Hitman With A Badass System

Chapter 1397 : Massacre of Agra worshippers

Immediately, Gaya rose to her feet as her eyes blazed with a cold fire.

"We're going hunting, human," she growled with a menacing rumble. "We're going to find… every single one of those assholes. And we're going to… slaughter them."

Michael nodded, a grim smile twisting his lips. Fayeth, hearing the word slaughter and the way Gaya had said it… felt another shiver run down her spine. Even the God of Darkness hadn't sounded that bloodthirsty. Gaya's "normal" killing sprees usually resembled a massacre. If she was talking about slaughter, it was going to be like unleashing a horde of starving piranhas on a group of tourists who decided to skinny dip in the Amazon.

But he was also eager to see the boost to her spells, the enhanced power of her Nagini transformation, the one that turned her into a twelve-foot cobra, with scales as black as midnight and eyes that glowed with a malevolent purple light. He hadn't seen her true form in months, but he had a feeling… tonight was the night.

The beasts surrounding them, sensing Gaya's… intent… shifted, forming a protective circle around her, their eyes fixed on Michael and Fayeth with a mixture of suspicion and… possessiveness. They even had the audacity to nudge Michael and Fayeth aside, as if staking their claim on their goddess.

"Hey, I'm her husband, you know! Show some goddamn respect!" Michael said, frowning.

One of the lions, a massive beast with a mane like spun gold, looked at him and then let out something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

"Did that overgrown housecat just laugh at me?" Michael asked, turning to Fayeth, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"I think so," Fayeth said, suppressing a giggle, before turning her attention back to Gaya, who seemed oblivious to the… interspecies drama unfolding behind her. She was focused. Her cold and calculating gaze was fixed on the distant temple where the rest of the agra worshippers were.

The crimson dragon, its two horns gleaming in the moonlight, lowered its massive head, and Gaya, with fluid grace, climbed onto its back, settling into the space between its wings.

"Take her with us," she said to the griffin, gesturing towards Fayeth with a nod of her head. The griffin, its gaze fixed on Gaya with an almost worshiful intensity, approached Fayeth, lowering its head so she could climb onto its back.

Fayeth hesitated for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise. She had never ridden a griffin before. They were proud, independent creatures, not exactly known for their… domesticity. But Gaya was their goddess now and they would obey.

Then, she mounted the griffin, her hands gripping its feathers, and together, they rose into the air, joining Michael, who was already hovering above the trees.

The dragons, griffins, and other winged beasts took to the sky, their roars and screeches echoing through the night. The other beasts, the ones who couldn't fly, followed below, their paws pounding the earth as they followed behind.

The Goddess of Monsters, her army at her back, was on the warpath.

As Gaya and her army made their way towards the Temple of Chaos, the Agra worshippers who'd remained behind were confused and a little bit freaked out.

"What the fuck is going on with this place?" one of them muttered, staring at the vines that were now creeping up the walls of the temple, their leaves a vibrant, unnatural green against the black stone.

"Is this shit… growing?" another cultist asked, poking at a flower that had bloomed in a crack in the pavement. "I thought chaos was supposed to destroy things. Not… grow them."

"And those screams… they're… gone," a third cultist said in confusion. "Did… did Agra… leave?"

"Where the hell is Vorlag and the others?" another grumbled, kicking at a loose rock. "They've been gone for… hours. What the fuck are they doing out there?"

Meanwhile, deep within the temple, in the dungeons where Agra's slaves were kept chained, the emaciated worshippers of Ava, their bodies healed by the returning power of the Verdant Sanctuary, felt a surge of hope and faith.

They began to chant, their voices weak at first, then growing stronger, more fervent, as they called out to their goddess.

"Ava! Hear our prayers!"

"Goddess of Healing, save us!"

"We have returned to you!"

"Please, Goddess… forgive us… for our betrayal… for our… weakness. "

Many wept, their tears a mixture of grief, joy, and… terror. They didn't know what was happening, but they knew something was changing. Soon, their voices, filled with desperate longing, echoed through the dungeons, reaching the ears of Agra's worshippers above.

"What the fuck is that noise?" one of the cultists growled, his face twisting in disgust.

"Those… fucking Ava worshippers!" another spat. "Still… praying to their… whore of a goddess! They haven't learned their lesson, have they?"

They stormed down into the dungeons as their torches cast long, menacing shadows and their faces twisted into masks of fury.

"Shut the fuck up, you pathetic worms!" one of them roared, lashing out with his whip, the leather tip connecting with a slave's back, drawing a scream of pain.

"Agra demands silence!" another cultist yelled, kicking a kneeling worshipper in the ribs. "There is only one god in this domain now! And his name is Agra!"

The whips fell, again and again, leaving bloody welts on the slaves' backs.But the wounds… the wounds were… healing. As quickly as they appeared, they vanished, the flesh knitting back together, the blood… disappearing.

"What the…?" one of the cultists muttered, his eyes wide with confusion. He lashed out again, his whip cracking even harder, but the result was the same. The wounds… they simply… vanished.

And then… they heard it.

A roar.

A deep, resonant sound echoed through the temple, shaking the very foundations of the structure. It wasn't just one roar. It was a chorus of roars and soon, they also felt the ground trembling beneath their feet.

"What the hell was that?" one of them muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger.

"Sounded like… an earthquake," another said, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and… excitement.

"Maybe… Agra's back?"

They rushed towards the temple entrance, eager to see what… chaos their god had wrought. But as they rounded the corner of the temple, their eagerness turned to… horror.

"Holy shit!" one of them shrieked, staring at the carnage before him. "What the… fuck… happened here?"

Bodies.

Everywhere.

Their comrades, the ones who'd been guarding the perimeter, lay scattered across the ground, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their faces frozen in masks of terror. Some were… incomplete, missing limbs, their torsos ripped open, their entrails spilling onto the ground.

"Those fucking animals!" another roared, his eyes blazing with fury. "They were heading for… the forest! Where Agra… and Vorlag… they're…"

"Where the fuck are Agra and Lady Qin Jiu?!" another cultist screamed, his voice laced with panic.

"Someone should… go get Lady Qin Jiu," one of the cultists suggested.

"Like hell I am!" another retorted, shaking his head vehemently. "I'm not going anywhere near Agra's… wife's chambers and end up getting turned into a fucking… pincushion!"

"The slaves… down in the dungeons…" one of the guards who'd been posted inside the temple, said. "They're… they're healed. Their wounds… they're… disappearing."

"What…?"

But before anyone could… process… the implications of that little tidbit, one of the cultists, his eyes wide with terror, pointed towards the sky.

"Look!"

They all looked up, their gazes fixed on the… shadows… that were gathering above the clouds, their forms… immense… menacing.

And then… all hell broke loose.

The dragons and griffins, their roars and screeches echoing through the night, dived down from the clouds, their wings beating the air, their shadows falling upon the terrified cultists like a dark omen.

"Incoming!" one of the cultists screamed, scrambling for cover.

"Defensive spells! Now!" another roared, his hands glowing with a sickly green light.

"Inferno Blast!" one of them roared, unleashing a torrent of flames towards a descending dragon.

"Stone Spikes!" another shouted, summoning jagged pillars of rock from the earth, aiming them at a diving griffin.

"Shadow Bolt!" a third shrieked, a bolt of dark energy, crackling with power, shooting towards Gaya's crimson dragon.

But the dragons and griffins were too fast. They weaved through the incoming spells, their movements graceful, their scales and feathers shimmering with a protective energy that deflected the weaker attacks. A few of the dragons, their scales thicker, their magic more potent, simply… ignored the spells, the fireballs and lightning bolts bouncing harmlessly off their hides.

Gaya's dragon, its crimson scales gleaming in the flickering torchlight, swooped down, its shadow falling over the terrified cultists.

"Light them up. But… go easy on the heat. I want them to… scream. For a while."

A stream of fire, not the raging inferno of a full-blown dragon's breath, but a controlled, focused jet of blue flames, erupted from the dragon's mouth, washing over the cultists, their screams echoing through the night as their flesh began to sizzle.

Above them, more dragons descended, their wings beating the air, their shadows falling over the temple grounds like a dark omen. Streams of fire, each one a different color – blue, green, orange, even a sickly purple – rained down on the cultists, their screams blending into a chorus of agony and terror. The air filled with the stench of burning flesh and the acrid smell of ozone, the ground littered with charred bodies and the… remains… of those who'd been… less fortunate.

"Run!" one of the cultists screamed, his voice a choked gurgle as the flames licked at his heels. "It's a trap! We're… we're fucked!"

"Every man for himself!" another yelled, dropping his torch and his spear and bolting towards the forest, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Retreat! Back to the temple!"

But as they ran, they found their escape route… blocked.

The beasts that had followed Gaya, the ones who couldn't fly, had arrived.

Lions, their eyes blazing with fury, pounced on the fleeing cultists, their claws tearing through flesh and bone while the bears rose up on their hind legs, their massive paws swatting the cultists aside like flies. Even the deer, their gentle eyes now filled with a cold, hard rage, charged as their antlers pierced the cultists' flesh.

"Fucking hell," a cultist whimpered, his voice barely audible over the snarls and growls of the beasts, his leg trapped beneath a bear's massive paw. "Get this… thing… off me!"

"Help me! Someone!"

"Agra! Where the fuck are you?!"

The cultists tried to fight back, their daggers flashing, their spells crackling, but they were outmatched, overwhelmed. The beasts, fueled by Gaya's power, by their own pent-up rage, were relentless.

At that moment, a cultist, his face contorted in a mask of terror, raised his sword, aiming a blow at a young fawn that had just gored him in the leg. But before he could connect, a massive bear intervened. It rose up and with a single swipe, tore the man's head from his shoulders.

Watching the carnage from the back of the griffin, Fayeth felt a wave of nausea wash over her. This… this wasn't just a battle. It was a… cleansing. A massacre. A bloodbath that would send shockwaves through the entire realm of the Gods.