The Villain's Story Chapter [597] Hypocrite.

Chapter 597: [597] Hypocrite.

Why am I hesitating?

That question plagued his mind, as he, unlike himself, struggled to bring his spear down on the foes on this treacherous walls. Their pure white wings awakened an emotion inside of him, a feeling he was sincerely unaware of right now.

Something...that forced him to not do it, to do his best to not kill these people.

Therefore, he asked himself once again.

"Why am I...hesitating?"

He muttered in the throes of battle, his spear blocked and destroyed the weapons of the attackers, but it did not pierce them, it did not stab them, it did not cut them.

Alan was shaken, he looked at the celestials, their eyes, their bodies, their wings... Something prevented him from reaping their lives.

They were just like humans, the same height, the same skin color, albeit some things would be different due to their aspects... The only stark and common difference was the wings that decorated their backs. A symbol of pride among them, and something that sparked something within.

He finally managed to kill one, and when he did, he stopped to look at the blood that covered his hands, that flowed from the tip of his shaking spear. This moment of reluctance...he had to pay a bitter price to achieve it.

Spears pierced his steel like body, arrows littered his back, all of them enchanted with terrifying enchantments.

The roars of a distinct magical cannon could be heard, it's bullet racing towards him. It hit, but Alan didn't sway.

'Is it because they resemble...humans?'

He reached a conclusion, but he knew it was far, far from the truth. If that truly was the case... Alan would have felt nothing if he killed them. He killed far too many humans to count, some necessary, most unnecessary. He was not a kind man.

He was the devil himself, when needed to be. He looked at most humans with disdain, as expected of his race, the one that stood at the very top! He wasn't...like this before, however.

Excusing the minor incident back at the orphanage where he was suddenly filled with bloodl.u.s.t towards a young girl... He didn't really have a desire to kill humans back then, nor did he hold a particular disdain for them. He simply didn't even care.

But he wasn't willing to kill them, for no reason at all, back then... That slowly changed when he evolved. He felt more dragon, than human. Although the latter was his original race... He began to develop a hatred of them, hate because of how weak they were.

Of how insignificant in the grand scheme of things, At that time, he was also beginning to suffer from his nightmares, or the 'visions' he saw. They still plagued him, leading him to gain no ample rest in a few nights at all...but perhaps the harrowing visions distorted his mind.

When he saw battles of epic proportions, battles raging from planet to planet... Humanity was bound to feel insignificant. When he saw Supreme beings being killed left and right.

So then why, why did he feel like he didn't want to kill these Celestials, but be like a hero like Elijah, or Ardoris, and care for them and protect them...

Why?

"AGH!"

A mighty blow stuck him in the chest, it pushed one of the spears already inside his body further, and it exited out of his back, his body acted without the a.s.sistance of his mind, and used his spear to cut the attacker down.

And then he hesitated some more. As his wounds struggled to heal, a testament to the sheer power behind the attacks... The bloodline of the Phoenix, was struggling. Of course, it was, it was a.s.saulted by a thousand different aspects, some of which had to have stopped his healing, and eve debilitate him further. But it was still the bloodline of one of the strongest G.o.d beasts that ever existed... It persevered and continued to provide him life.

He felt...betrayed.

But he also felt like a traitor.

The feeling was mutual... It was as if he had not only betrayed these Celestials, but they had also betrayed him.

How dare they strike him? How dare he strike them? That feeling continued to grow, until the mind was burdened by its weight and gave up. His mind struggled to understand, even peering into the Celestials with the help of dragon eyes did not help...

Is this...the power of fate? Something that compelled him to do...this? Celestials did have an affinity for it... Was this what Lanesha meant...? Was something effecting him?

'No.'

It couldn't be that simple. Could it? He refused to believe that such meager celestials could control something like fate... Even though he didn't understand it, He still knew something. Based on Lanesha's reactions...and her words about it, the emotions she tried to hide when mentioning it...meant that it could not be changed, not by a supreme.

So if a supreme was unable to do it...what could these delicate beings do? What could they possibly do. How was changing fate supposed to even make him hesitate?

He didn't know...so he gave up. He gave up trying to understand it and let his mind shut down, a technique taught to him by sword saint Arken.

'Sometimes, it's better not to think too much...and just let your instincts take control.'

It seemed he still had a lot to learn from his master... He should probably visit when he got back... He ignored the old man for too long.

He shut his mind down, and let his instincts, his body honed by training so cruel a human couldn't withstand it. A training that even brought a new meaning to the word tired, to a dragon nonetheless. His muscles had their own memory, as well.

He expelled mana from his body, which took all the 'other' things riddling his body with wounds with it, The phoenix bloodline, finally unperturbed, launched into action and healed

his wounds.

And that was the last conscious act he did...

If the sight of their deaths disturbed him... He would close his eyes.

If the song of their screams disturbed him, he would tear his eardrums from within.

If the smell of their blood disturbed him, he would make it so that he would never smell it

again.

And thus...

The true ma.s.sacre began, and Alan slowly received a new t.i.tle, being unaware of.

[You have received a new t.i.tle: Traitorous Hypocrite.]