeks. The sticky residue clung to his face, leaving a trail of macabre streaks that served as a haunting reminder of the horrors he had just witnessed.

His sobs were choked and ragged, a symphony of despair and terror echoing through the desolate landscape. Each gasp for breath felt like a stab to his chest, as if the weight of his guilt and fear threatened to suffocate him. He stumbled forward, his legs burning with exertion, driven solely by the primal instinct to survive.

The taste of salt and iron lingered in his mouth, the metallic tang of Aston's blood intermingling with his own salty tears. It was a bitter concoction that seemed to permeate every fiber of his being, a visceral reminder of the irreversible tragedy that had unfolded before his eyes.

As Erwin raced onward, his clothes clung to his body, drenched in a chilling combination of sweat and the life essence that had been cruelly spilled. The fabric clung to his skin, growing heavier with each passing moment, as if carrying the weight of his guilt and the burden of the horrors he had unwittingly become a part of.

"Shit, shit..." Erwin cursed under his breath, his voice filled with desperation as he sprinted for his life. Fear and survival instincts were the only things that occupied his mind. The identity of the thing or person responsible for Aston's gruesome death didn't matter to him in that moment; all he wanted was to escape. 

*Crack* Suddenly, a sound reverberated from behind him, jolting Erwin with a surge of horror. His instinctive response compelled him to glance over his shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. Yet, to his dismay, there was no one there, only the empty expanse of the desolate surroundings.

Confusion mingled with his terror, but before he could make sense of the situation, another sound sliced through the air.

*Pchak* Erwin's heart sank as his feet lost their footing, slipping on the wet ground. In an instant, he found himself hurtling towards a pool of water, unable to regain his balance. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he descended, the cold embrace of the water awaiting him.

The silence enveloped him, offering a brief respite from the cacophony of his racing thoughts. As he took a deep breath, raising his face from the shallow pool, a stroke of luck revealed that the water was only knee-deep. Relief washed over him, momentarily easing the weight of his turmoil.

He mustered the strength to push himself up, his trembling limbs protesting against the physical and emotional strain. But just as he attempted to rise, his gaze fixated on the distorted reflection in the rippling water. The image stared back at him, a distorted and fragmented version of himself, tainted by the remnants of Aston's shattered existence.

The sight that greeted him was nothing short of revolting. Aston's brain matter clung to his shirt, matted against the fabric in a sickening display. Blood splatters adorned his face and entangled in his hair, turning him into a nightmarish caricature of horror. Disgust and horror surged through his veins, threatening to overpower him.

Driven by a desperate need to rid himself of the repulsive remnants, he tore away his bloodstained shirt with a cry of anguish. The fabric ripped apart, leaving shreds in his trembling hands, but he cared little for the loss. With trembling fingers, he cupped the water in his palms and splashed it onto his face, desperately scrubbing away the crimson stains.