Undead Beast Master: Living Solely for My Desires-Chapter 46: Fear

'Isn't this situation completely ridiculous?' Zaroth thought bitterly.

'I could have summoned Luna before the man approached, seeing her, Eryndor would have been more hesitant to attack, and this wouldn't have happened.'

Zaroth slowly observed his surroundings.

Zack was laying on the ground, beheaded, dead. Strangely enough, he wasn't bleeding at all.

Roran, despite blood leaking from his eyes and mouth, had somehow managed to reach Lily's body.

Despite his current state, he was muttering something as his bloody tears fell onto her quickly dying body.

"I was hesitating... hesitating to reveal my powers to my comrades... and this is the result of my foolish actions."

He gritted his teeth. "Completely and utterly failing as a leader of the squad."

Eryndor was silently gazing at Zaroth, lost in thought. It seemed that seeing another Beast Master had made him hesitate to go immediately for the kill.

Was it because Eryndor felt something as ridiculous as they were similar in nature?

No one could tell, nor did anyone truly care.

Eryndor's beasts were currently standing by.

The three-headed beast was looking at its palm in confusion, wondering why there wasn't any blood on it despite having beheaded Zack just a second ago.

The bird-like creature with metallic feathers tilted its head in confusion as it gazed at Roran, crying over Lily's body.

Silverfang was slowly trying to get on his feet, but it seemed a lot of his bones were broken, so he was having trouble.

Honestly, it was hard to imagine a situation where they were more screwed than this one.

"Why?" Zaroth asked in frustration.

"Why did you succumb to your beasts?! Are you that weak mentally to not be able to resist the temptations of your beasts?!"

Eryndor's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, not expecting the sudden question.

"You are a Beast Master like me, so I think you would be able to understand," his voice was menacing, yet carried a hint of regret.

"Just because in the past one legendary Beast Master went on a rampage, destroying an entire continent, now everyone looks at us with suspicion!"

Eryndor shifted his gaze to Zaroth's companions.

"You might have told a few close friends your class, but you haven't told anybody else, right?! It's because you know that if you do, you will be made a public enemy, as in their eyes, there is always the possibility of you going insane."

Eryndor stretched his arms to the side as he glanced at the sky.

"So I thought, fuck it! If they fear me so much, then I will give them a legitimate reason!"

"So your plan is to go around killing people as much as you please?" Zaroth spoke as he used his arm to grab a tree for support, slowly standing up.

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"Yes. Don't tell me you have a problem with that?" Eryndor raised an eyebrow.

"No," Zaroth answered instantly.

"Whatever you kill, a hundred or a million people, is not something that concerns me at all, but..."

Zaroth's gaze shifted to his comrades.

"I finally found people that I connected to on some level... and you dare to hurt them? You dare try to steal something from me?"

Zaroth spat as his voice became more menacing with each word he spoke.

"For the sin of trying to stand against me and trying to steal what's mine, I will kill you. I will tear you to shreds!"

Eryndor burst into laughter as he heard Zaroth's declaration,

"And how the hell do you plan to do that?! When you are completely alone? Against me and my Epic beasts?!"

"I am not alone... not anymore," Zaroth spoke coldly as he returned Eryndor's menacing gaze with one of his own.

Eryndor was about to respond until something caught his attention.

The blood below Zaroth was moving in a certain direction.

Somewhere behind him.

Eryndor turned around, searching for the reason.

Before him stood a headless body, towering, the severed head clutched tightly in its right hand.

It was Zack.

He slowly raised his head as he put it back into place, his white pupils seemed unfocused as he muttered.

"I will not die... not until I have killed them for what they did."

Suddenly, the blood on the ground surged toward him, and a menacing armor, giving off a threatening presence, formed from the blood that was beginning to harden around Zack's body.

A giant sword, more than two meters long, appeared in his right hand, slowly growing with each second.

"Forbidden act... blood manipulation."

"Wha—" Eryndor was stunned for a moment until he felt a menacing presence to his side.

He turned, his heart stopped for a second as he met Roran's gaze—eyes dripping with blood, an expression filled with a wish for vengeance.

"I swore an oath... I will not fail again."

Suddenly, dozens of two-meter-long golden swords manifested from thin air, each one sharp enough as if ready to tear reality apart.

"These swords— all of them seem worthy to be held by a king, and he commands dozens of them?" Eryndor muttered, a chill running down his spine.

Roran spoke, clutching Lily's bleeding body in his arms, his voice burning with raw rage.

"I'll mangle you,"

Eryndor's mind raced—had they been hiding their true power all along? A cold sweat broke out across his forehead. This wasn't a situation he had taken into account.

Then, a cold, distant voice sliced through the tension.

Zaroth.

Eryndor's heart dropped as he felt a menacing presence behind him. His blood froze solid, and for the first time, he felt like he wasn't in control.

He was a Beast Master who commanded two Epic beasts, capable of easily destroying a country given the right circumstances, but in that moment, he didn't feel like a hunter anymore.

He felt like prey.

"Luna... come forth."

A tall woman with white hair and green cat-like eyes suddenly materialized in front of Zaroth, her gaze sharp as she glanced at the enemies in front of her, her expression one of utter indifference.

Eryndor's body shivered, as did the bodies of his beasts.

For the first time in a long while, something cold, something he hadn't felt in years, twisted in his chest as his heart raced uncontrollably and his breathing turned ragged.

The most primal feeling of all.

Fear.