Hearing Hutch's words, those of the Slayer Legion were stunned. At first, they were too oppressed by Hutch's aura to say much of anything. But, in the next moment, a few shot up, livid expressions on their faces.
"You dare to rebel, Hutch?!" Catris roared, slamming his remaining hand onto the table beneath him.
Catris hadn't dared to confront Hutch before, but now he was most definitely in the right.
Wasn't the point of the Slayer Legion meant to be to fight against the oppressive rule of The Empire? The Ascension Empire hid beneath a guise of democracy, but when there would always be one, undeniable ruler, what kind of democracy was this? This world was simply a Monarchy with extra steps, there was nothing revolutionary about it.
Just how many actions had the Fawkes family unilaterally taken over the years with no one being powerful enough to stop them? This was exactly what they were trying to avoid, yet, Hutch was actually trying to make the Slayer Legion the exact thing they were fighting against?!
It was unforgivable!
"Silence."
A wave of Force surged through the room. Many felt as though their knees had gone weak, whatever thought of resisting they had had falling to negligible levels. Even now, they couldn't believe how large the difference between them and Hutch truly was.
"Brat, go sit down."
Hutch looked toward his grandson, a commanding tone booming from within his chest.
Elorin looked toward Hutch, a partially cautious and partially curious light in his eye. But, in the end, he smiled somewhat unexpectedly.
"Alright, grandpa."
It was simply too difficult to read Elorin. He really did seem like a kid trying his best to please his grandparent. But, just a moment ago, he was questioning his grandfather about the death of Mayfly.
Of course, there hadn't been any sort of edge to his tone back then. But, asking such a question in context most definitely seem to be combative. Yet now, Elorin pretended as though of that had happened.
Hutch turned away from his grandson, looking back toward the crowd of Slayer Legion elites. By now, many of them had paled. Without Elorin's presence blocking Hutch, the aura they felt came like a rampaging tsunami, crashing into their minds and hearts with a relentless tempo.
"Since you all seem to have forgotten the truth of our Slayer Legion, I will remind you.
"We weren't built to be rebels, we weren't built to help the common people, we weren't built to sit here and scavenge for opportunities to deal with The Empire.
"The truth of our existence is in our name.
"We. The Slayer Legion. Was built to kill."
A bloodthirsty aura surged out from Hutch. The sound of crying blades sung through the air, sharpening beneath Hutch's aura as though it was their perfect whetstone. Not a single soul seemed capable of breathing, let alone moving. It felt as though their whole worlds suddenly revolved around this one man.
"We plunder. We kill. Then we sharpen our blades and do it all over again.
"This is the fundamental law that rules us, that rules me.
"Monet!"
Supreme Monet was shaken out of her fear-induced state.
"Y-yes!"
"What is the history of the Slayer Legion?"
"We…" Monet grit her teeth and stabilized her breathing. "… We were once the spear of The Empire. However, we grew too dangerous and were thus abandoned and shunned. It was too difficult to control so many powerhouses at once, so the First Emperor of The Ascension Empire had us hunted down and killed."
If others heard this story, they would have been shocked beyond belief. To think that this was the true origin of the Slayer Legion.
However, the words Hutch said next were even more shocking.
"Wrong."
One by one, Hutch called out Supremes and former Supremes, forcing them to speak of the Slayer Legion's history, yet, of them could come up with an answer that could satisfy the old man. In fact, with every mistake, Hutch's reprimanding only grew fiercer and harsher.
"So this is the hogwash that's been taught?" Hutch looked toward his grandson. "What is the history of the Slayer Legion?"
Elorin cleared his throat, the simple action somehow seeming elegant. It was simply impossible to believe that a single man could have such a level of charm.
"We are the sacrifice. When alive, our wool keeps the people warm. On our death beds, our blood quenches the people's thirst. After our death, our flesh keeps the people fed."
Elorin's words shook those of the Slayer Legion to their souls. It was no longer about the voice that spoke them but entirely about the words themselves. It felt as though they had suddenly pulled their heads out from a vat of water, gasping for breath and finally seeing the world for what it truly was. The simple sentences tugged at their heartstrings, forcing their blood to rage like flooding torrents.
However, Elorin still hadn't finished…
"We are the spearhead. Our shaft stands tall without us. Our head glistens beneath the sun when it is time and hides in the night when it is not.
"Do you understand?"
Though the members of the meeting felt that their blood was boiling, they couldn't quite explain why. It was as though something hidden within them was slowly resurfacing, bubbling to the forefront of their minds.
However, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't quite understand what Elorin was trying to say. What sacrifice? What spear?
Elorin glanced around him, his expression calm.
"We are the Slayers. Our work is entertainment when the Emperor deems it fit. Our services are ostracized when He does not.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
The upper echelon's expressions flushed red, their jaws clenching.
"The Slayer Legion is…" Hutch began to speak in an even tone, his pace unhurried. "… The hidden army of The Empire.
"In times of war, we join the battlefield to become their spearheads. In times of peace, we become their sacrifices.
"Now.. Sharpen your spears."