Villain's Second Chance

15 - A Brother's Confrontation

I stood over the sleeping body of my older brother, Pakhom. For so long he has been the favorite. And once dear old father passes, he will be the next king.

For years I have tried my best to be a good son. To be a good prince. I followed their whims, obeyed their requests, no matter how ridiculous. Many times I thought I'd die, only to make it out with fresh scars.

And yet, they still don't care.

They never did.

Because I'm a traitor.

You...

You were given everything. Powerful astral fire. Impeccable swordsmanship. The tutors of the highest degree. They taught you how to read when you were young. They fed you the most delectable of food within Yatager. You became the fiancé of the princess of Tiānshān.

But I've seen the way you lead. It's pathetic. Unworthy of the status of being king. All you do is play around and treat everything like a game.

You think you're so much better than me?!

Astral energy coalescences into my hands as I will it with righteous anger. A chunk of ice, the same damn chunk of ice I always make, starts to build within my hands.

It grows, and grows, and grows as I fruitlessly pour astral energy into it. But no matter what it's still just a damn chunk.

But now...it's large enough.

I raise the chunk over my hand, then slam it down upon Pakhom's head. His body recoils, a painful gasp leaving his throat. Blood flies through the air as confused eyes awaken.

I hit him again. A scream comes out this time. I hit him once more, the scream is warped. The chunk is turning red. I hit him again, hearing anguished cries and a thrashing body. I hit him again.

I hear nothing but silence.

I hit him again.

I hit him again.

I hit him again.

I hit him again.

I hit him again.

I hit him until that smug face of his no longer exists. For his head is gone.

I take deep breaths...then my face cracks into a smile. He's gone. He's gone.

Laughter bursts through my throat before I can keep it contained. When was the last time I felt this joyous? When was the last time I laughed?

And then a hand gripped my arm. I dropped the ice chunk, trying to step backwards. But the hand wouldn't let go. Pakhom's hand wouldn't let go.

His headless body sat upwards, blood splattered over his clothes. I tried to yank my hand away, but he just wouldn't let go!

"You killed me." A demonic, warbled voice came from somewhere. "And now you must pray the price."

I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't come out. I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't come out. I clawed at my neck, but my voice wouldn't come out.

He smacked me to the ground as I curled within myself. Then I felt the kicks and the punches hounded on me.

"How many times must we beat obedience into you?!" His voice roared.

I held myself within a ball, cursing myself for my own weakness, when suddenly it all stopped. A chill ran down my spine as dark whispers floated into my ears.