Chapter 166: The Weight of rcy
CH166 The Weight of rcy
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Alex knew what he was doing didn’t make sense.
He understood there was no hope for the won.
And yet... he still wanted to hope.
Because the alternative was too cruel—both for them and for him.
Any female unfortunate enough to be captured by a goblin tribe was brutalised so horrifically that nine out of ten never recovered.
They either took their own lives... or remained hollow shells until the end.
A short, painful end.
Goblins weren’t exactly hygienic. Living among them ant infections, festering wounds, and untreated illness.
What remained for any female—human or otherwise—was misery.
"Lieutenant, your secondary weapon," Alex said, extending his hand.
Lieutenant Cross hesitated. "Young Lord, you don’t have to do this. You should—"
"If you think I’m the kind of leader who has others dirty their hands on my behalf, just to keep mine clean, then you don’t know
at all."
Alex’s voice was steady and cold, yet resolute.
"I am ordering you, Lieutenant Kain Cross, as Commander of this platoon, and as the young lord of the noble house you swore fealty—hand
your blade and stand back."
Lieutenant Cross clenched his jaw tightly.
After a few seconds, he exhaled and gave a respectful bow. "I, Kain Cross, shall obey."
He retrieved his side dagger and solemnly handed it to Alex.
"This is a deed I will bear myself," Alex murmured, accepting the blade.
He stepped closer to the won, kneeling before them with a calmness that seed unnatural.
"We’ve killed the ones who did this to you. It’s not much... but I hope it gives you a fragnt of peace."
He looked each woman in the eyes, making sure to morise their faces. Then, with swift, precise motions, he drove the blade into their hearts—one after another.
No hesitation. No wavering.
He stayed kneeling for a mont in silence, then rose and went to the other victims—beastkin, demi-humans, even monsters—all females, all broken beyond healing.
He granted them all a rciful end.
When he returned, his expression was unreadable.
"Have the n give the won a proper burial," he said to Lieutenant Cross. "Even those of beast and monster kin. They deserve dignity in death."
"And the goblins?"
"As much as I’d like to leave their corpses to the scavengers like the vermin they were, we can’t risk an epidemic. Still burn them all in a mass pyre."
"Understood." Cross gave a firm nod.
"Oh... and one more thing, Lieutenant."
"Yes, Commander?"
Alex’s gaze darkened.
"I want every single goblin that ever set foot in this forest dead. Their heads will be my parting gift to the won."
Though his voice was even, the air itself seed to drop several degrees.
A smouldering cold rage boiled beneath his calm exterior.
"As you command," Cross said with a grave expression.
Alex gave a single nod and turned away, making his way out of the cave.
Lieutenant Cross and Udara watched him go, an unfamiliar heaviness pressing on their chests.
The Pangea realm was a world of endless war. To rise to greatness here, one’s path was built on blood and sacrifice.
But not all deaths... and not all kills... could be buried.
So would cling to the soul, lingering for a lifeti.
And for Alex Fury, this was one such death. One such choice.
Whether it would beco a shadow haunting his steps... or a fire that pushed him forward—only ti would tell.
"I hope... all turns out well," Lieutenant Cross muttered.
anwhile, as Alex stepped out of the cave, a cold reality struck him like a chill wind.
This was the first ti he truly felt the weight of taking a life.
Every other creature or person he had killed before now had either been for his survival or personal advancent. He could rationalise those monts easily, and so there had been no lingering guilt. No burden to carry.
But this ti... this ti was different.
A bitter taste lingered at the back of his throat.
He wasn’t being naive. He understood how the world worked. But this was the first ti he’d been directly confronted with the consequences—the collateral damage—of powers clashing from the shadows.
In his past life, Alex had worked as a lead engineer for a defence contractor. He had known, intellectually, that his country’s use of his company’s technology would inevitably cause suffering; displaced civilians, torn families and lives lost.
But those people had always been nothing more than statistics on a report; Numbers detached from his reality and easy to ignore.
Now, it wasn’t numbers—it was faces.
And if his growing suspicion proved right, then soone was using the goblins as tools to strike against House Fury.
Those won hadn’t died by re chance. They were casualties in a covert war—collateral damage between powers locked in a silent conflict.
That truth sat heavily on his chest.
The idea that unrelated, innocent people were forced to pay the ultimate price in a war they didn’t even know existed—because of his family—was sothing he couldn’t accept. Wouldn’t accept.
And the Furor bloodline’s heightened emotions weren’t helping.
His fury simred just beneath the surface, barely held in check by the stabilising effect of Calm Madness.
’I won’t allow war to reach the doorsteps of my people,’ he decided coldly. ’If I must wage war, then I will take it far away from them. That’s the least I owe them as their liege.’
In that mont, he solidified the kind of noble he wanted to beco.
It felt instinctive, yet everything he’d seen since arriving in this world told him it was an alien mindset among the aristocracy.
Most nobles believed their peasants should feel honoured to suffer in their na. If a village burned for their ambition, the people were expected to smile through the smoke and offer thanks for being part of their lord’s ’glory.’
It was a pompous, elitist worldview that sickened him.
It clashed with everything he believed in—everything he had grown up with in his past life. Everything he was willing to stand for in this one.
He would walk a different path from the nobles of this world. But there was one universal truth he could not escape:
To live by his ideals, he had to beco strong.
Why could nobles impose their will on peasants without consequence? Because they were strong.
Why were those two won taken—violated—by monsters like goblins? Because they were weak.
This was a cruel world where weakness was sin.
Being born weak was understandable. Remaining weak was unforgivable.
And sotis, the price for weakness was far worse than death.
Just like those two won had shown.
The need for strength was even more paramount for a noble like Alex. If he wanted to live on his own terms, unaffected by the world’s unreasonable and brutal expectations, then he needed the power to silence all opposition.
All roads continued to lead back to his strength.
He couldn’t bring about real change... he couldn’t protect anyone, so long as he remained weak.
Such things were privileges reserved only for the strong.
Alex shook his head.
He had actually felt a tinge of pity for the goblins. After all, the only reason his forces had slaughtered them was because of their race.
But now, he understood. He was no longer in his previous life—where race had no true bearing on one’s behaviour.
Here, bloodline and race defined many things.
They shaped nature, instinct, and even the ceiling of one’s growth. It would be foolish to keep viewing things through the sa lens he used in his old world.
Had he known then what he understood now, he wouldn’t have granted the Goblin Village Chief such an easy death.
He no longer just knew that goblins posed a threat to humanity if allowed to gain power—he comprehended it, fully and viscerally.
This wasn’t just a war of dominance. It was a war of survival.
If goblins thrived, humanity would suffer.
And Alex... wasn’t liberal enough to sacrifice human safety for goblin survival.
If preserving peace for his people required the death of every goblin within his reach, then so be it.
Starting with Dankrot Forest, he would no longer permit a single goblin to bring harm to any human under his protection. Not within his lands. Not under his watch.
Lieutenant Cross’s worries hadn’t materialised.
The potentially traumatising experience hadn’t left Alex ntally scarred. If anything, it had galvanised him—sharpened his purpose and deepened his resolve.
Unknowingly, the decision Alex made in that mont—on top of wiping out a major goblin settlent that threatened his family’s territory—greatly increased his providence.
Within the Sanctuary space, the golden energy within the Bonsai Tree responded.
It surged, growing richer, brighter—then silently bled outward into the boundaries of the Sealed Space.
The very air within the Sanctuary rumbled faintly.
Monts later, the entire space shifted. The floor area expanded by five tres in both directions. The ceiling rose by another full tre.
The change effectively doubled the Sanctuary’s usable floor area—and more than doubled its total volu.
But Daddy Golden Energy wasn’t done.
After expanding the Sanctuary, the golden energy withdrew from the space’s boundaries and flowed into the pulsating cocoon of the Nest Queen, which was still being fed digested energy gel by its ever-loyal drones.
The golden strand passed through the cocoon, sinking deep into its core. It didn’t simply reinforce the Queen’s evolution—it refined it. The possibilities ahead narrowed, collapsing into a focused, streamlined path aligned with Alex’s needs and intent.
Once its work was done, the strand retreated, returning to the Bonsai Tree where it quietly continued nurturing the tree’s growth.
It would wait.
Wait for the next opportunity to deliver Alex another gift. Another tool. Another power to help him rise.
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