Undead Beast Master: Living Solely for My Desires

Vera chuckled softly, putting a hand over her stomach in an attempt not to burst into complete laughter.

"So let me get this straight—you've been living until now with the sole goal of killing the gods, yet you don't know how it's done?"

Zaroth didn't share her amusement. His expression remained unmoved.

"Yes, all this time I've been growing stronger in preparation for when I finally meet them. But I still don't know where to find them in the first place."

Letting out a sigh, Vera's gaze drifted to the upper part of the glass dome, no doubt a little worried about the meteor shower happening above.

"There are many ways," she said after some time, finally parting her lips.

"It depends on the specific god you want to kill. Some you can kill by eliminating the people who believe in them. Others you can find in their physical form and kill outright. Haven't you killed a demigod already? The process is likely something similar."

Zaroth nodded slowly. By the way she spoke, it was clear she wasn't completely sure herself—not that it was surprising. Expecting her to know how to kill a god would be an overestimation, even for her.

"There's also the option of making them come to you."

"Come to me?" he asked in disbelief. The idea had never even crossed his mind.

"Yes, but to do that, you have to understand how they function and why they give us their blessings."

It wasn't something most people ever considered. Humans simply assumed they were the dominant race, taking divine blessings for granted and exploiting them as their right.

"I believe a god's power isn't absolute," Vera continued. "It fluctuates. It can grow… or it can falter."

She pointed at Zaroth, then at herself.

"We are their subjects, their vessels. They grant us power, giving us the opportunity to rise higher. And the power we accumulate goes back to them, making them stronger."

"The more subjects that have their blessing, the more powerful the god? Is that what you're saying?"

Vera simply nodded, not wanting to spell it out.

This led Zaroth to grit his teeth, his thoughts swirling. What she was basically telling him was that the fewer people with blessings, the weaker the gods would become. So to weaken the gods—maybe even taunt them into attacking him—he would have to kill countless humans.

But hadn't he already done that? He had killed millions, after all.

Yet sadly, even those few million meant little in the grand scheme. Just in the Draconian Empire alone, there were over 100 million people. How many lived in the other empires? Scratch that—how many empires existed on the human continents?

In the face of billions, what difference did it make if he had killed a million or two in some mortal war?

'So I have to go on a killing spree, killing everything in sight just to make them weaker?' A chuckle escaped his dry lips. Fighting in a war, killing those who had initiated battle, was one thing. But killing aimlessly? That was something else entirely. Even if the strong could step over the weak, they didn't outright slaughter them.

"Then what about Fragments?" A glimmer of hope struck. If blessings empowered the gods who gave them, did fragments do the same?

"They're similar, but not quite," Vera plainly answered.

"From what I know, a god can only give one Fragment at a time. The people who carry them—'Fated Ones,' they're called—are on a level above anyone with just a blessing. Unique. Often, they can communicate with their god in some form. Not through words, maybe, but through commands. The god might urge them to fight, to survive, to kill something—or someone."

'They can manipulate what we think?'

For just a fraction of a second, he wondered if the only reason he wanted to kill the gods was because of the influence of the Fragment in him. But then he shook off the idea. He'd wanted to do that ever since his mother got the muscle rot curse. These desires were his. Not from some foreign entity.

The glass dome trembled—the meteor shower had intensified.

"What is your goal then? You bear a Fragment too, so you must have some desire in all of this." he asked.

"Peace," her voice cracked.

"I just want to stop having these visions—these cursed things akin to nightmares that torment me every single day and night."

"And to get rid of them… you have to kill the gods?"

Her head turned sharply. She stared at him, eyes locked—piercing, even behind the mask.

"Hopefully."

Zaroth frowned. "Then why me? If you're here, if you've chosen to stand beside me… you must believe I have a real chance. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come."

At the quiet end of his words, Vera's shoulder trembled—this was the first time she had shown any hint of vulnerability.

"My visions… they're not necessarily things that will come true. It's more like a scene that could happen, if the right events align."

"Scene?" Zaroth asked, not quite understanding.

She nodded slowly,

"Yes. A vision shows me a possible future—or a secret buried long ago. They vary in length. Some last just a few minutes. Others stretch into hours, days, weeks… even months. Thankfully at the end most of them end up in a blur, so I don't get too overwhelmed."

She took a deep breath.

"But the worst part—there's always a subject. In order to see the vision, I have to become someone else. I see through their eyes—I am them. Their fear, their doubts, their troubles, their anger… and most horrifying of all, their pain. I experience it all as if it were my own."

'That explains why she always seems so detached,' Zaroth thought. 'Even during the meteor shower, she didn't show any fear. On the contrary, she stayed calm, directing me on what to do if I wanted to survive.'

To be able to remain completely calm was a testament to how much she must have suffered during her visions. It was definitely not something for the weak-minded… in fact, even the strongest minds would have eventually buckled under the weight.

If Zaroth had been forced to endure something like this, what would become of him? Would he remain unchanged, or would he warp further—twisted and broken beyond what he already was? After all, whenever loneliness or overwhelm crept in, he could always turn to Luna—she lived in his mind and could bring him solace.

Vera, however… she was utterly alone, with no one to understand her.

She chuckled coldly.

"At the beginning, they weren't that bad. Sure, they were unpleasant—some horrible things happened from time to time. But nothing… nothing that could scar me deeply. Nothing that would change who I am."

Her grip on her staff visibly tightened, knuckles turning white.

"But then… something changed. A few weeks before I started my fourth year at the academy—fate twisted, destiny intervened, the gods defied, the heavens enraged."

Zaroth's eyes widened in realization.

'That was exactly when I received my blessing.'

Unknowingly, his fists clenched.

'Did I somehow cause her pain… just by becoming a beast master and taming Luna?'

"Since then," Vera whispered, voice cracking again,

"My visions have never been the same."