Chapter 522 — Why Would I?

"Chief..."

The whisper came from one of the younger giants, his weapon trembling in his hands.

"What do we–"

Krazgor’s arms spread wide, his massive frame straightening despite the blood still pouring from his wounds.

His voice rang out clearly, carrying the weight of acceptance.

"Human warrior!"

His eyes found Damian’s armored form.

"Grant me a warrior’s death! Let me die with your axe through my heart!"

His words echoed across the Domain, proud and defiant despite everything.

"I fought with everything I had! I deserve to meet death standing, to feel the blade that ends me!"

Behind him, the commanders who’d retained some measure of coherent thought began laughing.

The sound came out broken and mad, but carrying the same acceptance.

"KILL US WITH YOUR AXE, HUMAN!"

The oldest commander’s voice joined Krazgor’s.

"WE ARE WARRIORS OF THE GIANT RACE!"

"LET US DIE FIGHTING!"

"GIVE US THE RESPECT WE’VE EARNED!"

All of them knelt with arms spread, facing their executioner with heads held high.

The watching giant army stood in absolute silence, witnessing their leaders’ final request.

Damian’s damaged helmet turned, tracking across the kneeling figures.

His weak voice emerged from behind the warped metal, quiet but carrying clearly across the Domain.

"Giants are a warring species."

He took a step forward, his boots making no sound against the void-ground.

"You love to fight, respect the strong, and view combat as the highest form of expression."

His hand reached down, fingers wrapping around his axe where it lay beside him.

The weapon lifted, mud and blood dripping from the blade.

"To your people, dying in battle against a worthy opponent is the greatest respect you can receive."

Another step, bringing him closer to the nearest kneeling commanders.

His axe rose to rest against his shoulder, the familiar weight settling.

"For you to die by my hands, cut down by my blade in direct combat..."

He stopped walking, standing before them.

"Would be considered an honorable death."

The commanders closed their eyes, their faces showing acceptance and peace.

The giant army watched, thousands of eyes locked on the scene.

Damian’s grip shifted on the axe handle.

Then his whisper cut across the silence.

"So–"

The commanders tensed, waiting for the strike.

"–why would I do that?"

Eyes snapped open, confusion replacing acceptance.

’What–’

BOOM

Black fog erupted from Damian’s position, dense and roiling, spreading across the void-ground like a living thing.

It rushed toward the kneeling commanders and Krazgor, wrapping around their massive forms.

The despair that had been crushing them passively became active, drilling into their minds completely.

And Damian’s voice cut through it all, two words carrying absolute authority.

"Kill yourself."

The change was instant.

The oldest commander’s eyes went wide, his hands rising to his own throat.

"I deserve to die... I failed my people... I led them to slaughter..."

His fingers began squeezing, crushing his own windpipe.

"I’m worthless... less than worthless... my existence shames the tribe..."

Another commander grabbed his own blade, the weapon trembling in his shaking hands.

"Everyone would be better off without me... I should have died years ago..."

The blade pressed against his stomach.

"This is right... this is justice... I deserve this pain..."

SLASH

He drove it in, the weapon punching through armor and flesh.

All across the Domain, giant commanders turned their weapons on themselves.

Some drove blades into their hearts.

Others crushed their own throats.

One slammed his head against the void-ground again and again, each impact cratering the surface further.

"I DESERVE TO DIE!"

"WORTHLESS!"

"SHOULD HAVE DIED LONG AGO!"

"FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME!"

Their voices overlapped, madness and despair bleeding together into something horrible.

****

Horror spread through the Giant army like wildfire.

"What..."

The word came out barely audible, shock stealing the speaker’s voice.

"They’re... they’re killing themselves..."

Another whisper, disbelieving.

"SUICIDE!"

The roar exploded from dozens of throats simultaneously.

"THE GREATEST DISHONOR!"

"HOW DARE HE MAKE THEM–"

"BROTHERS, WE HAVE TO STOP THIS!"

Five young giants broke ranks, their weapons raised, their eyes blazing with fury and desperation.

They charged the Domain boundary, crossing through the open section before anyone could stop them.

The instant they entered, the dense fog wrapped around them.

"I FAILED MY FAMILY!"

The first one screamed it immediately, his blade rising to his own throat.

"THEY DIED BECAUSE I WASN’T STRONG ENOUGH!"

SLASH

Blood sprayed as he opened his own jugular.

"NO NO NO NO!"

The second clawed at his eyes, his fingers digging into the sockets.

"I CAN’T UNSEE IT! MAKE IT STOP! DEATH IS THE ONLY WAY!"

The others followed within heartbeats, each one finding their own method of ending themselves.

The watching army recoiled, rage transforming into something closer to terror.

"He’s making them dishonor themselves..."

An older warrior’s voice came out hollow.

"To die by suicide... to take your own life..."

He couldn’t finish, the words dying in his throat.

Among the giant race, there was no greater shame than suicide.

It spat on everything their culture valued, everything their warring nature stood for.

Combat death brought honor, brought glory and brought respect even in defeat.

But taking your own life, choosing to end yourself instead of fighting until the bitter end, was the ultimate cowardice.

And this human was forcing their leaders, their commanders and their brothers to commit that unforgivable act.

They felt rage beyond rage, fury that transcended reason, grief mixing with hatred until they couldn’t tell one from the other.

"WE HAVE TO–"

"STAY BACK!"

The shout came from the army’s remaining commanders, the ones who’d been stationed outside.

"HE WANTS YOU TO ENTER! CAN’T YOU SEE THE TRAP?!"

"BUT OUR BROTHERS–"

"ARE ALREADY DEAD!"

The commander’s voice cracked.

"And if you go in there, you’ll join them! You’ll shame yourselves and your tribes the same way!"

The young giants stood frozen between duty and survival, watching their leaders die in the most dishonorable way possible.

****

Bodies littered the void-ground, dozens of commanders who’d taken their own lives in dozens of different ways.

The dense fog began receding, pulling back toward Damian’s position.

Only Krazgor remained alive, his massive hands raised toward his own face, fingers trembling as they reached for his skull.

’Crush it...’

The thought came wrapped in despair so deep it felt like drowning.

’Your head... just crush your own head... end the shame... end the failure...’

His fingers touched his temples, began applying pressure.

’You’re worthless... the weakest Chief... Khra’gath was right about everything...’

The pressure increased, his own strength capable of pulverizing his skull with one good squeeze.

’Do it... just do it and–’

"NO!"

The roar tore from his throat, primal and desperate.

"I AM THE YOUNG CHIEF OF THE IRONJAW TRIBE!"

His eyes blazed, something igniting deep in his chest.

"I AM THE LEADER OF MY PEOPLE!"

His willpower flared, burning bright against the despair crushing down on him.

"I WILL NOT SHAME MY TRIBE BY DYING LIKE A COWARD!"

The pressure in his hands reversed, pulling away from his head instead of crushing it.

His arms fell to his sides, trembling with effort, blood still streaming from his wounds.

But alive, conscious, and defiant despite everything.

The watching army erupted.

"THE CHIEF RESISTED!"

"HIS WILL BROKE THROUGH!"

"HE CAN FIGHT IT!"

Hope blazed through their ranks, seeing their leader overcome the impossible through sheer determination.

Krazgor’s massive frame began rising, his legs shaking as he tried to stand.

"You–"

"Leader, huh?"

Damian’s whisper cut through Krazgor’s words.

His damaged helmet turned, tracking across the corpse-littered battlefield.

"You know what’s the most humiliating thing for a leader?"

Black energy began seeping from his armor, mixing with the receding fog.

The devouring principle and Domain authority merged, flowing across every giant corpse simultaneously.

The bodies began dissolving, essence being consumed and absorbed.

And in the crimson sky above, new shapes began forming alongside the suspended wolf corpses.

Giant corpses, dozens of them, materializing from the consumed essence.

The commanders who’d just killed themselves, now hanging motionless in the air, waiting for animation.

Damian’s voice resonated across the Domain, each word landing like a hammer.

"It’s watching the very warriors he commanded, the brothers he led, the soldiers who trusted him..."

The giant corpses finished forming, hanging alongside the wolves in perfect rows.

"...become the instruments of his destruction."

"Wha–"

Krazgor’s word died before it could finish, his eyes tracking upward toward the suspended corpses of his commanders.

Then Damian’s arms spread wide, his damaged helmet tilted back to face the crimson sky.

His whisper carried across the entire Domain, across the watching army, across the world itself.

"Awaken."

Silence stretched impossibly long.

Then–

Eyes opened.

Dozens of them, hundreds of them, all at once.

Every wolf corpse, every giant corpse, crimson light blazing from empty sockets.

And they descended.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

The impact of dozens of massive bodies hitting the void-ground simultaneously created a shockwave that made the entire Domain tremble.

Giant corpses knelt in perfect formation, their glowing eyes all facing toward Damian.

Wolf corpses prowled between them, movements fluid despite being dead.

And all of them, every single dead creature, turned as one toward Krazgor’s kneeling form.

The young chief stared at the animated corpses of his commanders, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

"You..."

His voice came out broken.

"What kind of monster are you?"

Damian’s helmet turned, regarding him through damaged metal.

His response emerged quiet and absolute, carrying conviction that made the black sun pulse overhead.

"The kind that will be the end of your race."

The moment the words finished, every animated corpse moved as one.