Looking at the land stained bright red, at the bloody mess of scarlet minced flesh and shattered bone mingled together, Morax felt a suffocating anguish.
He had once been a spirited, cheerful youth who settled anything he could not figure out with a fight.
Now, the world had forced him to slaughter these innocent humans.
Once he stopped showing mercy to Demon Gods and stained his hands with blood, a shadow had fallen over his innocent eyes.
After this massacre, the coldness in his eyes had reached another level.
In the past, he had fought to spar and test his martial skills.
Now, every fight was about killing his opponent.
Although his combat prowess was now countless times greater than before, he could not feel happy at all.
He still preferred the days when he knew only a few crude moves, but at least he had not been forced to do these things.
"Big brother... I don't want to do this anymore," Morax said in anguish.
He was kindhearted by nature. Killing fellow Demon Gods he did not even know had already demanded all the coldness he could muster. Now he had to kill their people as well, and that caused him unbearable pain.
It was like conquering a city, beheading its leader, and killing its guards. That should have been enough.
Yet the heavens still forced you to wipe out the entire city!
You had to kill all the innocent, impoverished people living there as well.
Such an inhuman act left Morax in agony, as though his bones were being carved out of his flesh.
Those solitary Demon Gods from before had been like empty cities at most: all he needed to do was conquer them. But Demon Gods with people under their protection were like moving towns.
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