I BECAME A ZOMPIREWOLF

Chapter 733 Forgotten Sister (1)



Chapter 733 Forgotten Sister (1)

Days passed like an eternity for Astaroth as he moved through the vast expanse of planet Euphoria. His only goal was to find 'Her,' a girl he once called his sister.

They weren't related by blood; they didn't even share a species. Jaline was someone Astaroth had found during one of the many wars he had fought, and ever since then, they had been inseparable until he died and lost all contact with her.

Since his return to Xenithar, he had questioned everyone who had known her. But to his surprise, nobody remembered her. It seemed like she had been erased from their memories, but Astaroth wasn't sure how it was possible.

Astaroth desired Soul Killer to investigate whether it had been employed on her. Soul Killer, not merely ending a life, had the potential to erase a person from everyone's awareness. Perhaps Astaroth retained memories of her because he was dead while the Soul Killer was used on his sister.

But using the Soul Killer wasn't easy and required permission from the entire council. Astaroth didn't want to believe that the council would have gone as far as killing an innocent just to 'get back' at him.

However, as no council member remembered his sister, Astaroth was certain someone had used the Soul Killer and went to check the records.

Because the use of the Soul Killer resulted in everyone forgetting about the person it targeted, the Xyran council found it necessary to maintain a record of each time it was employed.

Unfortunately, Jaline, Astaroth's sister's name was nowhere in the record, which both gave him hope as well as pissed him off.

At first, he found relief in the absence of Jaline's name from the records. Yet, he couldn't ignore the possibility that someone might have wielded the Soul Killer without authorisation, bypassing the need to document the information.

That's why when Kro'Han told him about her, Astaroth used the Soul Killer on Ashton's severed heart, as he didn't want to remember doing something so horrific.

But as he still remembered about Ashton, it meant one of two things. Either he didn't use the Soul Killer properly, or secondly, Ashton wasn't dead. Even though Astaroth hoped it was the latter case, he didn't know how he would be able to face him when their paths crossed again.

'I'll sort that mess when the time comes,' Astaroth thought, staring out the window. 'I should focus on finding Jaline... if only these cultists disappeared, it would make my life easier.'

The ever-watchful eyes of the Cult of Cosmos were a constant hindrance to him, even at that very moment. Astaroth was never left alone, their relentless surveillance making it nearly impossible for him to try and locate Jaline.

Kro'Han didn't trust him, and as long as Kro'Han's mistrust lingered, the cultists would be on his ass, reporting every move Astaroth made to their lord and saviour.

The unpredictable nature of the Xyran made him a potential threat, and Kro'Han wasn't willing to take any chances, especially after their last meeting.

Initially, Kro'Han's sole interest in the cult was to use them for a specific task – delivering the powerful Precursor warships to him. Once they accomplished this mission, Kro'Han planned to discard them like insignificant insects, indifferent to their existence.

However, with the arrival of Astaroth, Kro'Han recognised a chance to achieve dual objectives. By directing the cult to monitor Astaroth, he found a way to extract some value from them. Simultaneously, this precaution ensured that Astaroth couldn't stab him in the back.

Meanwhile, frustration brewed within Astaroth as his attempts to break free from the invisible chains became increasingly futile. He played along, pretending to be the obedient servant, while his mind tirelessly devised strategies to elude the ever-present surveillance.

Just then, someone called him out, and as Astaroth emerged from his quarters, he found the Pope, the cult's leader, awaiting him.

Kro'Han's most loyal servant and fanatic, the Pope, wasn't fond of Astaroth. Probably because he was upset the Kro'Han valued Astaroth more than him, even though he was rebellious and untrustworthy.

"The Lord summons you, Astaroth," The Pope announced.

Astaroth's gaze pierced the Pope's hooded eyes before he nodded. Kro'Han hadn't called him once, so he did find it strange that the Precursor was calling him now. Still, he followed the Pope as it allowed him to leave his captivity.

Upon reaching a designated spot, the Pope told Astaroth to go ahead and create some distance from the Xyran. What followed was a sinister turn of events.

A sudden onslaught of attacks erupted from the cultists. A flurry of spells hit him, each strike aimed at incapacitating Astaroth. However, to their astonishment, Astaroth remained unfazed, his formidable strength and resilience rendering their efforts futile.

"You fuckers are terrible at acting. You know that?" Astaroth scoffed as he emerged from the dust and smoke. "I knew you were planning something the moment you brought me out, you fool."

With a surge of power, Astaroth retaliated. He wasn't once hailed as the deity of war for nothing. The cultists crumbled in the wake of his wrath, mere echoes in the vast emptiness of the castle's corridors.

He was but a blur in front of his enemies before their blood splattered all around the castle floors. Still, the Pope, standing at a distance, observed with a twisted smile.

He believed he had ascended to S-grade after being blessed by Kro'Han. Hence, that put him on the same level as Astaroth, and with the help of the cult, he would get rid of a nuisance like him. He didn't waste any time declaring his intentions towards the Xyran.

"Lord Kro'Han chose the wrong herald, you infidel!" the Pope roared while raising his staff. "and I shall correct that mistake-"

Astaroth, however, found the entire situation absurd. He couldn't suppress his laughter at the Pope's audacity and gave him a piece of his mind.

"You should talk about your employment to your employer, not to an intern, fucking moron!" Astaroth scoffed as another cultist fell to his knees, dead. "And S-Grade? You think that's where I'm at?"

In the blink of an eye, Astaroth closed the distance between them. The Pope's confidence faltered as Astaroth's hand moved with supernatural speed, severing the Pope's dominant arm. Pain contorted the Pope's face, a grim realisation of his inadequacy.

"Don't make me laugh," Astaroth scoffed.

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