Chapter 740: Dark Days
(Planet Voralis, Righteous Faction Territory, Veyr’s POV)
After parading him naked in a cage through several worlds, the Righteous Faction decided to switch things up on the seventh day of his humiliation tour, as this time they organized something far grander in the form of a humiliation concert.
Chained upon a raised platform in the heart of Voralis’s Grand Forum, Veyr stood bound by glowing chains of divine alloy, each link thrumming faintly with restrained power as it locked his arms apart and fixed his body upright before a crowd that stretched far beyond sight.
Hundreds of thousands filled the tiers that circled the plaza, their cheers and curses blending into a single, endless roar that shook the stone beneath his bare feet.
Above him, the twin suns hung pale behind the haze of incense smoke, their light fractured by banners of the Universal Government that rippled in the wind, each emblazoned with golden sigils of power.
From hidden speakers around the forum came slow, ceremonial drums that beat like a heartbeat, setting a grim rhythm for what was about to unfold.
He could not tell anymore as to how many soldiers were guarding him, for his senses had been bamboozled by the dozen different drugs in his body, that somehow kept him lucid enough to feel the pain and shame, yet never sharp enough to break free or resist.
*Step*
*Step*
At this moment, a Monarch tier Commander in silver armor stepped forward, his amplified voice echoing through the square.
"Citizens of the Righteous Faction," he proclaimed, his tone smooth yet venomous, "behold the false messiah, the so-called Dragon of the Cult, brought before you to face judgment for his crimes against all of creation itself."
*Cheers*
*Roar*
The crowd roared in response, stamping their feet and clapping as if celebrating a festival rather than an execution.
Veyr lifted his head slowly, his expression blank yet steady, his long hair hanging in wet strands against his shoulders as the chains rattled faintly with every breath he took.
He felt anger boil within him as he saw these heartless people jeer at him, however, he never let it show..... for he did not wish to provide them with the satisfaction of seeing his calm break.
"Now, I will start reading the crimes this false prophet has been charged with.....
Hopefully, he repents for the same.
However, if he does not, we shall whip him ten times for every crime he does not show repentance for!"
The Commander declared, as he unflurred a long scroll of crimes that Veyr allegedly committed and began reading them one by one.
"Aegon Veyr, for the crime of harming Righteous Faction citizens and murdering our soldiers, do you repent?"
He asked, as Veyr’s eyes flickered open fully for the first time, his expression defiant as he said...
"No.... No I do not."
*WHIPLASH*
His body jolted as the whip struck across his back, his eyes twitching from the sharp sting, yet his face stayed still, his chin high, his expression defiant and unreadable.
*WHIPLASH*
.
.
.
*WHIPLASH*
Nine more whips followed soon after, as Veyr felt his entire back burn in pain, as the top layer of his skin was peeled off his muscles.
"For the crime of killing innocent children and spreading terror on Righteous Faction planets, do you repent?"
The Commander asked next, as–
"No." came Veyr’s arrogant answer.
*WHIPLASH*
.
.
*WHIPLASH*
The leather cracked against his shoulder blade, the sound ringing through the square as his breath caught for a fraction of a second, but again, he did not flinch.
His expression remained calm, his gaze forward, the veins in his neck tensing as blood trickled faintly down his back.
"For ordering your men to commit war crimes, to violate and desecrate the innocent, do you repent?"
His lips moved slowly, his voice quieter but as unwavering as before.
"No."
*WHIPLASH*
.
.
.
*WHIPLASH*
The blows landed harder this time, the crowd howling in approval as Veyr’s eyes fluttered shut for an instant, the pain searing through every nerve. Yet when his eyes reopened, they were cold and unbroken, his jaw tight as his body straightened against the pull of the chains.
The rhythm continued. The voice of the general. The roar of the people. The answering word that refused to change.
*WHIPLASH*
"No."
*WHIPLASH*
"No."
Every repetition struck harder than the punishment itself, as if each refusal was another nail in his defiance.
At some point he stopped feeling the lashes separately, the pain fusing into a single continuous burn that wrapped around his mind like molten metal, but through it all, he stayed upright, his eyes locked on the horizon.
Then came the final accusation, the one the commander saved for last, his tone swelling with fury and theatrical holiness.
"Aegon Veyr, for defying the will of the True Gods and following the false god Soron, do you repent?"
He asked, as the crowd fell into absolute silence, with even the wind waiting for his reply.
"The true gods?"
He repeated as he lifted his head, his hair falling back from his face, his breathing uneven yet steady, as the faintest smile curved across his face.
"You mean the cowards who conspired and betrayed the Timeless Assassin?
The one who never fought Lord Soron for the last 2200 years because they’re too scared of his wrath?
Do I acknowledge them as legitimate?
No.... No I do not."
*WHIPLASH*
.
.
*WHIPLASH*
Fifteen times in succession, the strikes landed, tearing faint lines of blood across his skin, yet he stood unmoved, his eyes glassy with pain but his face still fixed in that same unshaken calm.
The noise erupted again, the square drowning in chants and curses, yet he no longer heard them, for either the blood loss or the pain made him start losing consciousness once more.
’They think this breaks me,’ he thought, his vision trembling, his head hanging forward as blood dripped from his chin to the floor. ’But all they have done is remind me why I must not fall.’
He forced his eyes open one last time, locking gazes with the front rows of the crowd, where influential nobles leaned forward to gawk at the spectacle.
As even half-conscious, his stare carried a quiet weight that made them shift uneasily.
"Guards.... Guards...."
The nobles mumbled in panic, as Veyr chuckled before drifting asleep, his smiling face annoying the crowd more than his words ever could.