Eye of Death

Blood splatters were common during his time. Once the sharp edge of the heavy blade crushed bone and severed flesh, almost every convict would get stiff as a corpse, making a crimson mess on the execution platform, what with all the blood spurting out due to shock.

All sorts of people put their necks on the chopping block—the rich, the poor, the scoundrel, the oppressed, they all met the same fate by the same person. Some pleaded, some wept, some gritted their teeth, some laughed, it didn't matter. Once the hand that delivered justice, the church's justice, swung down, only the husk of a sinner remained.

Giovanni didn't care whatever happened anyway. For him, an execution was a means to an end. It gave him a roof over his head, it kept him fed, and most of all, nobody bothered him. Everyone left him food on his doorstep daily as if he had any use for it aside from his daily necessities. It's an investment, as they used to say, but he had no interest in exploiting this setup as he's content with his life.

"And pray for at least five times every day," the priest said as he wrapped up their usual counseling session for the day. This was one of Giovanni's privileges as an executioner of the church.

"Thank you as always, Father," the scrawny man said, his eyes staring intently at the fireplace.

If an outsider saw him, nobody would believe this man had slain hundreds. Giovanni looked like a typical peasant with his shabby shirt and rough, sunburnt skin. Thanks to the priest, he's been trimming his hair from all sorts of places now, but even with all the grooming he did, nobody dared approach him any more than they should. The people respected him, yet at the same time feared him. They feared the lean arms of that unassuming man once he left with those crimson robes tucked in his arms.

The priest sensed the man had something to ask. He's known Giovanni for almost a decade. When he's staring like that, it often implies he's deep in thought and wants answers.

The priest's lips curved into a slight smile. "Mind if I stay a little longer?" he said. "My legs had been growing weaker. I wanted to rest some more."

Giovanni twitched. "Since you're staying, may I ask something, Father? Of course, if it's fine with you. You don't have to feel obligated to answer, though."

"Let's hear it."

***

Looking back, Giovanni swore that moment was where everything went downhill. However, it also gave him hope.

Find her… Her last words. His mission.

Vanessa.

She burned brightly that night. Like prophecy, like star… Vanessa didn't utter a cry even as the flames gnawed at her skin, muscle, bone, and soul. She used her remaining time to lock gazes with Angelo.

Once he reopened his eyes, he could see.

Just as she told him... as the god told her.

The surroundings were filled with lines of different colors. Like a kaleidoscope, Giovanni's ability allowed him to see these lines and interact with them. Living the life of an executioner made him think they're for killing, and he's correct. Cutting these lines would kill anyone. He's not sure if it'd work on a projection of a higher being, but saving Rusl was his priority. He needed to try.

The lines of life. Giovanni was given the ability to see it. As if his fate always revolved around death, he couldn't break free from it even in another world.

With a knife in hand and a new name—Angelo—this new Giovanni brandished the blade and sprinted to the sovereign.

The serpent hissed ferociously as the ritual was broken. One requirement of a communion ritual was to never falter and never waver. The sovereign, or any higher being, loathed being roused from its slumber by a weakling. Odiar, for example, would immediately kill its summoner the moment it overwhelmed the summoner's control.

The serpent flicked its tail, trying to keep Giovanni away. Despite it being made of smoke, the Litanist flew and crashed into the wall of the second floor. Thanks to his training, his body was able to take hits like these without breaking a bone.

On the other hand, the snake put some distance between them. Too bad its size could only ensure its head, while the rest of its body was all over the place. As a result, Giovanni's blade managed to sever a line coming from the snake's tail. It wasn't fatal and the sovereign's hiss was more from frustration than pain, but the danger was apparent. One wrong move from the snake and the tiny human could kill it.

Angelo scanned the sovereign's body and found Rusl's life lines in the head of the serpent. Apparently, it didn't kill him yet.

"Sovereign," Angelo said, descending to the first floor. "If you may please release my partner. Please don't eat him."

The slit eyes of the sovereign gazed at Angelo's earnest request. Then, just slightly, its gaze shifted to the blade in his hand.

"We have a job, and he's the only one who can do it. This is your city, your territory, I'm sure you also wanted to help your subjects." Since the serpent bared its fangs, Angelo renewed his grip on his weapon. This might be the first time he'd try to cross a line and kill the sovereign. After all, even if he prioritized the exorcism, he hadn't received the covenant. Before a Litanist, Angelo was a human, and being one meant he's to prioritize his safety before anything else. "I'm ready to fight for him if that's what you want. Although personally," His gaze shifted to the part where the serpent's tail used to be. "I don't recommend that. Let's settle this peacefully. Please, sovereign."

For someone whose moniker had 'wrath' in it, Odiar was quite the reasonable fellow. If from fear or from its wisdom as a sovereign, it flicked it's tongue and relaxed. Angelo took that as a sign for negotiations and lowered his knife too. Then, it materialized a smaller snake to mediate the exchange. It slithered quickly until it reached Angelo.

Angelo, driven by guesses and chances, offered a hand. The mediator snake bit it. Then, he felt something mix with his blood. Poison. The snake poisoned him. He whisked his hand but he knew it's too late.

The larger one then lowered its head and released Rusl, now unconscious.

"I'll use your companion's voice to communicate," the sovereign said. "With my poison coursing through your veins, I can directly speak into your mind,"

Even as it used Rusl's voice, the dignified tone never matched the usually laid-back one of his friend.

"You possess a dangerous ability, human. I need to protect myself if you wish to negotiate."
"I accept this compromise."

So this confirms it, Angelo thought. He's wary of my skill.

It's too big a risk having poison that might trigger anytime but he couldn't have Rusl dying on him now. Aside from being the best Litanist they had, Angelo didn't want a friend's blood on his conscience. Besides, this level of caution from the sovereign might come in handy in the future.

The sovereign continued. "Since your resolve is passable, I shall let the ritual continue through my poison and you. Outlast it."

A multi-purpose poison, huh. If the science council caught wind of this I'd be dissected pronto. There's some questions to ask, especially the length and terms of the poison, but Angelo knew he could only pick one to ask for now. He chose the most important topic. "I wanted to ask a question as a gesture of goodwill for this poison you administered, sovereign. Do you know who gave me these eyes?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, human. Those eyes may be fearsome, but it works best when kept as a secret... like you always do," The sovereign's slit gaze seemed to peer straight into Angelo's soul. The man twitched in response to the imposing weight of that gaze. "I do not know anyone in the eleven capable of creating that. Although... I'm sure someone did."

"Does the ability have a name?" he asked.

The serpent gazed at the second floor. It didn't want to hear any more of that conversation. "There's a barrier of negative karma on the second floor. Once I'm done absorbing it, go inside the master's bedroom. Someone might be there."

Angelo followed his gaze. To think he'd still finish the task asked of him. "Wrath, huh. You're a good sovereign, Odiar."

The snake seemed to scoff at the remark. It's sure the human before it knew the reason why. The sovereign was hard to anger. If anyone succeeded in doing so, only then would they witness why one of its names included 'wrath unfathomable' in it.