I Become A Mob Character In A Novel

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Is he for real?

This thought went through the minds of everyone present. The silence in the hall was thick, filled with a mixture of confusion, and disbelief. The regal figure on the throne, who had been so confident just moments ago, now looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Have you lost your mind already~" the regal figure on the throne hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment.

I chuckled, the sound echoing eerily in the vast hall. "Oh, I assure you, my mind is quite intact," I replied, stepping forward with an air of casual menace. The energy within me crackled the air around me shimmering with raw power.

The guards, still reeling from their failed assault, glanced nervously at each other. Their fear was palpable, a tangible force in the room. They had faced Samael, but now they were confronted with something far more formidable.

"Who... what are you?" one of the guards stammered, his voice barely audible over the deafening silence.

"Are you worthy enough?" I repeated, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge. The silence stretched on, the tension in the hall almost suffocating. The guards exchanged anxious glances, clearly unnerved by the change in their opponent.

"Answer me," I demanded, my voice carrying an edge of authority that brooked no disobedience.

One of the braver guards stepped forward, though his hands still trembled. "Worthy of what?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"Of knowing who I am," I replied, my eyes narrowing. "And of facing the wrath that comes with that knowledge."

The regal figure on the throne, who had been silently fuming, finally found his voice. "You dare speak to me like this?" he spat, his face twisted in a mask of fury. "You are nothing but a prisoner, a worm beneath my feet!"

"HOW DARE YOU SECOND CIRCLE PATHETIC MAGE!!! CHALLENGE US SIXTH CIRCLE MAGES," The second figure on the throne roared, his voice booming through the hall with a mix of arrogance and rage. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, and the air around him seemed to crackle with his barely contained power.

I simply smiled, unfazed by his outburst. "Ah, a Sixth Circle Mage, how impressive," I mocked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "But circles mean little in the face of true power."

The guards hesitated, caught between their fear of their rulers and the palpable dread they felt in my presence. Their indecision was evident, and it was clear they were waiting for a signal from the mages on the thrones.

The third figure on the throne, a woman with a cold, calculating gaze, rose to her feet. "Enough of this farce," she said, her voice icy and authoritative. "Seize him, and make sure he regrets his insolence."

But before anyone could make a move-

"Soul Suppression!"

The words reverberated through the hall, carrying an undeniable weight. The air thickened with an oppressive force, and the guards stumbled, clutching their chests as the breath was forced from their lungs. The regal figures on the thrones winced, their confident facades faltering as they felt the immense pressure bearing down on them.

I, the Soul King, exerted my will, my power extending outward like an invisible hand crushing the very essence of those who dared to oppose me. The guards collapsed to their knees, gasping for air, their weapons slipping from their trembling hands.

The second figure on the throne, the Sixth Circle Mage who had roared in defiance, now struggled to maintain his composure. His eyes widened in fear as he realized the true extent of the power he faced. The third figure, the calculating woman, clenched her fists, her icy demeanor cracking under the strain.

"You underestimated me," I said, my voice calm and steady despite the chaos around me. "You thought you could break Samael, but you failed to account for the power that lies within him."

The first figure, the regal leader, tried to rise from his throne, but the oppressive force of my Soul Suppression pinned him in place. "Who... what are you?" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

"Like I said before, are you worthy enough to know?" I replied, my voice carrying a cold finality. The oppressive energy of my Soul Suppression continued to crush their spirits, rendering them helpless and unable to resist.

The regal leader, now struggling for breath, managed to lift his gaze and meet mine. His eyes were wide with terror and disbelief as if he were staring into the abyss itself. "Please... show mercy..." he gasped, the once confident and arrogant tone now replaced with desperate pleading.

I tilted my head slightly, considering his words. "Mercy?" I mused. "Perhaps. But first, you will tell me everything I want to know."

The oppressive force lightened just enough for the regal leader to speak, though his body remained pinned to the throne. "W-what do you want to know?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

"Where are Samael\'s family?" I demanded, stepping closer. "Tell me, or your suffering will be beyond anything you can imagine."

"They\'re in the dungeons... beneath the fortress..." he wheezed, his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled to endure the pressure. "Please, just let us go..."

I released a small portion of my control, allowing the regal leader to breathe more easily. "And the key to the dungeons?" I asked my tone still ice-cold.

"The key... is with the warden," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "In the eastern wing... Please, that\'s all I know..."

I studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. You\'ve been useful, Now you all can...die a quick and painful death."

"WAI-"

"SHOW MER-"

"PLEAS-"

"Soul Cutting: Annihilation!"

Ignoring their pathetic outright begging, I unleashed my Soul Cutting: Annihilation technique. The energy surged from within me, a devastating wave of spiritual power that tore through the hall with merciless precision.

Without affecting their physical bodies directly, my technique targeted their spiritual essence, rending their souls with excruciating agony. The regal leader and his cohorts convulsed as their life force was shredded apart, their screams echoing in the hall. In moments, their bodies slumped lifelessly on their thrones, their souls utterly annihilated.

The guards, who had been struggling to breathe moments ago, now watched in stunned horror as their leaders fell before them. The oppressive force of my Soul Suppression lifted, leaving them shaken and disoriented.

I turned away from the grisly scene, my expression unreadable. With a flick of my hand, I gestured for the guards to stand aside. They obeyed without hesitation, their earlier defiance replaced by a chilling realization of my power.

As I made my way to the thrones and pushed one body away from my path, I paused momentarily to gaze upon the faces of those who had dared to oppose me. Their expressions frozen in the terror of their final moments mirrored the fate they had brought upon themselves. With a shake of my head, I turned my attention to the now-empty throne and sat on it.

The guards remained silent and motionless, their eyes fixed on me with a mixture of fear and awe. They had witnessed firsthand the extent of my abilities, and the realization of my strength had left them shaken to their core.

"Now," I began, my voice carrying through the hall with a steely resolve, "bring me the warden."

One of the guards hesitated for a moment, then nodded quickly and hurried off to fulfill my command. The others remained where they stood, still processing the events that had unfolded before them.

"Few of you go back from where you found \'me\', There is a storage room in it a girl is sleeping bring her here. Try anything with her and I\'ll make sure you regret it."

The guards, still trembling from the display of power they had just witnessed, exchanged uncertain glances but dared not defy my command. One of them nodded briskly and gestured for a few others to follow him as they hurried off to retrieve the warden and locate the storage room.

Meanwhile, I looked at my hands shaking terribly as a voluntary sigh left my lips.

\'Looks like this is the limit of brat\'s body, I have to hurry.\'

The guards returned with the warden, a nervous man with beads of sweat glistening on his brow. He knelt before me, unable to meet my gaze directly, clearly aware of the fate that had befallen his superiors.

"Warden," I spoke, my voice low but commanding. "You hold the key to the dungeons. Fetch it for me."

The warden nodded frantically, scrambling to his feet and retrieving a large iron key from his belt. He handed it to me with trembling hands, avoiding eye contact as if afraid of what he might see in my expression.

"Leave. The. Fortress. All. Of. You."

The guards, still visibly shaken and cowed by my display of power, nodded vigorously. Without a word, they turned and hurriedly exited the hall, leaving behind the oppressive silence that followed in their wake.

I noted the sleeping figure of the brat\'s woman on the throne beside me, her form still and vulnerable amidst the aftermath of chaos I had wrought. The soft rise and fall of her breath reassured me that she was unharmed, untouched by the brutality that had unfolded moments ago.

\'Wake up brat, Otherwise your body will go boom!\'

The words reverberated through the recesses of Samael\'s consciousness, a sharp urgency cutting through the haze that had enveloped him. His senses slowly began to awaken, the distant echoes of chaos and power filtering into his awareness. With a surge of will, he pushed against the fog of unconsciousness, striving to regain control of his own body.

As his mind cleared, Samael found himself standing amidst the aftermath of a tumultuous battle. The hall was strewn with the fallen bodies of guards and the lifeless forms of the regal figures who had once held dominion over this fortress. His body felt strangely rejuvenated, every wound healed, every ache gone—thanks to the intervention of the Soul King.

"I\'m... awake," Samael murmured inwardly, his voice tinged with both relief and awe at the sight before him. The throne room, once a symbol of oppressive power, now lay in shattered disarray, its former occupants reduced to mere remnants of their former selves.

\'This is the first and last time, I help you. Don\'t you dare forget it,\'

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[To Be Continued]

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[Word Count: 1783]