Notice: this Author is lazy soo expect some series of Hiatus.
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. →[ Liam Scurnt }
. Race: Dark Knight (Cursed)
. Status: Normal
The echo of chanting still lingered in the ruined cathedral as Liam stepped through its broken doors. Behind him, the cultists continued their prayers, their voices rising and falling like waves breaking against cliffs. None dared to follow him. To them, he was not a man to be approached. He was a prophecy made flesh.
Outside, the world was painted in dim twilight. The red sky from earlier had softened into a deep indigo, pierced by strange constellations unfamiliar to him. They pulsed faintly, almost alive, like eyes watching from a distance.
Liam stared at them, his armored hand tightening around the grip of his greatsword.
So those are the Constellations… the so-called gods of this world.
As if in response to his thoughts, the system stirred again:
> [Notice: Hostility from 1 Constellation detected.]
[Interference prevented by Emotion Suppression.]
He blinked. So soon? They already noticed him. His chest should have tightened at the thought of being hunted by divine beings… but it didn't. Instead, there was only a distant, muted awareness of the danger.
Liam took a deep breath and exhaled. It was steady, controlled. Too steady.
This isn't normal. I should be afraid. I should be angry. Something.
His thoughts swirled, but the waves of panic that should have followed never came. It was like Emotion Suppression had wrapped his soul in heavy chains, forcing calm upon him whether he wanted it or not.
He clenched his gauntlet. "If I can't feel fear… can I even feel joy? Or guilt? Or… regret?"
The words echoed in the empty night, unanswered.
---
He walked down the cracked stone steps of the cathedral, his boots crunching against the gravel. The land surrounding the ruins stretched wide and empty. Half-buried skeletons jutted from the soil, rusted swords still clutched in bony hands. A battlefield, long forgotten.
As Liam moved, the system's interface flickered again.
> [Instant Death – Active Authority available.]
[Emotion Suppression – Passive effect engaged.]
[Soul Corruption: 1%.]
His gaze fell on a small movement in the grass. A rat-like creature, larger than any normal rodent, with eyes glowing faintly green, scurried out from the bones. It froze upon seeing him, its back arched in a defensive hiss.
Liam paused. His instincts urged him to test. To know the limits of the power given to him.
He raised his hand slightly. His thoughts sharpened. Die.
The creature collapsed instantly, its body stiff, its glow snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Not even a twitch. No scream. Just silence.
A window appeared before him:
> [Target eliminated.]
[Experience gained: +1.]
[Instant Death Skill – Efficiency 100%.]
Liam's throat went dry. He had killed again, with no effort, no resistance. His stomach should have churned with disgust, but instead he felt nothing. No satisfaction, no guilt. Just… emptiness.
Is it the skill… or is it me?
He looked down at his armored reflection in a puddle beside the corpse. Twin black hole eyes stared back at him, rimmed in crimson glow. He tried to remember his old human face, but it was already blurring in his memory.
---
The silence broke. A rustling came from the treeline beyond the battlefield. Multiple shapes slithered out from the shadows—wolf-like beasts with skeletal faces and exposed ribs glowing faintly with ghostly light. Their hollow howls pierced the air as they circled him.
The system immediately lit up:
> [Threat detected: Class-D Undead Beasts – "Bonefang Wolves."]
[Recommended Action: Combat.]
Liam lifted his blade. The greatsword felt impossibly heavy, yet his new body carried it as if it were an extension of his arm. The wolves crept closer, drool sizzling on the ground like acid.
For a moment, Liam considered whispering that single command—Die—and ending them all at once. It would be easy. Too easy.
But something in him resisted. If he relied only on Instant Death, he'd never know his own strength. Worse, he'd become dependent. And what if there were enemies it didn't work on?
So instead, he tightened his grip and waited.
The first wolf lunged. Liam swung his blade. The steel cleaved through its skull with brutal force, scattering bone fragments across the dirt. Another leapt from the side; he twisted, the weight of his armor carrying his body in a crushing spin that smashed the beast into the ground.
It was messy, clumsy compared to his imagined skill, but effective. One after another, the wolves fell. Their ghostly cores flickered out as Liam's blade carved through them.
When the last beast collapsed, Liam stood still, his breaths steady, his armor stained with ichor that hissed and steamed against the black steel.
The system's voice chimed again:
> [Combat Complete.]
[Experience gained: +17.]
[Level Up: 2 → 3.]
Liam lowered his weapon slowly. His chest should have been pounding with adrenaline. His hands should have been trembling. Yet they were steady. His breathing calm. Too calm.
> [Emotion Suppression: Effect engaged.]
He looked down at the corpses. For a moment, he forced himself to release the suppression.
A wave of sensation crashed into him—revulsion, horror, guilt, exhilaration. His knees buckled, his breath caught, and his heart hammered violently. He gasped for air as if drowning.
Then, with a thought, the system suppressed it again. The flood receded instantly, leaving him hollow and composed once more.
Liam wiped his blade against the grass. "So that's how it works… It doesn't erase my emotions. It cages them. Locks them away until I decide otherwise."
But the warning echoed in his memory. Prolonged use erodes empathy.
Would he even want to unlock those chains later? Or would he forget that he was ever meant to feel at all?
---
As he stood there, the sky above pulsed again. One of the constellations flared brighter, sending a streak of light that carved across the heavens.
The system trembled:
> [Constellation: The Spear of Dawn has taken interest in you.]
[Apostle of the Spear of Dawn descending nearby.]
Liam lifted his gaze, emotionless calm settling over him once more.
"So… one of your Apostles, huh?" His voice was cold, almost inhuman.
"Then let them come."
The chains around his heart tightened.
And for the first time, Liam wondered—did he really still want them to break...