Chapter 636: Picking The Right Men
(One week later, Planet Granoda, Commander Entrail’s POV)
*Rain*
*Thunder*
*Tidal waves crashing into rock*
The storm never ceased on Granoda, as black clouds pressed low against the endless ocean, while waves slammed furiously into the lone shard of rock that emerged out like an anomaly that defied natural law.
Rain poured in sheets, heavy and unrelenting, as lightning forked across the heavens and illuminated the scene in violent flashes of white and violet.
It was here, atop that solitary outcrop where no mortal could endure the weather for long, that Entrail and Streak stood, summoned by the Great God Mauriss himself.
Entrail did not expect to be called on such short notice to stand before a being whispered of in dread across the universe, and yet here he was—soaked to the bone, heart thrumming steady, eyes fixed on the figure above.
Mauriss stood bare-chested at the cliff’s edge, the rain cascading down his pale frame as though it dared not linger on him for long, while his long black hair floated freely above his head, defying both gravity and the storm, as if it answered to some private, silent rhythm only he could command.
Every lightning strike seemed to crown him in fire, and though no proper throne sat beneath him, his very presence pressed upon the air like an empire manifest.
Entrail, ever the gentleman, adjusted the cuff of his sleeve with precise elegance, as though good manners could steady him against the weight of madness, while beside him Streak remained calm and loose, his posture unbothered, his silence thick enough to carve its own space within the storm.
Mauriss’s gaze turned upon them, sharp and glimmering with that manic gleam that marked them as disposable tools rather than genuine subordinates, however, he tried his best to not let it show.
"I have summoned you both today," He began, as he alternated his gaze between the two, "because I wish to entrust you with the most important mission of your lives.
The two of you have proven yourselves to be more than capable warriors over the years, and so I will reward you with a challenge so intoxicating that, should you succeed, your names will be sung across the universe as immortal heroes."
*KABOOM*
*Faster Rain*
The storm seemed to howl louder as he leaned forward, his chest glistening with water, his hair writhing like dark serpents in the wind.
"I have handpicked you to lead the assault on Planet Juxta with one billion soldiers and twenty thousand of our finest warships at your disposal. And if you succeed in capturing it..."
Mauriss stretched his hand outward, five fingers slowly unfurling, as he drew the attention of the two men to his palms.
"...I will grant you any five ingredients required to brew the Demi-God potion. You name them, and I shall see them delivered into your hands.
I know the two of you have already begun the search for those precious ingredients, and that decades of effort may scarcely secure even one, yet with this victory you will advance by leaps and bounds, securing glory and power in one single stroke. So then, what do you say?"
He asked, as Entrail bowed deeply, one hand pressed across his chest, his refined voice carrying above the storm with a composure that never wavered.
"My lord, it is both an honor and a privilege to receive such a task, and I give you my word that Planet Juxta will fall swiftly beneath our blades, its heathen soil echoing your divine will.
I shall personally see statues carved in your glorious likeness raised upon its conquered lands, so that every soul who dares resist the Universal Government may tremble before your name.
As long as there’s strength within my limbs, I will not rest, until I secure absolute victory in your honor."
Entrail promised, as Mauriss nodded in approval before turning towards Streak, who gave a short and curt response.
"It will be done."
Streak said, as Mauriss’s laughter ripped from his chest, wild and rolling, louder than thunder as the waves themselves seemed to surge higher just to carry his madness across the horizon.
"Good... good! Then go forth, my hounds of war, drench Juxta in fire, carve my name into their bones, and return to me carrying triumph upon your shoulders!"
He instructed, as Entrail felt the thrill strike through him like lightning, not born of fear but of savage exhilaration, as to be chosen by Mauriss was not merely an honor but the promise that history itself would bend to record their names forever if they performed as expected.
Of course he wasn’t a fool, and he understood perfectly well that Mauriss’s nickname was the ’Eternal Deceiver’ and that his promises were never what they seemed.
Still, it couldn’t be denied that Mauriss was one of the three Founding Gods of the Universal Government, and to be a hound for him was a matter of tremendous pride and glory.
As despite the risks, in the end, Entrail was grateful for the chance.
—----------
A few minutes later, once they had left Granoda behind and were aboard the sleek warship cutting its way through the void of space, it was Entrail who finally broke the silence, his eyes still lingering on the storm-wracked planet fading into the distance.
"How long before you think we’ll be ready for deployment?" he asked, his tone calm and measured, as he seemed to be making complex calculations in his head.
Streak sat back in his seat, gaze steady on the stars ahead, before giving a slight shrug. "Fourteen days, maybe," he replied, his voice low and certain, carrying no trace of doubt.
Entrail’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, his fingers drumming lightly against the polished armrest.
For years he had waited for this chance, an opportunity to finally launch a raid against the disgusting Evil Cult, and now the door to do so had opened at last.
"We are going to succeed in this mission and it’s going to be LEGENDARY...."
He muttered, as just the thought of it thrilled him, as in his head, he did not just plan for victory, but rather complete annihilation of all evil doers residing on the planet.