Chapter 114: temp 1

They took Moldovar’s dagger and went to where Jethrov was, and Harrison stabbed him repeatedly until he reached the peak of his glee, sighing with joy. “Your happy days are over, Moldovar—Jethrov is dead!”

“Let’s go!” They propped the unconscious Moldovar against the wall near Jethrov’s corpse before leaving the place like thieves who were never identified by the people. When the people Iophinea had asked for help from arrived, they were shocked to see Jethrov’s body bathed in blood and Moldovar’s hand with the dagger bearing Jethrov’s fresh blood…

Moldovar was tied up and unconscious in the Moonatoria prison, the rusty bars like a contagious disease, a room where the whispers of hopeless prisoners seeped through. This was Moldovar’s room at that moment. The rough floor kissed his knees, which bore the foul smell of hardship and oppression inside.

He was woken by a wooden bucket that released foul-smelling water scooped from a septic tank. The water, smelling of dead rats, was sticky and dirty as it soaked Moldovar’s body, an insult to his character. Each ton of water from the septic tank reflected the vile administration of the guards in the Moonatoria prison. The guards who poured it on his face giggled. Those who once followed him now mocked him, like hyenas circling in front of him. He was startled by the force of the water, which stank like athlete’s foot and stung his nose. He felt cold and nauseated by the foul-smelling water, with mud sticking to his face like a mockery.

A guard with a round body and a large belly that seemed to be a water reservoir, with a thick and rough voice, was the first to call out to him. “Leader, did you have a good dream?” the guard said. He knew this guard, who knew no mercy; even the steel on his chest gleamed in the presence of light. “Sorry, but this is not the right time to fantasize about yesterday.” He felt nervous whenever he saw the guard’s face, as if this were a dream, his mind would wake his sleeping body, but he felt the sting of the chains as if a thousand ants were crawling on him. The once-honorable leader, now in front of them, was like a criminal with no escape from their mockery.

“You scoundrels!!” Moldovar shouted, disgusted by what the guards were doing to him. “Why did you tie me up?” Every word he spoke was accompanied by a struggle against the chains that were embedded in his wrists, and his skin was wet and itchy from the intense rust, and whenever he struggled, he writhed in extreme pain as if a wire was wrapped around him. He tried to break the chain, but it was just music to the guards’ ears.

“Comrades, he’s pretending to be innocent—?” He laughed and looked disgusted. He coughed up a yellow phlegm and spat on the ground in front of Moldovar, and it dripped down his cheek. He held a small paper that was proof of Moldovar’s crime and quickly tucked it into the back of his pants.

“You are a criminal!!!” the guard said with emphasis, and at the same time, he poked Moldovar’s forehead with a finger as hard as bone, and his skull echoed in the unforgiving iron bars. “Murderer!!!” The guards and prisoners joined in with mocking shouts and deafening pounding on the bars, which got faster and faster, keeping rhythm with the guards’ taunting. At the same time, the dogs outside the prison barked endlessly, which was irritating to the guards’ ears.

“That’s not true!!!” Moldovar said. “You’re lying!!”

“Ah—after you stabbed your friend’s body so many times, you only have two answers?” The guards laughed again as if they were listening to a real comedy show.

“Stabbed?” Moldovar said, his eyes widening like an owl’s as he looked at the floor, and his mind dug deep into it. “I didn’t stab anyone. It was an accident; he fell from the floor!” Moldovar’s sane mind tried to race to explain the whole event, but in the eyes of the guards and even the prisoners there, he was like a comedian making them laugh.

“Accident—! Fell from the floor—!” The guard lazily mimicked Moldovar’s answer with a slight wiggle of his waist. “Pfft, who’s crazy enough to believe you? After you tried to rape his wife, you’ll just say… it was an accident?

…

“My king, bad news! Leader Moldovar is in the Moonatoria prison and has been charged!” The soldier was panting as he delivered the news, running like an ostrich.

“Moldovar!???” King Harthur stood up and his eyes widened at the sweaty face of the soldier.

“My husband, what’s the problem?” Queen Azonia said innocently. “Moldovar?” Azonia pretended to stammer nervously. The queen’s intentions were economical; her coldness was contagious like snow, but behind it, her eyes celebrated victory as she joined in the shock of the people in the king’s vast throne. She whispered to herself, “Finally, Lancaster and his group succeeded,” referring to the soldiers she had bribed to attempt Moldovar’s life.

“I can’t believe it, leader Moldovar is like an angel, why are they accusing him?” Azonia said, looking sadly at the king, sharing in the king’s sadness over what happened to his close friend. But all of it was just a lie, like a finely woven fabric of pretense.

“My king, the court has called for a trial for leader Moldovar.”

“That’s a huge madness!” King Harthur said. “Do they have witnesses?”

“There are witnesses, sir. Four people are testifying that Moldovar killed leader Jethrov.”

“Killed??” King Harthur said, surprised. “Who are those bold people to tarnish Moldovar’s name?”

“Harrison, Lancaster, and Woeffellon… And Jethrov’s wife, Iophinea, also added her testimony.”

“Did they believe those three?” Harthur was clearly doubtful that those witnesses could be trusted, and his suspicion grew that Moldovar was being framed.

“Is there a problem with those three, my dear husband?” Azonia said, her brow furrowed slightly when she noticed King Harthur was doubtful about those people. “We can’t do anything if they testified against Moldovar.” Queen Azonia said those words with relief.

“I need to talk to the court!” King Harthur said, standing up again with a determined purpose to talk to the judges.

“For what… To cover up the evil deeds your friend did?” Queen Azonia said.

“I know Moldovar. He wouldn’t do that.” King Harthur said.

A blinding light suddenly struck Xerxez vision, then, on his mind it feels like he was teleported into the different dimension, but this time, the surrounding become louder. The visual swept him from a blinding light space into a terrifying scene. Though it is fragmenting.

“Woah, what was that light?”

He saw the light violently crashing down from the sky. He saw a wide, glowing shield affixed to the heavens like an ultimate, unbreakable barrier, and a creature trying to destroy it with a powerful mechanism. The boy was too young to understand, ignorantly watching the face of nightmare.

GRAWRR!!!!!

“Ah, is that a monster?”

“If this is still real, then, I saw a real monster, a long-tailed creature breathing fire…His is fighting…and fighting… against magic and powerful weapons? and then he become a— boy? Who is that boy? Oh, it disappear!”

Then, a vertical line rise in the sky. There is a black. An open field in the sky. Suddenly, there are giant tentacles appear too! It resembling claws, and trying to widen the hole in the sky.

“Whoah, there is a monster face, made of thorny evil energy, a halo of dark purple monster, peeked out from it. Its eyes, like… like the galaxies with malicious intent? Ehh, he stared at me!”

One tentacle, it coil at him, like an octopus!

“No, I have nothing to do with this, the man just brought me here.” The boy felt like peeing himself in fear at the sight of the lashing monster as he was gripped. “Let me go!!! Please, no, don’t eat me!!!”

It lunged, not just grabbing, but enveloping the boy in its crushing grip, the air squeezed from his lungs, his bones groaning in protest. He felt himself being pulled towards its mouth, not just swallowed like an egg, but pulverized, created, absorbed into its very essence, his consciousness dissolving into a painful, eternal scream as he became one with the terrifying creature.

“If this is what he say, life and death? Then, this is not funny!”The boy wake up, leaning in the moss coated tree, he sat on the green grass carpeted by dried leaves. Soaked in sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs like a desperate drummer. He gasps.

’It ate me! Like… like a perfectly poached egg!

He scrambled up, still half-convinced, he was being swallowed. He ran to the stream, while the monster’s face still echoed in his mind. The water was like a mirror before him, and then he carefully examined his reflection. He mumbled.

’Wait a minute,’ tickling his stomach. ’I don’t feel like, I was eaten by a cosmic horror. I actually feel… a little hungry. You know, for a monster horror-sized breakfast.

’Maybe some eggs, but definitely not poached. Scrambled. Yeah, scrambled would be good. Less chance of triggering my terrifying dream memories. Or steaming boiled eggs.’

He pause, then whispering to his reflection, ’Though, I have to admit, that monster had good taste. Hehehe, It feels like I’m a delicious kid.’

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