The Abused is The Abuser in Another World

Chapter 16: A Pact Sealed in Blood

Noir felt a surge of fury so intense that his vision blurred for a moment. His crimson eyes flared, glowing faintly in the dim light, as he struggled to contain the violent rage boiling inside him. He gripped the handle of the Grimreaper tightly, its sharp blade vibrating with the force of his anger.

With each step he took, the air seemed to thicken. His movements were deliberate, radiating a barely contained violence. Nicolas, the village leader, turned at the sound of Noir's approach, and for a brief moment, fear flickered in his eyes before being replaced with mocking amusement.

"Oh, don't get so worked up," Nicolas sneered, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "They're just goblins! Worthless creatures. Why are you so angry about it?"

Noir's jaw clenched, his voice a low, deadly hiss. "How did you get them?" he asked, each word laced with barely controlled wrath.

Nicolas's eyes gleamed with perverse delight. "I hired mercenaries, of course," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "They gather goblins for me, bring them back while they sleep... all so I can conduct my little experiments."

Noir's fury flared, his crimson eyes burning with a cold, deadly fire. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "All this time... you knew the reason behind the raids, didn't you?"

Nicolas shrugged, chuckling darkly. "Of course, I knew. But their reasons don't concern me. My hobby—" he leaned in, his grin widening—"is much more interesting."

Noir's hands trembled, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a swift, violent motion, he grabbed Nicolas by the collar, dragging him up the ladder and out of the dark cellar.

The night air hit them as Noir flung Nicolas to the ground. His chest heaved with barely restrained rage. "Lyralei! Thalor!" he called, his voice cutting through the stillness.

From the shadows, the two elves appeared swiftly, their movements graceful yet tense, sensing the urgency in Noir's voice.

"Come with me," Noir commanded, his tone sharp and precise. "There's something you need to see."

Without hesitation, the three descended back into the cellar, where the stench of death and decay hit them. Lyralei's sharp green eyes scanned the room, her normally calm demeanor faltering as she took in the gruesome sight. The small, lifeless bodies of goblin children lay scattered, their skulls cracked open, wires and metal rods protruding from their exposed brains.

Thalor, always composed, clenched his fists at the sight, the tension evident in his jaw. His deep blue eyes darkened as he processed the horror before him, his mind no doubt calculating the full extent of what had been done.

Lyralei whispered, her voice steady despite the emotion behind it. "This is... unspeakable." Her silver-white hair glinted in the faint light, her expression hardening as the shock gave way to anger.

Noir's voice was cold as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Nicolas. "Now you see why."

Thalor, calm but fierce, nodded, his voice low. "This man is beyond redemption."

"Bring him to Grid," Noir ordered, his tone final, leaving no room for mercy.

Lyralei and Thalor acted swiftly, dragging Nicolas back up the ladder, his screams and pleas falling on deaf ears. They had seen enough. Their resolve was unshakable now.

With firm, unyielding strides, Noir led the group through the forest toward the riverbed where Grid and his goblins had made camp. Lyralei and Thalor followed closely behind, carefully carrying the lifeless bodies of the goblin children. The somberness in their steps mirrored the weight of the grief they now bore.