Greed was fucking beyond pissed as he paced back and forth in his private quarters, his blue robe swaying due to the movement itself, while glaring daggers at his own feet. "How can this be?" Each pillage of those filthy villages came empty-handed in getting the holy man into their clutches.
The moonlight illuminated his chambers brightly through circular windows along his eyes, which spoke of malice and evil. "WHY HAVEN'T WE FOUND THAT BASTARD YET?!" Screaming at the top of his lungs, the minister could not believe his men had failed yet again to bring forth his true objective.
At first, he was delighted at the thought of causing so much destruction to these unworthy peasants who dare to oppose Queen Cinder and the Empire's greatness altogether, as if they're even worthy of calling themselves humans in the first place.
However, as much as he hates to say this, Greed became incredibly impatient at not being able to find a single clue to the man's whereabouts. What is more frustrating than anything else is that no one knows where Seth has disappeared, alongside the other wise man who followed him like a dog.
They should be captured by now and sent to her majesty, but he is still here, not even knowing what has happened to Seth or where he was hiding himself. In fact, it's likely Seth escaped while chaos ensued through the village itself, which means Greed's plans to succeed have failed him.
He feels embarrassed by the thought of failing when he was a boy; intolerance is what drives him forward. That boy desired to become richer than anyone else while surpassing his own father, who died by suicide shortly after his mother left them behind, leaving no room to raise.
And that boy is him. Greed just wants to finish this mission already, but it's really beginning to take a toll on his mind, patience, and overall sanity itself. Maybe going out and slaughtering those villagers is satisfying his anger for a few moments; however, it cannot replace what he seeks.
"DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! DAAAAMN YOOUUUU!!!"
Angrily throwing a raised fist onto a nearby wall, he slammed it hard enough to crack its structure. In pain, he held it in his shaking hand while breathing heavily from exertion. "I refuse to accept this bullshit any longer." Finding this very tiresome from doing it over and over again.
Greed wanted to torture something, anything, to let out his frustration and vent out of his system. He just wants to scream at the top of his lungs while strangling somebody into submission by grabbing his throat before crushing windpipes with his own bare hands.
How satisfying it would be to finally rip that priest's tongue out of his mouth for questioning his authority. Oh, how he has dreamed of doing that ever since their encounter back at Seth's former village. The imaginary scenarios of having his decipated head on pike as he himself eats the body with utmost pleasure filled with bloodlust alone made him quiver with ecstasy.
"Seems like someone is busy," a young man's voice rang through the dark room, interrupting the minister's train of thought as he snapped out of his daydreaming state to find someone he didn't expect to see in a place like this. "What? Cut your tongue, fat man?" He taunted the minister mockingly while chuckling lightly under breath.
Out of pure surprise, the minister didn't bothered to call the guards nor attack him, for he knew who this person was: "My psychopathic hired executioner and assassin!" He smiled in twisted satisfaction at the sight of a familiar individual before himself.
Standing in front of the window was a silhouette of a man in his twenties, wearing a shirtless green cloak with a hood to cover the upper portion of his face, revealing nothing but his grin, along with his abs displaying themselves proudly. This professional killer was Striker's loyal assassin after being promised to be freed in exchange for secretly working under the minister.
"I heard you have some problems, boss," Striker stated plainly, as if there weren't nothing more important than anything else going on right now, "Do you care to share?" Smiling while creepily cocking the head sideways in a gesture to hear the details.
"Striker, Striker..." Greed felt relief in seeing his loyal pet: "There is a little problem with my...mission." His tongue practically dripped with venom upon mentioning those simple words, having to recall everything that happened many times: "Those idiots don't know how to catch a single religious figure, all because of their incompetence!" Roaring furiously from these mistakes committed by mere human beings.
Raising his hand, Striker motioned for the minister to calm down as he was here to help. "Tell me more about this man you are searching for." Wanting to learn more about a person before jumping into action without proper intelligence beforehand.
Striker was once an executioner for the empire until voices and urges entered his mind, causing him to go insane and become a bloodthirsty killer who needed to kill something in order to reduce the taunting he was forced to endure. However, after being arrested and hired by the minister,.
He can't deny that there were a few times he was glad of being freed and living lavishly from Greed's side as part of his personal bodyguard. Therefore, he gladly agreed to become a personal assassin to take out their enemies. It is a way to reduce the chaotic voices inside his head that keep insulting him regardless of whether he is dead or alive.
"Long black hair with black colored eyes, a white garb, and a stupid cross necklace around his neck who goes by the name Seth," Greed described briefly as he raised his index finger for every detail. "That's pretty much what her majesty told me," informing the hired killer, who nodded slowly upon processing the information.
"Appearance is all I need," Striker confirmed as he took a few steps toward the minister with green eyes glowing intensely through the shadow of darkness itself, "a religious, innocent-looking fool with black hair and a cross around his neck, such a joke of a man that proclaimed to be the Son of God," stating that last part in a mocking tone as he smirked.
Greed chuckled as well, "The Son of God! How have I not heard that claim? These Christians spoke of all loving, merciful, and just omnipotent beings who hold the fate of everything in their hands despite being incapable of doing so. How laughable is that?" Snickering at their foolish beliefs in the existence of such a thing called God.
The rise of Christianity was slow but rapidly spreading across the empire. Some have converted to these mysterious religions, while others reject them for personal reasons. Either way, many in the Empire believe their religion to be nothing more than a made-up tale that cannot be proven.
To think that one single God is responsible for all there is impossible to fathom. Religion is a form of coping mechanism used by those who are weak-minded and use false hope and dreams to believe in. The only religion he believes in is power over those who can't defend themselves against that same power itself.
The power to force people to bow before his mighty glory while kissing the boots of people like himself is the only way to rule effectively without being questioned. Such ideals have been shown in the things he has done throughout his entire life, and he has never regretted doing so.
After all, those who are willing to kneel before royalty and tremble before their throne are considered to be toys for them to play with. Like children who treat their dolls like living beings with feelings and emotions of their own as they abuse them to their hearts content.
The only difference is that they don't break.
"These Christians are merely jokes, believing in made-up idol by some man in white clothes," Greed happily laughed upon remembering what happened in the past, "it will be a matter of time when he gets him." The idea of humiliating this conman is entertaining to say the least.
However, Striker had a change of expression from this. His look seems to be that of a lost child who can't find home; "the voices are laughing at me again and again and again and again." He muttered aloud at this fact: "They laughed at the fact that the holy man is also this world's messiah," saying it casually to his employer with a hint of sadness behind his eyes as he averted his gaze away from him in shame.
In response to those remarks, Greed snickered quietly at the thought, "Messiah? The chosen one whom shall bring salvation to this corrupted kingdom? Ha! An obvious lie created by those who seek the easy path of being commoner, not by strength of will," he spat with hatred, "let the man have his grandeur, for I'll enjoy watching him being dissected by me until he is nothing but a lifeless corpse for display," giving an evil smile of sickening joy at the thought.
Shaking his head, the assassin wasn't full of mockery or confidence but had seriousness in his voice. "What if this man is truly what he said he is?" An answer that greatly shocked his boss was, "Could he possibly be the one to save me from torment inside my head?" He was uncertain of the holy man's true nature as he pondered deeply upon this.
That question irritated Greed even further as he frowned bitterly, "nonsense! He is a fraud, a liar, and a false prophet! Even when the rumors about him had spread across the empire, many of his followers outright hated him for being proclaimed as God's son." The minister reassured the assassin with hatred in his words, "No man can be God Himself." He scoffed with doubt, "much less his son," finding all of this nonsensical and a waste of time to dwell in.
Silence filled between them as only sounds emitted from the cold wind outside blowing through, making chilling gusts of wind at the glass panels. Its no wonder that this castle has always been quiet and peaceful within these walls since the lingering fear of soldiers and servants alike.
Those who work here must always live in constant terror of greed. They may come and go about their daily routines, but everyone is afraid to do anything that will annoy the infamous folks running this empire. People say that he enjoys listening to their screams of agony after torturing them for hours or days, depending on the mood itself.
A life of eternal fear—that is the life that they all live. And fear he relished eternally to the very end because of how entertaining it was to watch them beg and plead for their lives. The power to make them grovel at his feet was intoxicating and arousing.
Despite how much he hates being the minister and wanting to become the primary ruler of this corrupt empire, he has gotten used to it by now. In addition, having so much wealth and influence to manipulate people into doing his bidding has been extremely gratifying for him.
Striker slowly turns his attention to the corrupt advisor and asks, "Do you think he can cure my illness?" The idea had caused him to be wary of Greed, making him want to vomit his stomach contents out of disgust. "These voices inside my head are making me insane; I'm tired of—"
"Are you intending to betray me, Striker?" The minister questioned in an angry tone while narrowing his eyes in suspicion, "Do not be a fool; I was the one who set you free after all." He reminded the assassin in a threatening manner, pointing his finger to his face, "Betrayal is unacceptable behavior, especially in my presence."
With one contemplative look, Striker nodded as devilish smirk was plastered onto his face. "I won't forget your kindness," he said simply, "it will be done as you commanded," saying those words while raising arms in defeat to signify that he had given up on the subject altogether.
"Good, leave my presence, and don't disappoint me again."