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The Gods looked upon this and wondered to themselves. The Darkest of them were enjoying the sport yet they did not see it as meaningful. There was no pleasure or ecstasy of pain coming from this mayhem and no skulls could be claimed now. Not when the butcher was set upon it.
The creature’s own god simply laughed, laughter coming from its twisted mind of its servants. It did not accept such a monster for why would it? The Abomination was like a symbol of its contempt for the world and sheer genius on display. Why now it was simply trying its hardest to keep the show going, to torture the minds of those who would attempt to slay its champion.
Those that were good and Holy looked upon it, fearing that such a thing would only bring poison upon their realms. If such an Abomination from Hell was to be graced by any of their domains they would have to wash clean all the souls that gazed upon it.
As Lucian stood amongst a heap of flesh and blood, all of it still withering to try and kill him, a choice was made. One God had made the decision that such a creature would be given the salvation that death could grant. That its soul would find eternal rest from its tormented existence that it had led for far too long.
A twist of the air, a glowing of the blade, and Lucian struck the Hell Pit Abomination once more. A shutter of green warpfire covering the entire corpse as the energies orchestrated by the Great Horned Rat found themselves without flesh to rest within.
A simple motion, admitting it to the Gardens where it shall be smothered into dirt and told to rest for all eternity.
Lucian stood on top of the corpse, his body wrecked with injuries that he could not feel. A hard fought battle came to an end as the mass of meat and bones melted underneath his feet.
He breathed, the burning of a God’s fury washing away as he looked to see the last of the Rat Ogres have their heads ripped up by the muscles of a Kroxigor. He breathed, breathed, and looked around. His senses not disappearing but instead snapping into a tight focus as he looked towards one of the many fires that could be seen through the greenish haze.
There stood Wigmar, the subtly glowing blade in hand and a torch in another, at one of the entrances. The man took the torch and lit the wood supports that were holding that entrance up. The wood had already started to buckle as the flame licked the fibers. Lucian will not have his head this day.
>RUN!
>Vow vengeance, then run.
