“He’s been rather quiet lately… but we’ve definitely had no problems at all, Vim. I don’t know why Light and the rest seem to think he’s going to do something, we’ve not seen any sign of such a thing,” Frerit said as she led me up the path to Tor’s Cavern.

“Such instances don’t always show signs. Plus… all monarchs eventually go astray. It is not a matter of if but when,” I said calmly.

The young priestess sighed, her tiny shoulders shaking a little as she nodded. “To happen right after mother’s death… is it my fault, Vim?” the young chicken asked as she slowed and looked back at me.

I stepped a few paces forward as to get nearer, and gently reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, Frerit. Nor would it be your mother’s fault either. As you’ve undoubtedly been taught all monarchs eventually descend into madness, or a form of it. It’s… just something they do. If Tor really is about to betray us, it is of no part on yours or anyone else’s. Just his own,” I said, speaking calmly as I did.

The young chicken gave me a worried frown but nodded. “Is there… anything I can do? We can do? To make sure it doesn’t happen now?” she asked, hopeful.

“If there is I will be sure to let you know. If it’s any consolation, by my agreements with Celine and the Society I am to do all I can to first try to find any chance of peace. If possible,” I said.

She sighed a bit in relief upon hearing such a thing and nodded again. “That’s good to hear, Vim…”

Not really. Because there was little doubt in my mind that I was going to kill Tor here and now.

Light’s prophecies, all prophecies really, were things I despised… but knew better than to doubt their source. I respected them, and knew better than to discount them completely. Taking Light’s prophecy, foretelling Tor’s betrayal, and taking into account all I knew of monarchs made it very easy to know the expected outcome of this moment.

But Frerit didn’t need to know such bad news. For now it was best to just let her, and the rest of her villagers, be anxious but at ease.

Light had already put people into motion. Almost a dozen of her people were already here, two of which were full-blooded members. People who could coexist here in this herbivore community while at the same time were strong enough, and capable enough, to protect them from outside influences. Maybe not as well as Tor and his abilities have done all these years, but they’d be able to do enough for now after Tor’s death.

I wasn’t entirely sure what Light had in plan for this village, or the people here, after Tor was gone… but I figured I’d found out shortly once the deed was done.

Hopefully it wasn’t something too serious…

“Ah!” Frerit then stopped walking again, seemingly startled. I paused, frowning at her as she turned around to look at me with a worried expression. “Where’s Renn!?”

Oh…? “Nearby. I hadn’t known the condition of the village, since Light’s letter had been… straight and to the point,” I said, almost choosing the word ominous instead. “I’ll go get her once I speak with Tor,” I added.

Frerit calmed a little with a sigh of relief. “Oh, good… she was meant to be here, after all,” she said lightly as she turned back around.

My frown deepened upon being informed of something I hadn’t wanted to know.

Renn had been involved in the prophecy then, had she…? Did that mean Frerit already knew the expected outcome…? How long had she known, I wonder?

Choosing to not dwell too deeply on such information I simply went quiet, and cleared my mind, as Frerit led me to the entrance to Tor’s Cavern. It, as always, looked like a simple cave entrance. Nothing too extravagant or showing any signs to importance.

Frerit slowed as we stepped up to the entrance, and she turned to give me a worried look. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she asked.

A tad humbled by the young girl’s offer, I gave her a gentle smile and nodded. “I’m sure. Thank you. While I go confront him, would you mind having the village gather? And go to those Light sent and ask what they think are the next steps for me, if you would,” I asked. Frerit had wanted me to go see them, before confronting Tor, but I had declined.

I was here to deal with a monarch. Such a thing didn’t wait.

Frerit nodded with an odd frown. “You don’t know already?”

Oh? So she did. “No… I don’t like knowing more than I need to. It’s part of how I operate. They’ll know what I mean,” I said.

She slowly nodded again, and I could tell she didn’t really understand but knew better than to pry further.

I gestured at cave. “While you’re at it, also find out if anyone has any urgent requests of me if you would. I might not be able to stay long, considering the circumstances, but I’ll try my best,” I added.

The young priestess nodded, and then as I stepped forward as to walk past her and into the cavern… she coughed and cleared her throat. “Good luck, Vim…” she said gently.

Nodding as I entered Tor’s Cavern, I wondered if that was heartfelt or because of some other reason.

What had they told her, I wonder…? What had they told the villagers here in general, for that matter?

Hey the monarch, someone many of you have worshiped like a godly being, is going to betray you and Vim will come and slay it. Sleep well tonight!

I shook my head and sighed at such thoughts as I heard Frerit’s light footsteps as she hurried off and I headed deeper into the darkness.

Passing the small crate of torches, I went deeper into the cave and the darkness it held without worry or hesitation.

I could feel Tor now. He was still here. Still alive, too. He was quite a distance into the cave, which told me he had not retreated or run… which was a tad odd.

Did Tor even know he was going to betray us…? Usually when I got notified of a monarch’s intent to betray, or it already having done so, I usually had to track them down because they had fled. It wasn’t common that the monarch in question just… waited for me.

A trap maybe…? Did Tor somehow think that I could be sealed and trapped in one of his illusions…? Surely not, right? Even he, for all his pride, knew better than to do that.

Or maybe he simply didn’t care. More than a few monarchs in the last few hundred years had simply… waited for the end. Even the ones not friendly had sometimes just… given up. Maybe this was going to be that kind of moment.

And that was likely exactly what I found.

Stepping out of the darkness and into a starry, moonlit sky… I frowned at the small mound of sand before me. Like a tiny island surrounded by clear and clam waters, a patch of white sand sparkled underneath a moon so big it took up nearly half the sky.

For the smallest of moments I took in the scene. It wasn’t one too unalike the many I’ve seen Tor conjure before… but there was one glaring oddity to be found.

Tor sat upon the sandy mound. Out in the open, in his real form. A bit off the center, a few feet from where the clear waters rolled along the white sand like tiny waves, was the small hedgehog. Tor was staring up at the huge moon hanging overhead, as if lost in thought.

I stood still for a few moments… half expecting something to happen, but when nothing did I decided to step forward. The shallow water splashed as I walked towards the sandy mound, and the monarch somberly sitting upon it.

It didn’t take me long to reach the sandy mound, and I stepped up onto it without hesitation. My feet sunk into it a bit as I walked onto the mound, as if it was snow.

“Tor,” I greeted the monarch as I walked over to him. I stopped a few feet from him, and noted the way not even a whisker or his little nose squirmed upon my arrival. He was staring up at the huge moon, it reflecting in his eyes as if it was all that mattered in the world, and he looked moonstruck. As if completely unaware of my existence.

A long moment of silence came and went… and then right as I was about to say something more, his little whiskers shook. “Welcome, Vim,” Tor said.

My eyes narrowed upon hearing his normal voice. It didn’t boom, or shake the world around me. It didn’t shiver the waters, or make the moon above tremble.

I see.

Stepping closer to the tiny monarch… I knelt down and took a seat. Right next to Tor, I sighed as I looked up at the huge moon looming over us.

It looked impossibly large. Although it looked real, it and the sky looked flawless even to my eyes… it was not hard to feel it was fake. Its size alone made it obvious, it took up more than half the sky overhead.

If the real moon was this big, or this close, it’d be quite concerning.

Plus, another aspect of its falsehood was clearly visible. Especially now that I was standing in the middle of the seemingly unending lake.

There was no reflection of the moon upon the waters. Though it did reflect off Tor’s little eyes, somehow.

“Not even going to do the voice this time?” I asked him calmly.

The small hedgehog shivered, his tiny little quill-like spines flattened then opened again as he did. “I had thought you would bring her with you… so I had been planning, and hoping, to abuse her sentimentalism,” Tor said.

I smirked at that. “Thus why I had left her outside,” I said. And that was a scary thought too, since it might have worked.

The odds of Renn being able to stay my hand, one clenched in anger, were so thin and unlikely it was almost ridiculous to even consider it… but it was still a chance. One that I would not be on guard against.

“Hmph… it’s always annoyed me how you somehow always keep yourself one step ahead of me, even when you don’t even try to do so. Makes me feel like an absolute idiot,” Tor complained.

“Rude,” I said.

A tiny squeak of a huff came from Tor as he slowly looked down from the huge moon in the sky and over at me.

I waited for Tor to say something… since now the niceties were out of the way, at least so I thought, but instead… he just stared. And stared some more.

Did he… expect me to say something first…?

Honestly he didn’t want that. Even if he didn’t know it. If I started the conversation, the one we really needed to have, then he was not going to be happy… because I’d start it with violence. Not words.

But…

Staring at the tiny creature, a monarch of immense power but tiny all the same, I thought of Renn for a moment.

Our entire trip here had been her talking about all the many possible reasons Tor could be betraying us for. She had asked me thousands of questions, most I hadn’t answered, and not just because I hadn’t wanted to.

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I could only imagine a few possibilities myself. And… so…

Should I just end him now? Did it matter? Did his reasons matter at all? Did Light’s? Did a prophecy or two really matter?

No. They didn’t. A monarch was a monarch in the end. Even Miss Beak, and those like her, those I saw as friends… even they knew that if they ever stepped out of line they’d inevitably meet my wrath. And they knew it well. But…

He’s protected this place for centuries. Thousands of people, those I had vowed to protect, over the years have lived under his watchful eye.

And in that whole time, not once has he ever allowed anything too drastic to happen. A few times I’ve had to come and deal with things, but nothing ever too serious. All those who have died under his care have done so either from natural causes or ones beyond anyone’s control, such as disease or accidents.

Hundreds of years… without fault or failure…

That deserved a bit of respect, didn’t it? At least a little…?

Yes. Renn would say so. Surely.

So…

“What’s going on, Tor…? Why am I being told to cull you? I was even bringing you your ancestor’s heart,” I asked, finding the bit of Renn in me to do so.

Tor didn’t even twitch. “Because I’ve been given orders,” he answered.

My mouth twitched. Orders…? “By who…?”

“My creator, Vim.”

I blinked, and before my eyelids even finished the motion Tor had squeaked wildly in shock as I grabbed him. I stood up, lifting Tor in my grasp as I slowly started to squeeze him. Before my mind even fully comprehended what he had just said, I was already crushing him in my grip. As I would an egg.

“Wait…!” Tor barely got out between his wheeze of a squeaks as I squeezed harder.

“Why should I?” I scoffed as I clenched even more. Veins and tendons began to enlarge as my muscles strained. For as soft and squishy he felt, he was still a monarch. I was putting enough strength into crushing him that if he had been a natural creature he would have popped and exploded long ago. His tiny spiky quills were stabbing into my hand, some even breaking under the stress, but I ignored them.

“The command… isn’t… it…” Tor tried to say more, but I finally squeezed out the last bit of air from him.

My left eye twitched as I stared at the strange glob of white and black in my hand. It looked… weird, since I was squeezing it so tightly. Parts of Tor were poking out between my fingers and grip, and they did so oddly. It looked, and even kind of felt, as if I was crushing some kind of squashy marshmallow or something.

Marshmallow…?

I blinked as I thought of something I’d not thought of in…

A high-pitched wheeze of pain drew me out of my thoughts, of memories of my mother, and I uneasily watched Tor take in deep breaths.

I had slightly eased in my squeezing.

“Let me… explain… please…” Tor wheezed out, and as he did some blood leaked and splattered onto the back of my hand.

There was no need to. I shouldn’t.

Wouldn’t…

But I did anyway.

Shifting ever so slightly, I ignored the huge waves splashing all around the tiny island of white sand I stood upon. “Explain then,” I said through clenched teeth.

What was I doing…? Giving a monarch, one who was still connected to its creator, time? Time to think? To relay information? To plan and scheme…?

This was folly. Ridiculous and…

Glaring at the tiny creature that had just made my mind full of complicated thoughts, old and new, I hated how it didn’t take much effort at all to keep myself from finishing the job and crushing him completely. I could feel his heart, settled within him. It was thumping wildly, likely because he was now hurt. I had undoubtedly harmed many organs, if not all of them, just now… and he was now likely healing as fast as possible.

Tor coughed some more, and his tiny little paws clawed at my thumb. One of them looked twisted badly as he wiggled it out from under my grip. “I’m to deliver a message. That’s all,” he wheezed.

A… message…?

I went cold as I realized, and hated, how much sense that made.

This was why he had still been here. Even after Light and all the rest had prophecies of his betrayal. Ones that had likely taken weeks, if not months, to reach me. He had been patiently waiting, because he had been told to do so.

Monarchs could not disobey their creators.

“When’d you get it?” I asked. My voice sounded stiff. Cold. Hard.

If Renn had heard it, her ears would have fluttered in annoyance. The fact I could imagine the look on her face, that worried one she got when upset and concerned, made me sick to my stomach.

“Not too long after you and her left the last time… I was to wait until you showed up once more,” Tor said, then coughed some more blood. This time it was a bright red in color, telling me his internal organs were already being restored. “I’m supposed to give you a message,” Tor added after he regained some breath.

A message…

I lowered Tor for a moment, but kept firm hold of him. I glanced around, and didn’t like the fact that I didn’t feel anything amiss. I felt no other divinity around me, other than the source in my hand.

And not just here either. From that mountain top where I’d left Renn, to the village and then into this cavern system… I had not felt anything or anyone else. No one other than Tor and Renn, no other sources of divinity, were nearby.

“Just a message, Vim… just a message,” Tor then said, sounding weak as he did.

Returning my focus to the tiny monarch, I lifted him a bit as to glare down at him. I ever so gently squeezed a bit tighter, causing him to let out a tiny wheeze of a groan as I did. “What’s the message?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Vim…” Tor wheezed, as if he hadn’t heard me. And… maybe he hadn’t. I was squeezing him rather harshly, to the point it seemed he couldn’t even force air into his lungs. I softened my grip on him a little, enough to let him breathe again, and then waited for him to cough up a bit more blood before continuing.

“Say it.”

Tor closed his tiny, glistening eyes. “I’ve been obeying her this whole time, Vim… from the beginning,” he admitted, sounding defeated as he did.

My left eye twitched as I shifted… and something loud snapped. Something big. Something heavy.

Slowly looking up, I glared at a huge crack that had just ran from one side of the massive moon above us to the other end. The crack was a massive rigid line that had sounded similar to what a piece of tile or a heavy plate made when broken. Just… a lot louder.

Then, as if like a deflated balloon, the shining moon started to shrink and fade away… It disappeared into the darkness more like a distant fog than an actual object, and I felt a shift in the air as the illusion shattered.

I was no longer standing on a mound of white sand, surrounded by water. I was now standing in the center of a huge cavern of rock. My eyes quickly adjusted as I again focused on my hand, and the tiny rodent who was wheezing in pain. It sounded like he had a collapsed lung, and was likely what had broken his illusion. Pain. He was in a lot of it. His head, with his tiny but slightly long snout, was resting against the crook of my thumb. He felt limp in my grip, and was trembling lightly in sporadic bursts.

Had I already killed him…? I had been squeezing rather hard, but I had thought him a tad stronger than that… plus I had thought he had been healing already… maybe I had misjudged Tor’s strength all this time? If so, then it was a good thing I had kept him from trying to absorb his ancestor’s heart all this time.

He would have never survived it, if this was all he was capable of.

“Her name?” I asked as I watched the way his snout didn’t even tremble.

If not for his tiny wheezes, I’d think him dead. But he was definitely still breathing… After a few moments of silence, I shook him. His tiny face rolled along my thumb, but ended back where it had been originally. Was his neck broken…? It seemed like it.

“I don’t know, Vim…” Tor said softly as he opened his tiny little eyes. They leaked, and not just tears. “I’ve never seen her before. She talks to me in my head. Her words are so… so loud… and I only know that I have to let them know whenever you visit. Or anything I learn about you, such as from a visitor,” he said. As he spoke, I realized he wasn’t just hurt… he was defeated. He knew it was over, and had no plans to fight or struggle. His broken voice sounded so thin and hollow that it almost made me feel like the bad guy. As if I was the one abusing him, betraying him, and not the other way around.

“Renn,” I said my wife’s name solidly, unafraid to do so.

The tiniest of movement came from Tor as he tried to nod, but couldn’t. It seemed his neck really was broken, or at least something was broken enough to keep him from moving it in any real manner. “Yes… They’re very interested in her.”

Of course they are.

Her though…? And he didn’t know his creator’s name…? Not too hard to believe, since he wasn’t a firstborn. He was several generations separated. It was believable that he’d never actually met the god who created him, and even more believable that they only ever gave him orders from afar. Especially since they likely never wanted to risk me catching wind of them, and thus never came here themselves.

“I told her. I’m sorry. I… I had to. Even when I didn’t want to,” Tor whispered, tiny little hiccups came as he started to tremble again. Though if it was from the pain, or shame, I couldn’t tell.

“When did she first learn of Renn? Did you tell her first, or did she ask first?” I asked, uncaring for such sentimentality. I didn’t fault Tor, not really, but I also didn’t pity him. A monarch could not disobey its creator. It was impossible. Yet that didn’t mean I’d overlook or forgive his transgressions.

“She hadn’t believed me when I told her. The first time I smelled her. Years ago,” Tor said.

Smelled her…? I pondered for a moment, and realized he was right. He had smelled Renn on me on one of my visits here, back in beginning. It had likely been because I had been carrying something of hers and hadn’t given it time to eliminate the smell yet.

A mistake on my part then…? But back then Renn and I had not been romantically involved. So it hadn’t mattered…

Or had it…? After all… as so everyone kept hinting and telling me, Renn and I were supposed to have met and mated a long time ago…

“What do you mean she hadn’t believed you?” I asked carefully.

Odds are the god was listening in now. Or at least, talking to Tor at the moment. I didn’t feel his heart expending much divinity, even to the point it felt as if he was barely even trying to heal from the damage I’d caused him. But I knew a god had ways. Ones even I didn’t know full about, or fully understand.

“She didn’t believe me. Even yelled at me… wanted me to prove it. It’s… why I asked for the heart,” Tor said as he blinked a heavy drop of blood out of his right eye. It landed on my thumb, and as it rolled down along it and down my wrist I realized it had been a tiny drop, it had just looked big and heavy on him.

“Your ancestor’s,” I said softly.

He flinched in a way that told me had again tried to nod his head. “Yes. You would have never allowed it. You knew this whole time I couldn’t do it. That I wasn’t strong enough… but I figured, if the prophecies were true, she’d change you. Make you, or let you, make mistakes. And well…”

“And I did,” I finished for him. Renn actually had his ancestor’s heart right now. In her pocket.

Tor took in a deep breath, and then coughed it out before he could relish it.

I allowed him to cough for a bit, and as I did I glanced around. The cavern we were in was pitch dark… but my eyes had long adjusted. This place looked solemn. Dark and damp. Without his little illusions the place didn’t look comfortable at all. Hardly fitting for a monarch’s resting place.

“What is the message, Tor? Exactly,” I asked, starting to lose interest.

He shivered a bit as he took in a small breath… but then didn’t answer.

“Tor…” I warned him, and readied myself to squeeze once more.

“Your vengeance must end,” Tor then said, speaking clearly. Loudly. As if no longer broken, physically or mentally. I narrowed my eyes at the tiny rodent who lifted his head and stared me straight in the eyes as he did. “You have one opportunity. If you don’t take it, she might.”

I glared for a long moment after Tor finished… and then his head leaned back down and plopped back onto my thumb, and he released a great sigh of relief.

“That’s… it?” I asked. Really?

“Yes… yes… I’m sorry,” Tor whispered weakly.

Hmph.

“Not much of a threat. At least, not anymore than I’ve already received,” I said.

The threat could be interpreted two ways. Either the god was saying she herself was going to do something, presumably take advantage of an opportunity I was ignoring somehow… or Renn was. I couldn’t imagine who else she spoke of.

But it was not very threatening, in my perspective. Even Havoc’s threat had more weight than that. I wonder who this god was…? Did I know them well? Was I misinterpreting something? I doubted Tor had misspoke or forgot to say something… it would not be possible for him to do so. Such was why his body had no longer failed him the moment he went to fulfill his creator’s demand. His very body, even broken, did the impossible to fulfill it. That was how monarchs worked.

Yet…

Rather than a threat… it felt more like a friendly warning, somehow. Which made no sense…

No matter.

“I’m sorry, Vim…” Tor whispered again. He sounded distant, as if he wasn’t even aware of what I’d just said. Maybe he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry too, Tor,” I whispered back as I steeled myself. I took in a small breath as I readied, and nodded. “Know that I don’t fault you. But… now I can’t trust you.”

The small monarch, the hedgehog themed rodent… simply closed his eyes as I squeezed before he could say or do anything in response.

This time I didn’t hold back. I didn’t stop. In an instant I allowed the hatred and pure anger I kept deep within me out, and with a rush of heat up along my spine and then down and out my arm… I crushed Tor.

He popped this time. No longer did he feel like a marshmallow as I squeezed so tightly that no flesh or bone was left in my hand… only one thing remained as blood and flesh fell to the ground with wet noises that echoed throughout the now empty and dark cavern.

Or well, not so dark anymore.

I blinked as I stared at the only thing left in my hand. A glowing orb, about the size of the Renn’s eyeball. It was glowing a brilliant mix of colors of blue and green, swirling with divine energy… and it glowed so brightly that if it had been natural light and not divine light it would have likely blinded my current set of eyes.

Swiping my hand, and the heart, clean of gunk… I stepped away and headed for the exit. Carrying Tor’s heart as I did.

“You didn’t resist at all,” I whispered softly. I’d likely never know if that was by design or not.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep