Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious - Chapter 253 - 41

“I’m going to the peak.”

Seijirou said as he stared at the distant temple.

Ryusui nodded firmly, his grip tightening on the ancestral blade as the iron gates groaned under the weight of the possessed mob.

“Kageyama boy, you go to the temple and stop that darn priest. If he is the source of this madness, his head is the only thing that will quiet these people. We will stay here and protect Yuko. As long as I draw breath, no monk will cross this threshold.”

Seijirou paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Yuko, who looked pale and fragile amidst the chaos, and then to Haruka, whose sapphire bow was already notched with a fresh arrow.

He didn’t like leaving them behind, but he knew the logic was sound. If that priest and whatever he’s planning wasn’t stopped, then the entire town would eventually be ground into the dirt.

He nodded. “Alright. Keep them safe gramps. I’ll deal with them quickly and come back soon.”

“There is no need to clear a path, just jump over them. Don’t waste your energy on them,” said Miyako, her voice calm and chillingly practical.

Seijirou nodded, his silver-gold Ki flaring around his feet like a localized solar flare.

“Seijirou-sama…” Yuko suddenly spoke, grabbing his attention, “Please be careful.”

Haruka nodded, “Yes. We don’t know what kind of monster you’ll be facing there.

Seijirou turned towards them and nodded, then, without hesitation, he launched himself toward the gate.

He sailed over the bent iron bars, and for a fleeting second, he looked like a god descending upon the damned as he used the heads of the crowded fanatics as stepping stones, his touch light enough not to crush them but firm enough to propel him forward.

With a final, massive leap, he landed on the tiled rooftop of a nearby house.

And without looking back, he immediately jumped from rooftop to rooftop, like a blurred streak of bronze and gold cutting through the night air.

Below him, the village was a sea of orange fire and mindless chanting, but his eyes were fixed solely on the dark silhouette of the temple rising at the end of the ridge.

*

*

*

In the depths of the temple, the atmosphere was thick with the stench of incense and unwashed flesh.

The bloated High Priest was sitting on a throne of cushions, his massive, oily body glistening in the candlelight.

He was playing around with a group of young girls whose eyes looked completely dead, stripped of all human spark.

Looking at the jagged stretch marks across their pale bellies, it was hideously clear that they had already been forced to give birth to multiple children for the temple’s dark purposes.

Around him, several of the deformed, inbred bastards were fully naked, slamming their hips repeatedly to a completely naked women who lied on the floor, eyes blank, and unable to move.

“Ah, mother! Mother! You’re just the best!”

“I’m your favourite child, right? I am right!?”

“Fuck off! I’m mother’s favourite child!”

“Shut up! She is my sister, obviously I’m her favourite! Sister, let’s have another child!”

Obviously, they received no response from the women, whose mouth were covered by their own thing, tears falling from their eyes as it reached down their throat.

“This is a celebration!” the High Priest laughed, his voice a wet, guttural sound that echoed off the stone walls as he raised one of the young girls by the leg as if she was a doll, “Before the night is over, the stars will align, and our Great God will finally awaken! The Midorima line will be consumed, and we shall be the masters of this world!”

The high priest brought his nose close to the girl’s groin and sniffed it, “Ah~! This one just had her period! She can now participate in our ritual!”

The girl stared at everything with a blank, hazy eyes, as if she had been drunk and drugged, and couldn’t even form any coherent speech.

Everyone around him cheered and laughed, their voices high-pitched and discordant.

Just then, as the High Priest was about to violate the girl, the heavy wooden doors of the sanctum were burst open with a desperate force.

Everyone was startled and turned their gaze and saw a monk, his robes torn and his face covered in soot, hurried inside and collapsed onto the stone floor.

“High Priest! High Priest! Emergency!”

“What is it now?” the High Priest growled, his mood souring instantly. “Can’t you see we are in the middle of a holy communion?”

“We… we failed to capture the destined Miko! The Midorima house resisted!” the monk wheezed, his eyes wide with terror. “And that’s not all… one of the Ki users from the city has already broken through the blockade! He’s rushed past the village and is coming toward here!”

“What!?” The High Priest stood up in shock, his massive folds of fat jiggling with every movement, his face turning a dark, bruised purple. “Just how incompetent are you!? Even those people I manipulated to cause a riot couldn’t stop one man!? There are hundreds of them! He should have been torn limb from limb!”

The High Priest opened his mouth to scream more orders, but the sound never came out.

At that exact moment, a blur of motion appeared from the shadows of the high rafters as a foot, reinforced with a terrifying amount of concentrated Ki, slammed down onto the kneeling monk’s head.

The force was so immense that the stone floor beneath the monk shattered instantly, breaking down and burying the man’s head deep into the rubble.

The dust cleared, and Seijirou appeared.

He stood in the center of the room, his body glowing with a fierce, golden aura, his eyes burning with a lethal coldness.

His gaze then sweep across the opulent, rotting sanctuary as he stared at the fat High Priest, whose trembling jiggles of fat were a grotesque contrast to the divine authority he claimed.

Then, his eyes moved to the girls who lay naked on the floor.

They were a sight that made his blood run cold—their eyes were glassy and vacant, looking as if they were already dead.

They were covered in a thick, drying white semen, their limbs positioned in unnatural ways, rendered unable to even move a muscle.

If they weren’t twitching from time to time, that tiny, involuntary spasms of trauma, Seijirou would have thought that they were indeed corpses.

He could sense their shattered psyches, the way their souls had been hollowed out and became a playthings for these monsters.

They are in so much trauma that Seijirou felt like them dying would be a far more merciful fate than this existence of perpetual violation.

His eyes burned with a cold, burning hot fury that seemed to darken the golden hue of his aura as the silver light of his ki reflecting in his pupils sharpened into needles.

“Really,” Seijirou whispered, his voice vibrating with a low-frequency menace that caused the candles burning in the room to flicker. “So there are more people like that ’Mister’ guy… I think death is a mercy for people like you. No, death is the easy way out. I’m going to make sure your exit from this world is as painful as the lives you’ve ruined.”

“Damn it! Stop him! Kill him! Offer his organs to the altar!” The High Priest screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek of panic.

Under the influence of his command, the inbred bastards, blinded by their fanatical zeal and their distorted lust, immediately rushed towards him, grabbing some weapons that were used to draw blood from the women as offerings and for rituals.

Meanwhile, the High Priest, showing a surprising amount of speed for a man of his bulk, turned and ran, his bare feet slapping against the stone as he intended to head towards the inner prayer room where the faceless altar sat.

Seijirou didn’t even look at the Priest. He didn’t need to, after all, he knew the man couldn’t outrun his reach.

At that moment, the first inbred bastard approached him, swinging a rusted sacrificial sickle with a maddened grin.

Seijirou didn’t even bother to dodge and just stepped into the man’s space and delivered a kick to the cheek.

The strike was so blindingly fast and so impossibly powerful that the sheer kinetic energy didn’t just break bone—it twisted the man’s head by a full 180 degrees!

The sound of the spine snapping was like a dry branch breaking in a silent forest as the man dropped to the floor, dead before his body even realized it had been hit.

“Stop me?” Seijirou took a deep breath, the golden Ki around him expanding into a pressurized dome that cracked the nearby pillars. “Try it.”

The remaining inbred bastards gulped in visible fear, their primitive minds finally registering the predator in their midst.

But the brainwashing ran deep; they swallowed their fear and forced themselves to smile like idiots, their droopy eyes bulging as they rushed towards him in a disorganized swarm.

Seijirou rushed towards them, moving like a golden scythe through a field of weeds.

He didn’t grant them the quick end he had given the first one, instead, he made sure to make them suffer before killing them.

He moved with clinical, terrifying precision, catching a wrist and snapping the forearm like kindling, then driving a heel into a knee until the joint reversed.

He moved like a whirlwind of calculated agony, breaking their limbs one by one, letting them feel the weight of their own fragility.

Only after their screams reached a crescendo did he finish it, his hands flashing out to break their necks with a cold, final snap.

Each time a body hit the floor, Seijirou was already moving to the next, his eyes never losing that terrifying, vengeful light.