Descendant of Sloth
Chapter 93: The Death Behind Them

Chapter 93: The Death Behind Them

The night air outside the auditorium was cool and still, a sharp opposite to the chaos inside. A truck sat parked in the loading bay, its back loaded with crates of cash, gold, and checks from the auction.

The driver slumped in the front seat, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey wedged between his legs, his head lolling slightly.

Beside him, a guard in scuffed armor leaned against the truck, arms crossed, his flashlight dangling from his belt. The distant hum of the city buzzed faintly, but it was the weird noises from the hall that had them talking.

"Tch... when are they coming? We’re getting late!" the driver grumbled, his words slurring as he took another swig from the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his drowzy eyes squinting toward the heavy door leading back inside.

The guard frowned, tilting his head as he caught a faint sound—muffled screams, sharp and panicked, leaking out from the auditorium.

"Oye... I don’t know, man, but I think I’m hearing weird screams from in there," he said, his voice uneasy. He stepped closer to the door, straining to listen, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The driver snorted, waving a shaky hand. "You’re drunk as fuck, bro. Just go inside and call Ham out already." He burped loud, the smell of booze wafting into the air as he leaned back in his seat, oblivious to the guard’s growing nerves.

The guard sighed, rolling his eyes. "But it’s you who’s drunk, though..." he muttered, rubbing his temple like he was already tired of this night.

Before he could say more, the door burst open with a loud *thud*, and the knight who’d bolted from the stage came stumbling out.

His armor clanked as he ran, his face slick with sweat, his chest heaving like he’d sprinted for his life. "Leave!!!" he screamed, his voice raw and wild. "There’s a monster inside!!"

The guard spun around, his hand tightening on his sword. "What are you saying?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the knight’s panic. The guy looked like he’d seen a ghost—pale, shaking, his flashlight swinging loose from his belt.

The knight grabbed the guard’s shoulders, his fingers digging in hard. "Just leave this fucking place right now!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "He killed everyone—everyone!" His eyes were wide, darting back toward the door like he expected something to come crashing through it any second.

"Huhh!!??" The guard’s jaw dropped, his flashlight slipping from his hand and clattering to the ground. He stared at the knight, then glanced at the driver, who was still slouched in the cab, oblivious.

"Where’s Ham? Bring him here already, you idiot kids—*burp*," the driver slurred, slamming his bottle down on the dashboard. He squinted at them, his head wobbling as he tried to focus. "What’s all this yelling about?"

The knight whirled on him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him hard.

"BOSS HAM IS DEAD!!!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the concrete walls of the loading bay. The driver blinked, his drunken haze cracking as the words sank in, his face going slack.

"Let’s leave this place already!" the guard snapped, snapping out of his shock. He shoved the knight toward the truck, his own hands trembling now.

"Move—now!" He darted around to the passenger side, pulling the door open with a creak.

The driver stared at them, sweat beading on his forehead despite the booze.

"Oh... okay... let’s leave this place," he mumbled, suddenly sober enough to realize something was seriously wrong. He fumbled with his keys, his shaky hands dropping them once before he managed to jam them into the ignition. The guard and the knight piled into the cab beside him, squeezing in tight, their armor clanking against the seats.

"Hurry up!" the guard barked, slamming his door shut and gripping the dashboard. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see something chasing them.

"What are you doing, man? Go!" the knight added, his voice high and frantic. He kept twisting around, staring at the door they’d come from, his flashlight clutched tight like it could protect him. "He’s gonna come out—any second now!"

"Just a second..." the driver muttered, his fingers slipping on the keys as he turned them. *Grrrr*—the truck engine sputtered, then roared to life, the sound loud and rough in the quiet night.

He fumbled with the gearshift, his foot heavy on the gas, and the truck moved forward.

A flashlight beam from the loading bay’s control box flashed across them, and the garage shutter groaned as it started to roll up, metal grinding against metal. The knight kept glancing back, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Fast... fast!" he whispered to himself, his voice shaking as he watched the door, waiting for me to step through. The truck rumbled toward the open shutter, tires squealing faintly on the concrete, all three of them sweating and silent now, the weight of what they’d escaped sinking in.

The truck rumbled down the empty road, its engine growling as it cut through the quiet night.

The city had faded behind them, leaving just the glow of streetlights flickering over the road, the moon hanging full and bright above, stars twinkling like jewels. The driver gripped the wheel tight, his knuckles pale, the whiskey buzz long gone, replaced by a cold sweat trickling down his temple.

The guard and the knight sat crammed beside him in the seat.

"What is even happening? I’ve got no clue," the driver muttered, wiping his forehead with a shaky hand. He glanced at the crates of cash and gold stacked in the back, glinting faintly through the rear window. "But who cares, right? We’ve got the money—tons of it. That’s what matters." His voice was rough, forced, like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

"Sighhhh..." The knight let out a long, shaky breath, slumping back against the seat, his face still slick with sweat from the run. "Thank God we’re safe now. I thought we were done back there—thought that monster was gonna—" He stopped mid-sentence, his words choking off as the truck’s headlights flashed ahead.

There I was—standing dead center in the road, my dark figure sharp against the bright beams.

"Ohh shit!" the driver yelled, his voice spiking with panic. He pulled the wheel hard to the right, the tires squealing as he swerved to avoid hitting me. "What’s he doing there?!" he shouted, his foot slipping off the gas, the truck moved wildly.

I turned my head, my gaze calm and steady, tracking them as they ran it toward the footpath railing.

Bending low, I summoned a dagger into my hand—its blade shimmering into existence with a faint hum. With a flick of my wrist, I threw it, the steel spinning fast through the air.

*Boom*—it slammed into their front tire, the rubber exploding with a loud bang, bits of it flying everywhere. The truck jolted, one tire smacking the railing with a screech of metal, the other blowing out completely.

It bounced once, then flipped, soaring a few feet into the air before crashing down hard—*crash*—upside down on the road behind me, a twisted heap of steel and smoke.

I turned slowly and faced the wreck. Cash and gold coins spilled out from the back, scattering across the road like confetti, glinting under the streetlights.

A couple of late-night passersby stopped on the sidewalk, their shadows stretching long as they stared. "Look—an accident just happened over there," one said, his voice curious, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "Yeah, you’re right," the other replied, stepping closer. "Let’s check it out—see if anyone’s hurt."

Inside the flipped truck, the three men lay crumpled, their bodies tangled in the wreckage. The driver groaned, blood seeping from his head, dripping onto the cracked windshield.

"Ugh... what... hit us..." he coughed, his voice weak, red staining his lips as he tried to move. The guard beside him wheezed, his arm bent wrong under him, blood pooling beneath his cracked armor. "We... we were safe..." he rasped, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay conscious.

The knight clutched his chest, a jagged piece of metal sticking out, his breaths short and wet. "That... bastard..." he choked out, blood bubbling from his mouth.

The distant wail of sirens cut through the night—police, maybe more knights, closing in fast. I stood there a moment longer, my eyes cold and empty as the truck smoked behind me.

I didn’t wait. With a slow step back, my figure blurred, then vanished—melting into the dark like I’d never been there. The sirens grew louder, tires screeching as cars pulled up, but they’d find nothing but the wreckage, the blood, and the dead. The traffickers—Ham, the knights, the ones who’d run—were gone, wiped out in the night and I was already somewhere else, the moon and stars the only witnesses left.