Overlord: Blue Citadel Alternate

Blood was caked across his World Champion Class attire, and even on his face. His amethyst eyes shone brightly from beneath his stained silvery hair, his pupils as thin as needles. His gaze traced over the human remains which were sewn across the walls and the floors of the brothel.

These beings, these mercenaries had put up a good fight. Though it didn't last long. He killed each and every single one of them before they could reach the door. Even the ones that practically surrendered weren't spared.

Why? Because he was caught up in the moment. Almost like a beast he hardly processed their cries for mercy as he had torn them asunder. He didn't see them as human beings, not any longer, they were nothing but chew toys.

The Workers and enforcers of the Eight Finger Syndicate were wasted, dead, more than dead. Not a single body was left in tact as they were heavily mutilated, torn apart, and since the place was muted to the outside world, no one heard it.

No one would know until the stench crept out into the streets, or some poor sap came to investigate the brothel.

Vertum had gone room to room, killing noblemen and customers who were beating and forcing the women to do their bidding. Soon the place was quiet, eerily so. There was no escape for those who had committed sin in his eyes, although that was not the reason he had done this act. Killing them was merely something he could do and that he allowed himself to do, fulfilling an urge which he usually suppressed. Violence was usually something he didn't like taking too keenly to, but he had no real problem doing it.

As he collected the trafficked females into the main room where he had originally appeared. He tended to them, healing their bruises and physical scars, and even curing their transmitted diseases. To them, he had become a miracle worker, a God who had descended in their time of need. At the same time however, he worked with cold efficiency, little bedside manner as he had no idea when the next wave of individuals would come flooding in through the bas.e.m.e.nt door.

From the memories of the man who he had devoured, there was a tunnel network beneath the Capital City of Re-Estize. It was likely what they used to move their slaves about and other contraband which had been made illegal through the Golden Princess's attempts at reforming the Kingdom.

All these women, he freed them even though he had originally planned to just leave them behind. He hadn't known them, he only had one goal and that was to collect Tuare.

He could have just stopped at killing the Head of the Department, but he didn't...

He was now back to his more humane, practical and calm self.

Had he really gotten too absorbed in what he had done? His eyes traveled over each and every one of them. Part of them feared him for his power and brutality, part of them didn't want to leave his presence in fear more men would come.

In retrospect, he quickly found that none of them were bad looking. Sure some may be mundane, from a poor village, but some of them were even elves likely bought from the Theocracy and smuggled into the country.

Letting out a sigh as one of them spoke up.

"Mister... Th-thank you for saving us..." She had to have been around seventeen. She practically fell to her knees in front of him, her hands clasped up towards him as if to give him holy praise.

Vertum just stared down at her for a few seconds before letting out a light sigh. Though he had no idea if he could procreate with humans just yet, as there was evidence as well as legends of half-humanoid and half-heteromorphic beings, he knew his regular human residence within the City very well could.

"I did not save you for the mere p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e of doing so or for the goodwill of it," Vertum informed as he used the motion of two fingers to call her back to her feet. "You have choices to make."

"B-but..."

"N-no way..."

They all immediately thought the worst, as he said he didn't save them because he could. He saved them because he wanted something from them, something that probably only they could give. Almost immediately he was no longer the answer to their prayers, or at least, they became skeptical of him but still grateful.

"My name is Vertum," his eyes seemed to shine as the blood on his clothing and on his body seemed to steam away, as if being burnt off. His head tilted to the side slightly, "I am founding a nation, and as a fledgling nation, a nation needs people. If you wish to stay here and escape on your own, you may do so at your own risk." Pausing, the dragonoid looked over them before continuing. "However, I will not protect you if you dare choose to stay. So, the only alternative is joining me..."

"Frontier...?" Many of them questioned, realizing he was talking about the Re-Estize Territories near E-Rantel, the ones constantly plagued by threats of death.

The same one that had dropped to her knees stared up at him. She was about five feet tall, malnourished with messy blonde hair and green eyes. She pursed her lips up at him, "If we don't have to live like this anymore... If we can finally be free... Then we will come with you."

It seemed the woman spoke for all the rest as they nodded along. Though the elves seemed a bit reluctant to go, it seemed they sided with their human counterparts.

Many of them seemed to have regained their senses as the healing he used to cure their afflictions, cured the drugs used by the Eight Fingers to shrink their minds.

A few seconds before he was about to open a gate, was when two of them moved forward, attempting to hang on the man who had saved them. Their intent was made clear as they went on trying to dr.a.p.e their arms around him. He didn't want their warmth, even though it did offer him some bits of p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e. He didn't know them and he didn't want to know them, there was only one thing they needed to do in order to show their gratitude.

Vertum quickly shrugged them off as a swift counter, and with quick footwork, silently made for the other side of the room. They looked at him with shock seeing as they were denied, but what happened next caught them completely off guard.

They were expecting to go out the front door... Or some elaborate back door entrance.

"Now, try to land on your feet." He then held up his hand towards them as a false somatic gesture, instantaneously opening a gateway portal to Carne Village directly beneath their feet. "Good luck," The dragon chuckled at their surprise when there was suddenly nothing beneath their feet. Their silent surprise was abruptly broken by very brief squeaks of surprise. The gate then closed seconds later, bringing silence back to the brothel.

The dragonoid then looked towards the direction of the stairwell as he stepped back into the corridor sown with gore.

In the next few seconds he strode down those steps and made his way over to the door which lead to the bas.e.m.e.nt and into the tunnel system beneath the city. Sniffing the air, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly, he quickly gained a general idea of how many people were in the tunnels and where they exited.

"This isn't my city," Vertum huffed quietly to himself, l.i.c.k.i.n.g his lips. There was no reason for him to continue his onslaught against the Eight Fingers, besides the fact that they were an internationally involved criminal group. "Not my country," he rolled his jaw thinking he was doing their work for them without even being asked.

He wasn't going to do that.

Though alternatively, If he didn't get rid of them, there was likely going to be a panic due to the sudden disappearance of one of their heads and the deaths of countless workers under their employ. Just how well would their mercenaries feel working under an employer who was attacked by an unknown assailant?

A grin formed over his lips as he thought about the chaos that would ensue. He even caught himself chuckling to the very idea of it. Though the ones he really wanted to eliminate were the Eight Finger's security department, but he was sure he could leave them to the Princess.

Vertum was at least knowledgeable of the woman using the Blue Roses as a political tool. Even with the current slave brothel out of the way, he was sure there would be another propping up.

If one didn't cut off all of the heads of the hydra, another one would always grow back in its place. Though that idea somewhat sickened him, he found it rather appealing as there would be something to do every now and then.

Slavery seemed to have been abolished here, but in the Theocracy and the Empire, it was widespread and common in other nations. Heck even the beastmen enslaved humans, despite the fact that they'd use them as food. Not that he really liked the idea of it...

Opening a portal once more, directly to the chamber in which he left Ninya, Tuare and Dyne to their own devices in prior, he stepped through.