MTLNOVEL CHAPTER 241: TWISTED LIES
Rebecca enshrouded herself in darkness, weaving shadows so dense and intricate that even the gods themselves would not have been able to perceive her presence. Not a trace of her soul could be felt in the entire universe. She had become a phantom, a memory erased from reality.
After years in hiding, she had returned—and now, she wandered not as a lost soul, but as an executioner in waiting.
Her first decision was to tour the world, to see how much it had changed during her absence, to measure the scars left behind by history—and to check on her old friend, Drakonix. But there was one stop she had to make before that… one that pulled at her heart with a mixture of dread and hollow hope.
The ruins of her old clan.
Or so she thought.
She walked without urgency, her steps silent, her presence intangible. The road to her clan was etched deep into her memory—each bend and stone remembered like echoes of a life long buried. Eventually, she arrived at the place that once lay in ashes… but what she found stole the breath from her hollowed lungs.
It wasn't ruin that greeted her.
No, it was a thriving, vibrant stronghold. Tall buildings stood in place of rubble, clean streets replaced blood-soaked paths, and elegant stone walls surrounded the territory like they had in her father's reign—only now, they were even grander, more refined, more alive.
Rebecca paused just outside the gates, her heart caught between joy and dread. Could it be? Had her people survived?
For a flickering moment, warmth pierced through her heart—a glimmer of hope that perhaps not all had been lost.
She moved forward, passing through the gates like a shadow in the wind. The guards stationed at the entrance stood with disciplined posture, oblivious to her presence. Her invisibility cloaked her perfectly, allowing her to walk undetected among those who now called this place home.
She wandered through the clan territory, her steps slow, eyes drinking in every detail. Children played in the square, merchants shouted their wares, and warriors trained in the yards. It was alive. Prosperous.
It felt… wrong.
Eventually, her eyes fell upon a structure that stood apart from the rest—tall, solemn, with spires that reached for the heavens. Intrigued, and with a growing sense of unease, she drifted toward it.
The moment she stepped through the grand arched doorway, her heart shattered.
Inside, cloaked in robes of silver and white, humans knelt in prayer before an altar adorned with celestial symbols. A massive statue of the so-called Celestial King loomed at the front, his expression carved with serene divinity.
Rebecca's breath caught.
Then the sermon began.
"The evil king raised an army against the major clans, eliciting their wrath and bringing destruction upon our people," the priest declared with righteous fervor. "He led us into ruin with his pride and greed, his hands stained with the blood of our children. But the Celestial King, our protector and divine patron, delivered us from extinction. He sheltered us from the wrath of the major clans and gave humanity a second chance."
Rebecca stood frozen, her face pale, her fingers trembling at her side.
"The evil king even allied with the demons, making dark pacts in secret, sacrificing our kin and masking it as mere kidnappings. His selfishness would have destroyed us all… but the Celestial King forgave. He saved us."
The words twisted through Rebecca's mind like poisoned daggers.
Her father—branded a traitor, a villain, a monster.
The same man who had died protecting his people, shielding them from betrayal. The same man who had bled and wept for their survival. And now… they worshipped the very god who stood behind their slaughter?
She felt her hands twitch, her aura threaten to explode, her darkness yearning to swallow everyone in the building whole.
But she held back.
Not yet. She needed to understand. To see it all. Then… she would act.
She spent the entire day moving silently through the clan grounds. Every word she heard only deepened her grief. The lies had been swallowed, twisted into truth. Statues of the Celestial King stood tall in every district. Pictures of her father—defaced, spat upon, cursed. Children were taught that he was a devil in mortal form. Extremists shouted hate at images of him in the public square.
By the time the sun fell below the horizon, Rebecca's heart was dust.
She stood atop a rooftop, looking over the city bathed in the gentle glow of lanterns. And for the first time in her life, she did not feel sorrow.
She felt nothing but rage.
"The world doesn't need saving," she whispered to the night sky, her voice devoid of emotion. "It needs to burn."
✧ ✧ ✧
Far away, deep in the rugged hills, the goblin chieftain slumped in his throne, rubbing his temples.
The long day had worn him thin—too many complaints, too many squabbles among his people. His emerald skin glistened with sweat, and his bulging eyes drooped with fatigue.
"I need some rest," he muttered, closing his eyes slightly. But before sleep could take him, a soft, honeyed voice whispered in his ear.
"I can help you with that… I'll relieve you of all your duties—forever."
The goblin chief shot up, startled, his instincts flaring. He looked around the room—empty. He hadn't felt anything. No magical presence, no disturbance.
Then he saw her.
A girl cloaked in shadows, standing inches from his throne, her eyes glowing with ancient fury.
"You? Who are you? How did you get in here?" he barked, already preparing spells in his mind. But inside, he was shaken. Even with all his wards and guards, she had appeared without a trace.
Rebecca's expression didn't change. Cold, composed, merciless.
"That doesn't matter. All that matters is this—I'm here for revenge."
"Revenge?" the goblin chief growled. "I don't even know you! What revenge?!"
She tilted her head. "King Alfred. You served under him, didn't you? Or have you already forgotten the cowardice you showed during the war? You and your people withdrew from the frontlines, leaving us to die."
The goblin chief narrowed his eyes. The name stirred something in him. A memory. A girl… tugging at her father's sleeve… playful, full of life.
His face paled.
"Rebecca?! You… you're alive?! After all these years?!"
Rebecca raised a hand. Darkness coiled around her fingers like a living serpent.
"Your concern is too late."
"Wait—" he tried to summon his staff, but the needle of darkness had already pierced his skull.
The goblin chief collapsed instantly.
Rebecca stared at his corpse, unimpressed.
"Too easy," she murmured.
Her shadows slithered into his body through every orifice, wrapping around his bones and soul, fusing with his essence. Seconds later, the goblin chief's body jolted upright. His eyes snapped open, now black voids of shadow.
He knelt before her.
"My lord," he said, voice cold, hollow.
"Good," Rebecca smiled faintly. "That suits you better."
More darkness poured into him, forming a sleek black robe, adorned with jagged patterns that shimmered like a starless sky. A mask appeared over his face—etched with the number 2.
His power surged, now rivalling that of the Dragon King during the annihilation wars.
"Come," Rebecca said, wrapping them in swirling black tendrils.
They vanished from the world.
Their next destination: the orc stronghold.
There, the orc chief was preoccupied—engaged in a wild, carnal battle with a female orc, the room filled with groans and laughter.
That joy ended abruptly.
"Forgive my sudden interruption," came Rebecca's voice, slicing through the moment like a blade. "But I don't have time for distractions."
The orc chief leapt up, roaring in fury. But like the goblin before him, he barely had time to register her before death claimed him. The same dark ritual followed—needle, possession, awakening.
Another mask. Another servant.
This one bore the number 1, demoting the goblin to 2.
Rebecca stood before her new generals, the darkness humming around them like a living storm.
"Now then," she said, eyes burning like twin eclipses, "Let the cleansing begin."