Multiverse Switch

Chapter 62 - With A Sword in Hand

That was too easy.

Ink knew that it was too easy. The struggle in the Winter Ball was far challenging than that monstrous thing. They fell for it anyway. Hook, line, and sinker. They wasted almost all their energy while they watched Nightmare harvest it like this was just a dairy farm from his own men and enemies just now. Even the threat of getting his neck snapped was washed by the feeling of leaving adrenaline. His magic weaker and trying to summon even a hand-sized shield was taxing.

On his right Error wasn't doing good either. There was no trace of pain in his face but the lack of struggle already spelled bad things. On the left was Cross weakly trying to claw the thick tentacle around his neck. A sliver of fear in his eyelights added with the dash of frustration. This wasn't going too well.

"I'm impressed. You would actually face threats twice your size," Nightmare said. His turquoise eye light glowing momentarily that Ink could guess was him absorbing the souls.

"Well, what can I say? We fight dangerous octopus for breakfast," ah, curse Ink's inability to keep his quips in check.

Nightmare's scowl became darker. Because he realized the comparison or because Ink was still anoying even in the death? Ink doesn't know.

"You really are strange," Nightmare tilted his head as if assessing the guardian. "I remember the days when you are a living husk. Emotionless."

Nightmare stared right at those eyelights which in turn avoided his gaze but didn't hide the twinge of discomfort. He felt a wolfish grin creeping his feature.

"Yes, I recall how you carry yourself as if you are part of the decor. Not a person. Not even a living. A thing. I wonder..." He trailed as he wielded the tentacle holding the arrogant skeleton close to his face. "Does it haunt you? I can make that happen, Ink. I can fill you with emptiness."

"FUCK YOU!" Ink bellowed as he kicked with all his might. He managed to make the other stagger before he was held in great distance again. There was a slight triumph but not enough to quell the rising panic from the threat.

I CAN'T. I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THAT. A FAKE. A FREAK-

Nightmare sighed as he basked in the pure terror grasping Ink at the moment. He had always enjoyed torturing those who did him wrong. He looked at the rest of his enemies.

"Ink! Snap out of it!" Error's shouted.

His face a visible trace of worry. That's right. Error had been with that slave the longest. Error never had a weakness under his service. Not the most skilled but evidently ruthless. A force of destruction. Knowing that and seeing how far this man in front of him fell was disappointing. If he followed his desire with Cross he would have ended up with the same fate. In a world where power controls the people, your weakness lies within those you care about. Dragging each other to the depths of Hell.

"Are you willing to die for him, Error?" Nightmare asked.

Error looked at his direction. A look promising of death and beyond. The emotions of rage and contemplation echoed right back at the King of Atalante. Oh, his little former general wanted to fight! How endearing.

"That would be too quick, too merciful, isn't it? I believe you deserve a more cruel punishment," Nightmare said as he raised one tentacle. A special torture for a special ruination of his reign.