Chapter 469: Cursed Weapon: Weeping Tom

The crowd had already descended into a frenzy as anticipation for Damian’s next words continued building. The energy rolling through the city square was so intense that even several ministers found themselves staring at the civilians with stunned expressions. Everyone had expected this gathering to become a disaster for Damian.

Instead, Damian had spent the last several minutes carefully redirecting that resentment away from himself and toward the people who had created the chaos in the first place.

The ministers understood the danger of what was happening. By publicly separating the misled soldiers and civilians from the leaders who had manipulated them, Damian had robbed his enemies of one of their greatest weapons.

The people who were supposed to hate him were now cheering for him. Families who had arrived fearing that their loved ones would be executed were crying with relief. Soldiers who had once wondered whether the new prince intended to punish them collectively were now beginning to see a path toward survival.

And somewhere within that enormous crowd, the people who had hoped to use today’s bloodshed against him were watching their plans collapse.

Damian raised one hand, and the square fell silent almost immediately. The speed with which thousands of voices disappeared was frightening. The people stared at him from every direction while his ministers sat rigidly behind him, waiting to see what the prince would do next.

"My predecessor built a foundation of unity between all races. He welcomed everyone with open arms, and now these rotten swines have decided to ruin that foundation with their greed. That I cannot forgive!"

A wave of anger moved through the crowd. Many of them had lived under Lin Qui’s rule, while others had grown up listening to stories about the man who had turned Velmora into a place where demons of different races could live together without constantly fearing persecution. His death had left a wound that never truly closed, and the years of political instability that followed had only made people appreciate what they had lost.

Damian’s body suddenly rose from the platform.

Several people gasped as he levitated into the air, his robes fluttering gently around him while his hand fan remained loosely held in one hand.

He did not move quickly. He simply drifted forward, crossing the distance between the royal platform and the execution ground while thousands of eyes followed him.

Confused glances spread through the crowd.

The guards stationed around the six chained demigods immediately tightened their grips on their weapons. They could sense that something had changed. Damian was no longer approaching as a spectator who intended to watch an execution. His attention was fixed directly on the prisoners.

Even the winged executioner wearing the fox mask seemed to realize that the original plan was no longer relevant. He immediately jumped down from the wooden platform and moved several steps away, dragging his unnaturally large crescent blade with him as he cleared the area for whatever the prince intended to do.

"Under my rule, Velmora will remain a home for all well meaning demons!" Damian declared.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

At the same time, Damian stretched his hand forward.

The six demigods suddenly screamed as their chained bodies were violently lifted from the execution platform. Before they could understand what was happening, the entire wooden structure beneath them exploded.

Hundreds of pieces of wood shot into the sky.

The crowd fell silent again.

The six prisoners were dragged through the air and smashed against the ground with enough force to make the stone beneath them crack. Several cried out in pain as their divine chains pulsed violently against their bodies, golden cracks spreading further across their skin.

Then the pieces of wood began falling.

Under Damian’s control, every plank, beam and broken fragment arranged itself with terrifying precision. The wood landed around the six prisoners and began forming a massive pyre. The structure rose around their bodies until they were completely surrounded by tightly packed wood.

Only then did the prisoners finally understand. The confidence they had maintained throughout the gathering disappeared.

One of them began struggling violently against his chains while another turned his head toward Damian with widening eyes. Their earlier arrogance had vanished. They had expected death but not this way!

Behind Damian, several ministers exchanged uneasy looks. Their gazes immediately shifted toward Hazel, Racheal, Ruby, Rah and Mary.

The women were watching calmly. But it wasn’t just them.

William was watching calmly and even the palace guards stationed around the area did not move.

That was when the ministers finally understood that Damian’s closest circle had known about this beforehand. The prince had planned something far more significant than an execution.

As the pyre was completed, Damian slowly lowered himself until his feet hovered just above the ground. His sleeve moved slightly, and an exquisite dagger shot forward.

The weapon was beautiful.

Its hilt and sheath were black, while the exposed blade carried a deep violet color with intricate purple patterns running across its surface. It spun through the air before burying itself directly into the center of the pyre.

The entire city square watched in silence and Damian turned toward the crowd.

"LET THIS BE KNOWN, PEOPLE OF VELMORA! I AM AS RUTHLESS AS I AM KIND. THERE WILL BE NO FORGIVENESS FOR MY ENEMIES!"

Snap!

The instant Damian snapped his fingers, the pyre exploded into white flames.

The screams began immediately and the civilians closest to the execution ground instinctively recoiled. Some covered their mouths while others stumbled backward into the people behind them.

Blisters appeared across their skin as their bodies twisted violently against the divine chains.

The sound of their screams spread through the city square and Damian remained motionless.

The same people who had just watched him promise mercy were now watching him create something that looked like the complete opposite. The contradiction left them terrified because there was no longer any simple way to define him.

He was not Lin Qui.

But neither was he Sol.

He possessed qualities from both men, and the realization was far more frightening than either extreme on its own.

The execution dragged on.

The initial excitement of the crowd disappeared completely as the civilians were forced to confront the reality of what they were witnessing.

The flames continued burning and the six prisoners screamed until their voices became hoarse.Then one by one, the voices began disappearing.

Damian did not look away, neither did his wives.

Mary stood with her arms folded, her expression tense despite understanding why Damian was doing this. Rah’s face had become pale. Hazel remained silent while Ruby clenched her fists. Even Racheal, who understood Damian’s willingness to become cruel when necessary, found herself staring at the burning pyre with a complicated expression.

This was not easy to watch.

Damian knew that and that was precisely why it had to happen in public.

After nearly an hour, the final scream disappeared and the square became completely silent.

The flames slowly weakened until nothing remained except charred wood and six blackened corpses beneath it. The smell of smoke hung heavily in the air, mixing with the far more complicated emotions pouring from the crowd.

And beneath all of it, a growing understanding that the prince standing before them was capable of protecting them with the same intensity he was capable of destroying his enemies.

Then the dagger began trembling as Damian stretched his hand forward.

The weapon shot out of the remains of the pyre and flew directly into his palm. He caught it effortlessly and lowered his gaze toward the blade.

A strange gleam appeared in his eyes.

[Name: Weeping Tom]

[Type: Cursed Weapon]

[Tier: Demi-god Tier]

[Description: Anyone cut by this blade is trapped in a mental hell where he or she constantly hears the screams of the haunted generals, sees visions of their deaths and experiences their pain all at once. But of course, this is only psychological damage.]

A cold grin slowly spread across Damian’s face. The weapon had been born exactly as he expected.

Across the city square, the civilians and ministers stared at him in horror. They had watched Damian display extreme kindness and extreme cruelty within the same gathering. The contrast was so jarring that many of them no longer knew what to think.

Only one thing had become clear.

The new Prince of Lust could not be controlled through public opinion.

THIS IS THE MAN WHO DEFEATED KAIZER!

Damian slowly raised his head.

He turned toward the thousands of demons staring at him.

"TO THOSE WHO HAVE SWORN LOYALTY TO THIS GOD, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR FROM ME. I WILL STAND FOR YOU, I WILL PROTECT YOU, I WILL PROVIDE FOR YOU. YOU NEVER HAVE TO FEAR ANYONE ANYMORE. NOT EVEN MY BROTHERS!"

The statement sent another wave through the crowd. Several ministers stared at him in disbelief. His brothers were gods yet Damian had just publicly declared that his people did not need to fear them.

He paused briefly before slowly unsheathing Weeping Tom.

The blade emerged from its black sheath with a faint metallic sound.

Then the screams returned.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!

The sound exploded from the weapon.

Thousands of civilians froze.

The voices of the six dead demigods surged through the city square as though their final moments had been trapped inside the dagger itself. People covered their ears. Children buried their faces against their parents. Several weaker demons collapsed to their knees as the cursed weapon forced them to hear the agony of the men who had died to create it.

Damian raised the blade into the sky and his crimson eyes swept across the entire crowd.

"BUT FOR OTHERS, THIS WILL BE YOUR FATE! MAN, DEMIGOD OR GOD, THERE IS NO EXCEPTION!"