Warlock of War: My Ares System

Chapter 542 The Scuffle For Survival

He moves with an infectious enthusiasm, and his laughter, like tinkling bells, cuts through the oppressive silence of the chamber. In this grim place, his presence is a beacon of optimism, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Despite the overwhelming hunger and desperation, the little boy with the perpetual smile retains his ability to find joy in the smallest of things. He's often seen sharing a morsel of food or a sip of water, his generosity a symbol of the kindness that endures even in the harshest of conditions.

"Zeus loves you…" The boy broke another second of silence before handing me a metal insignia that was stashed away in his tattered brown shorts. It had a small lightning bolt streaking across the steel plate. "... Hehehe… I had to swallow this in order to keep it from the guards. I was worried I had digested it… I'm glad it wasn't though." 

"Who is Zeus?" 

He seemed a little taken aback at the fact I didn't know who his god was, but quickly shook it off. "Zeus," he began, his voice filled with a sense of wonder, "is like the all-mighty god. He is the ruler of the heavens and the earth, a powerful deity who wields thunderbolts with a strength that can shake the very foundations of the world. His presence is like a storm, both fierce and magnificent. He was and is the savior of our planet. And with the army of gods behind him… I don't believe it is possible for him to lose."

My eyes glowed. It was the first time in my life that I had heard something so promising. It sounded so sweet. So delectable. And in such a dire situation, it didn't sound so bad to give it a try. Worshipping something like that, spending just a few minutes of these endless hours praying for a better situation.

I wasn't the only one who was seduced by such sweet words as others clung to this god. In fact, over time, as more of our little meat scraps began to dwindle away and food became much more scarce, everybody joined in on our prayer sessions. 

In the dimly lit cavern, with shadows dancing on the cold, rocky walls, the boy with the perpetual smile knelt in a secluded corner with everybody joining behind him. His small form was illuminated by the soft, flickering light, casting a warm, ethereal glow around him. With unwavering faith and an aura of innocence, he closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and began to pray to Zeus.

His voice, though gentle, carried a sense of fervor as he spoke, addressing the mighty god with reverence. "Oh, Zeus," he whispered, "King of the Gods, I beseech you to watch over us, your humble children, in this time of great need. Your thunderbolts symbolize your power and your wisdom, and we, your faithful, look up to you in awe."

He spoke of their suffering in the cavern, their hunger, and their desperation, as he implored Zeus for guidance and protection. "In our darkest hour, we turn to you, mighty Zeus, to lend us your strength and your wisdom. We are but innocent children and we pray for your benevolence and your guidance as we navigate the trials that surround us."

The boy's unwavering smile remained as he prayed, a testament to his unshakeable belief in the god's benevolence. "Zeus, grant us your blessings, as you are the symbol of order and justice. May your thunderous presence bring order to our world, and may your wisdom illuminate our path through this cavern's darkness."

His words seemed to hang in the air, echoing through the chamber like a hymn of hope and faith. As he finished his prayer, the boy opened his eyes and, with a radiant smile, looked up at the cavern's ceiling, as if expecting a divine response from the mighty Zeus himself.

"I see… so that's how it is…" He smiled. "Everybody close your eyes! We must pray even harder! If a single one of you opens your eyes, Zeus may smite us down!" 

And so, we followed his words. Well, everybody but me after a few sketchy seconds. I felt something strange lingering in the back of my mind. A bad feeling. It was the same bad feeling that I got when I saw my friend get wheeled out on a wheelbarrow, her corpse limp but at the same time tense with agony. It almost felt like… death was approaching. 

Thwip… thwip… thwip… thwip… 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 

Descending screams of agony echoed within the chamber. I snapped my eyes open to see what was happening, but what I witnessed sent a shiver down my spine. 

The transformation in the smiling boy is stark and disconcerting. His perpetual smile, once a symbol of innocence and hope, has now widened into a grimace, tinged with a hint of desperation. His large, expressive eyes, which once shone with curiosity, now gleam with a mixture of fear and determination.

In his small, trembling hand, he clutches a small knife, its blade coated in blood—a stark contrast to the purity he once embodied. The blade's crimson stain reflects the gruesome act he has just committed.

Around him, several lifeless children lie in the dimly lit chamber, their bodies lifeless and still. The grim tableau of death paints an eerie picture in the cavern, as the boy with the bloodied knife stands amidst the chilling aftermath of violence.

The boy's breath is rapid, and his pulse races with the weight of his actions. His face is now a mask of desperation, a stark contrast to the innocence he once exuded. He gazes around at the lifeless bodies, his smile contorted by a mixture of dread and the harsh reality of their situation.

As he clutches the bloodied knife, the boy with the once-constant smile is no longer a symbol of hope, but a stark reminder of the depths to which one can be driven by the relentless struggle for survival in a world where innocence is tainted and desperation reigns.

"W-Why?" I stuttered. 

"THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS GOD! AND IF THERE IS, HE HAS ABANDONED ME! BUT! YOU ALL SHALL BE MY SACRIFICES!" 

In the dimly lit cavern, the chase and subsequent confrontation between the smiling boy and me are a chilling testament to the depths to which desperation can drive us. His once-smiling face, now warped with fear and determination, serves as a stark contrast to the elven features that adorn my visage.

As he closes the distance, I sense his relentless pursuit and brace myself for the inevitable clash. The echoing sound of our steps reverberates through the cavern, creating a disorienting and surreal backdrop to the impending struggle.

The flickering light casts elongated shadows on the rocky walls as the boy lunges forward with desperate ferocity. His bloodied knife gleams menacingly in the dim illumination. I know that evading him forever is not an option, and with a mixture of dread and grim resolve, I decide to halt and turn, preparing to face my relentless pursuer.

"Please watch over me… I've learned a lot from you…" I muttered silently, and even though my body was quaking with turmoil, I clenched my fists and turned around. 

I can hear his breath, heavy and labored, as he approaches. His eyes, once filled with innocence and wonder, now gleam with a sinister glint. I watch his every move, and at that moment, I feel the weight of our situation—trapped in a cavern of shadows, where innocence has been tainted and desperation reigns.

Our movements are like a deadly dance, a macabre struggle for survival. As he lunges toward me, I act on instinct, sidestepping his attack with the fluid grace of an elf, narrowly evading the menacing blade. The cavern's silence is broken by the eerie sounds of our struggle—clashes, grunts, and the unsettling echoes of our skirmish.

With each encounter, I can sense the turmoil in the boy's every blow, his determination to survive, and the darkness that has taken root in his young heart. He's a stark reminder of the harsh reality that defines our existence in this place, where innocence and experience collide in a relentless battle for dominance.

Our movements are a testament to our desperation, and the flickering light casts shifting, elongated shadows on the cavern walls. The echoing sound of each step reverberates through the chamber, creating a surreal and haunting soundscape.

The boy's once-innocent smile, now contorted with a mixture of determination and fear, serves as a haunting backdrop to our battle. He lunges toward me, his bloodied knife raised with a grim sense of purpose. As he approaches, I remain alert, my elven senses attuned to every nuance of his movements.

His desperation is palpable as he thrusts the knife in my direction. I react with instinctual grace, sidestepping his attack with a deftness that only an elf possesses. The blade, a mere hair's breadth away, misses its mark, and the cavern's eerie silence is broken only by the tense sound of the blade slicing through the air.

The boy, fueled by a raw determination to survive, stumbles past me, and I seize the opportunity to counter his attack. With a swift, calculated kick, I send him sprawling to the rocky ground, his small form colliding with the unforgiving stone floor. His knife clatters away, the metallic sound echoing through the chamber.

He rises, his once-wide smile now twisted in a snarl of determination, and he comes at me again, undeterred by his earlier failure. Our movements become a deadly ballet in the cavern's eerie, dimly lit space, a grim struggle between two beings who have been pushed to their limits.

The flickering light enhances the surreal nature of our fight, and the air is thick with tension and the eerie echo of our skirmish. The cavern's rocky walls seem to close in on us, as if the very environment is a silent, watchful witness to the struggle.

And in one single, critical moment, I manage to disarm him, the knife falling to the rocky floor with a clatter. He looks up at me, his eyes no longer filled with innocence but with a mixture of fear, regret, and despair. The cavern's eerie silence returns, broken only by the sound of our heavy panting.