FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 415: Scream Prettier!!!
Sol turned back to the third one, who was still standing completely frozen, staring blindly ahead. Sol grabbed its hand, locking its long, rigid fingers down against a petrified log. He used his thick thumbs to catch the edge of the creature’s hollow black nails.
And then he started to peel them off. One by one.
RIP. TEAR.
Because the silver liquid kept the creature’s brain at a standstill, it couldn’t even scream or pull its hand away, but the silver essence magnified the pain receptors inside its mind to the absolute maximum.
The freak’s orange eyes dilated wildly, pulsing with a blinding, frantic light as Sol ripped the black, venomous nails straight out of the yellowish-green flesh of its fingertips. Thick, dark-green gore spurted from the raw beds of its fingers.
Sol didn’t stop until he had torn all four nails from its right hand.”You wanted to roast them alive,” Sol said flatly. “Make the fat melt while they scream for their mothers.”
He slammed the creature onto its back and gathered some dry wood, easily lightened a fire and casually threw him on it.
And soon, its body started cooking, the skin got crispy and fire reached its internal organs, as they began cooking from inside.
Blood bubbled and boiled in its veins.
Its mossy flesh steamed and blistered from the inside out.
The smell of roasting Zerith meat filled the clearing.
The monster thrashed wildly, its legs kicking up mud as its own body roasted it alive.
But Sol kept the heat perfectly controlled… hot enough to cause maximum torment, not hot enough to kill quickly.
He made sure its heart kept beating.
While it screamed, Sol casually broke its legs at the knees and ankles, folding the limbs backward and snapping them into unnatural shapes. Then he started peeling long strips of skin from its chest with his bare fingers, exposing the cooking muscle beneath.
It begged. It cried.
It offered every secret about the Coalition. But it was all in vain, because what seemed like a secret to them just needed him to think for a minute or two to figure it out.
And there was no way in hell, he was ever gonna let go.
In the end, it cursed its own mother for giving him birth and experience this torment.
But Sol didn’t care about any of that, in fact he only leaned closer. “Scream prettier. The children you wanted to eat screamed better than this.”
He kept it cooking and conscious for nearly half an hour before finally letting it die, as there were still others waiting impatiently for this exquisite treatment.
“Three,” Sol said, his voice as steady as a winter grave.
He turned his attention to the fourth and fifth stalkers… the spearmen… who were still standing completely frozen like statues at the edge of the clearing, their long legs locked mid-stride.
Sol walked over to them, his dark carapace armor absorbing the dim light.
He didn’t bother unfreezing them.
He drew the Dreadwing Blade with a fluid, metallic hiss. The sapphire-blue wing-bone saber glowed with an intense, threatening light.
Sol channeled his Sun Core, compressing the vacuum shear along the razor-thin edge, setting the high-frequency vibration to a short, jagged, specialized resonance.
He flicked his wrist twice in two short, blindingly fast horizontal arcs.
ZIIING. ZIIING.
The vacuum lines sliced through the air of the clearing like invisible lasers. But this time, they didn’t hit the trunks; they hit the frozen monsters exactly at the joints of their knees.
Sol flicked his fingers, releasing his silver grip on their brains.
The two spearmen tried their best to make a run, because they had seen the treatment of their fellow men, but alas, the moment the mental freeze vanished, long, yellow-green legs suddenly dropped into the mud beneath them.
Their skeletal torsos sailed forward for another yard before crashing heavily into the roots, tumbling back down into the dirt right at Sol’s feet.
They lay there, staring at the raw, perfectly sheared stumps where their legs used to be, letting out continuous, broken sharp cries that sounded like breaking glass.
They were bleeding out fast, but Sol knelt down, pressing his hands against their wounds, and injected a heavy dose of his golden essence mixed with the silver essence.
The heat of the Sun Core cauterized the arteries instantly, stopping the blood loss, while the silver power acted as a horrific life-support anchor, locking their minds into the nightmare, refusing to let them escape into death.
But alas! The fourth one was really weak hearted and couldn’t hold out for long and managed to die regretfully.
Despite the regret that he wasn’t able to torture it fully, Sol turned his attention to the fifth one… the one who had spoken with manic lust about human women begging… received the most personal treatment.
Sol broke every major bone in its limbs, then pinned it down and stripped away its lower chitin plates. He spent a long time destroying its genitals with deliberate, grinding pressure, all while forcing eye contact.
“You loved it when they offered their bodies, right? When they cried and promised to do anything to save their children.”
Sol made the creature beg exactly like it had described the women doing. Every time it hesitated, he twisted harder. He made it thank him for every new wave of agony. He made it describe in detail what it had wanted to do to human girls… while experiencing a far worse version of it.
The stalker completely broke. It pissed and shat itself. It wept thick orange tears. It offered to betray its entire tribe, everything.
Sol didn’t care.
He kept it alive and tortured far longer than the others, but in the end, it also couldn’t hold on and died.
“Five,” Sol murmured, stepping over its writhing, legless body.
…
The Zerith captain… the last one left intact… was still standing near the stagnant pool of rot-water, completely frozen as a statue, its heavy bone-spear locked in its stiff, multi-jointed fingers. The once-arrogant leader was shaking uncontrollably, its body covered in its own fluids.
The proud sadist had pissed itself in terror.
