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Inside of the cafeteria, hundreds of halflings were kneeling with their heads lowered. In the center, Palan stood on top of a pile of trolls, their bodies stacked like firewood. Blood was scattered along the floor and walls. A group of harpies hovered in the air, Cory and Emily flying directly above him. Raea was sitting at a table near the base of the troll mountain, eating a plate of mushrooms with Justitia. Only the sounds of chewing and wing beats could be heard. “No one knows where Solra is?” Palan asked, his voice severing the silence. His tails let him view the expressions of all the halflings, including the ones behind him.
“Solra is where Solra is,” the troll underneath Palan said. Palan snorted and stomped downwards, knocking the troll out.
Palan looked up at Cory. “Did any of your harpies find him?” he asked.
Cory shrugged and fell out of the air because of the motion, landing next to Palan. She cleared her throat as she sat up and blinked. “If they found him, they would’ve brought him here,” she said. “Maybe we really did smoosh him to death earlier.” She rubbed her head with the tip of her wing and fixed her hair.
“H-hello,” a voice called out. Everyone turned to stare at the tunnel where it came from. A young centaur was standing at the entrance with her head lowered, her usually pale face crimson. Blonde hair covered her ears, falling to her shoulders. A simple vest made of angel skin covered her torso. “D-did I interrupt something? S-sorry.” Her brown lower half shook as she tottered backwards. She sidled to the side and joined one of the kneeling centaurs, biting her lip.
“You,” Palan said and pointed at the centaur. “Do you know where Solra is?”
Everyone’s attention focused on the halfling, praying she did. They had been beaten up, then forced to kneel before the harpies and their strange new leaders. Palan’s reign of terror began nearly two hours ago, and a lot of their knees were sore. The centaur raised her head. “M-me?” she asked and pointed at herself. No one answered. “S-solra’s dead.”
“What?” Palan asked and frowned. Dead? Did he teleport somewhere and die? Somehow, he felt cheated. His eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
The centaur nodded her head up and down. She took in a deep breath and exhaled before clearing her throat. “The commander died of old age,” she said. “The insane benefactor has been nominated as the replacement commander of the army.”
“Died of old age?” Palan asked. “Where did you hear that from?” Anyone could spread rumors about their own death. Death was the perfect camouflage after all. No one would expect a supposedly dead person to plan an ambush. That’s how Palan managed to kill the leader of a small town in Eljiam.
“Err,” the centaur shifted her weight from one side to the other. “I heard it from my tribe leader, Mathias. He told us the insane benefactor is the new leader because Solr—err, the commander died.”
Did Pyre kill Solra? That would make sense. Palan exhaled as he walked down the mountain of trolls, each footstep eliciting a grunt. He stopped in front of the centaur. “Take me to that pervert,” Palan said.
The centaur blinked. “P-pervert?” she asked. Her face flushed as her gaze roamed over Palan’s body.
Palan nodded. “The four-armed pervert,” he said. Raea and Justitia approached them, still eating roasted mushrooms. Raea didn’t understand why the halflings detested the mushrooms—they actually weren’t that bad.
“Are you talking about that red centaur?” Raea asked and swallowed the food in her mouth. “The one who Cory, uh, corrected?”
Cory alighted on the young centaur’s back, causing her knees to buckle as she squealed. Cory leaned over and sniffed the centaur’s head. “She smells as stupid as the blockhead,” she said and nodded. “Definitely related.”
“I don’t think you can smell stupidity,” Justitia muttered as the young centaur matched the word pervert to her tribe leader.
“You want me to bring you back to our tribal grounds?” the young centaur asked and bit her lower lip. “I-I don’t know if I should do that. Only religious leaders and elders are allowed to bring guests. I’m unimportant.”
“Take me or die,” Palan said and folded his arms over his chest. Danger Noodle slithered around Palan’s feet and lifted its head off the ground, approaching the centaur. Its tongue flickered, touching the shivering girl’s nose.
A whimper escaped from the centaur as her legs trembled. Her tail pressed against her body while her wide eyes locked onto the snake that was tasting her. For a second, she forgot Cory was still perched on her back. “I can’t”—Danger Noodle’s jaws opened—“can! Can! I can take you,” she said as her body scuttled backwards. She lowered her head as she walked down the tunnel. Her shoulders sagged as she muttered, “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
Justitia pat the centaur’s shoulder. “Welcome to my life,” she said and nodded. “At least we’re alive, right? What’s your name?”
“I’m Cherri,” the centaur said. She raised her head and blinked at Justitia. “You’re an angel.”
“And you’re a centaur,” Justitia said. “My name’s Blossom. It’s reassuring to find someone lower than the rung I’m on. I think we’d get along.” She shot a glare at Palan who acted as if he didn’t notice.
“But … you’re an angel,” Cherri said and furrowed her brow. “You’re bloodthirsty and wicked and evil and lustful and greedy and vengeful and small-minded and petty and unlovable and lazy and gluttonous and cold-hearted and—“
Justitia pressed her palm against Cherri’s face, copying Palan’s earlier action against Cory. “I take that back,” she said and sighed. “We aren’t going to get along at all.”
Cherri tore Justitia’s hand away from her face and pouted, puffing her cheeks out. She whirled around to face Justitia and placed her hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t want to get along with you anyways,” she said. “All angels are terrible. They’re the reason why we’re down here. They took our lands and enslaved our people. You can’t just cover my face with your hand because you don’t want to hear the truth. All angels are evil, and it’s a good thing all of you are going to hell. You all deserve to suffer and—“
“Walk.”
A shiver ran down Cherri’s back as her head turned towards the side, her neck stiff. Raea was glaring at her with black fire falling from her wings. “Y-yes,” Cherri said and covered her mouth with her hands. She turned around and trotted down the tunnel, sweat pouring down her back.
The fire around Raea’s feet dimmed as she followed after the group. There were so many different religions: The angels had theirs. Cleo had spoken about hers. The centaurs had grassism. Raea bit her lip and inhaled through her nose. It didn’t matter which one was right, but she hoped Selena wasn’t suffering. If the centaurs insisted on relegating angels to hell, maybe she should exterminate them and uproot their religion. The edges of her pupils and irises blended together, forming a purple circle in her eyes.