Enter Me! The Skillionaire Says In Parentheses - Chapter 217

As of a sudden, MF was engulfed in a severe wave of turbulence within her head. Her vision darkened and reddened at the same time.

A huge sting was pulsating again and again. Whispers started to crowd into nonsense. She was barely able to move her limbs as her teeth clenched in the effort to repulse the emotional surge.

“T-this is bad.”

MF immediately rushed to the outside of the building and into the night sky. She immediately changed to her modified Anvriel’s First Form in hope that the extra control over her body helped the sudden allegations of intent that were trying to consume her.

The moon gazed at her with fear. She couldn’t control her intent to spread in every direction. Thankfully, having herself shifting into her divine form helped her to act.

Using her divinity, she started to create the same divine barrier with a little tweak of only maintaining the severe bloodlust that was spilling out of the glass.

Despite being conscious within the turmoil, MF couldn’t remove the sudden bloodlust that was craving to be repented.

“This is almost the same as the Red Thirst.” She breathed out with her gritted teeth, heavier than normal as her voice echoed and distorted. “This can’t be continued any longer…”

The feeling of hatred and anguish began to build up like a broken valve spilling its water to the drainage system. If she didn’t do anything to quench her desire to kill, she might soon be fully engulfed and attack anything she saw indiscriminately.

“Meshia,” a reluctant voice of Cyanotype could be heard inside MF’s head. “Try satiating the bloodlust by going to the west and kill as many Calamities as you can. It might negate the thirst somehow, tarara~!”

Without having the sanity to reply, MF followed the cue and soared the ghastly night sky. In her journey, she was met with a couple of flying Calamities. Without any mercy, she immediately crashed into them and ripped their body apart into pieces with her bare hands.

Kill count: 4

There were more bat-like Calamities trying to run away. Without having the speed to escape the unrelenting murderer, all of them were unreasonably teared into an incomprehensible blobs of flesh with every attack from the Pseudo-Angel.

Not even a smile and contempt were shown on her face. It was pure bloodlust that disregarded any kind reasons and emotion.

“Not enough…”

Kill count: 7

MF continued her journey to the west, to the Ancient Battlefield. She was supposed to wait more until more ‘void’ could be extracted to be her crafting materials but it seemed like the idea won’t matter anymore until this point. There might be quite a few mutated Calamities due to the radioactive mushroom cloud that she dumped in the middle of the eternal war zone. She was mostly excited to record and see the effect of her action like a proper research but it seemed like all of it was thrown out of the window in the name of the thirst of blood.

She met with more flocks of flying wyrm in the night sky.

Kill count : 17

Not only that she was displeased by the pleasant night devoid of the usual absurdities of flying Calamities, she began to feel sensitive towards the Calamity on the ground as she flew over a couple of them to the point that she mustered an effort to turn back and jam a giant blood spear into their skulls.

Soon enough, she began to travel the sky and the ground back and forth like a relentless black lightning in the night shadow, brutally killing any kind of impurities of ‘void’ on her perception.

To her victims, she was perceived as a greater Calamity, surpassing those of an Rank-S threat as the bloodlust began to overwhelm her own divine barrier and began to drip into reality, intoxicating any kind of sane living being within the vicinity of one kilometers around her.

Those that were able to perceive the dangerous killing intent immediately tried to run away, but it was mostly already too late because the Pseudo-Angel had already gone to their location if they were even able to perceive that wavelength.

Up and down, from the sky to the ground again and again like a sparking plasma within a conductor, the red angel had massacred many lives away from its body.

Kill count: 67

Until finally she reached the outskirts of the Ancient Battlefield. Immediately, she was greeted by a large beam of inferno coil straight to the dimly lit night sky. With pure killing intent, MF conjured a huge spear made out of blood and hurled it to the perpetrator’s direction, killing everything in its oath.

A hole of flesh was carved out from the seemingly angry giant. The class, ranks, or the Calamity’s name didn’t matter. MF only cared to inflict the most painful physical trauma to anything that moves and breathes.

A monstrously large centipede weaved the air, only for its carapace to get plucked in one motion as the Pseudo-Angel travelled through its whole body while clawing its limbs into the inner muscles.

MF then  resorted to using the most brutal method possible. She then created a small version of COPID7734 and hurled it to the long range Calamities that were annoying her from afar.

The chaotic free for all brawl ensued for an hour.

Kill count: 2,797

Upon the mountain of the formerly mutated monsters, she floated right above the submit of the repugnant corpses of many Calamities in all sizes. The violent activity calmed her but it seemed like if she didn’t do anything, the bloodlust would begin to consume her once again.

“This awakening is the most troublesome one out of all I know from my followers.” MF ironically chuckled her divine voice. “The bloodlust seems to lean on more emotional alleviation more than physical stimulus.”

Cyanotype appeared behind her as she was finally able to watch the catastrophe scenery of puking pus outside of many leathers and melting skin. MF didn’t even need to close one of her eyes because she was already within the state of madness.

“This might be my theory.” Cyanotype reluctantly grinned. “But it seems like, because of your mindset on referring to the Calamities you fought as less worthy than lumping test subjects, the payoff to the bloodlust is decreased.

“Only when you subconsciously and consciously realize that you’re killing something precious, something that your eyes deemed as truly moving and breathing, only then the thirst will be satiated.”

“Huh, what a troublesome criteria… but it seems like you’re close with the truth.” MF straightened her posture, showing remorseful pity as an expression to anybody who would be the victims of her next slaughter. “It seems like we would be not saving one of the Rogue Citadel’s locations as a trading material, my awakening is more important than an extra chance of successful negotiations with the Association.”

“Tarara~ sounds like you will have so much fun.” Cyanotype licked her lips. “May I join the parade?”

“I’m sorry, Cyanotype.” A devilish grin appeared on her terrifying face. “I will be selfish for a while, so I’ll be taking all of your portion too.”

“Heeeeh.” Cyanotype surprised, she thought that Meshia would rather make it quick instead of embracing the bloodlust. “Then paint the sky and the soil in bright red, fufufu. I shall be the Harvest Section who knead upon their blood~”

Out of four Rogue Citadels, MF targeted the one that was actually being pursued by the Faranor Citadel within the wasteland on the southeast from Ouranos Citadel. The minor pseudo deity of death shall be plowing lives upon lives in the beautiful threads of flesh. The maniacal grin was soaring and soaring, bringing a huge amount of animosity cloud that was the result of her massive bloodlust manifesting into an optical illusion.

The Rogue Citadel was hidden in between the shaft of the desert in four key formation locations opposite from each other. Near them were numerous Outpost that was meant to distract any kind of pursuers from finding out the key point locations to reveal the hidden dark civilization beneath the sand.

As a small courtesy, MF mercilessly killed every Bearing Edge member from all Outposts she found even though she had already located the four formations that were connected to the concealment and Illusion spell of the wasteland.

Not only that she brought upon s painful death to each and every adversary that stood in her way, she made it sure that their body parts would be beautifully showcased upon their surroundings. Their head, eyes, guts, and livers, were all converted into gruesome decorations to prove her existence.

“AN ANGEL! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE—URGH!”

“WE’RE DOOMED! WE’RE DOOMED!”

“I DIDN’T SIGN FOR THIS! DAD TOLD ME THAT IT WILL BE NICE AND TOASTY IF I WORK AS A WATCHMENS! I HATE YOU DAD!”

Each of the victims were being taken care of with great affection as the Pseudo-Angel personally created a unique sense of pain to any Bearing Edges she saw.

From Outpost to Outpost, she had destroyed 12 Outposts in total.

Kill count: 3,356

Eventually, a huge and towering Citadel was unveiled. A civilization filled with clockworks and sorcery as numerous monstrosities were being tamed to guard every opening of the gothic sprawling castle that was creating a veins of backstreets and household for its dweller.

The looming devil looked upon the giant civilization from above. A drool could be seen spilling from the edge of her grin.

“Meshia.” Cyanotype manifested herself behind the Pseudo-Angel. She then leaned both of her wrist on the Angel’s exo-skeletonized wings. “I’m happy to see you in this state.”

“It seems like I need to spread my influence more often this way. It’s more fun.”

The symbol within her soul was fluctuating, it seemed like there would be a change in her deity’s status.

Survivor count: 9,122