NOVEL NEXT Chapter 56: Be Legend
Authors note: This chapter is in a semi-fished state. (Meaning: it has all the important parts but not the color text and story.) I will slowly fish it, sorry for posting this way but I do not have the time right now to write so much in one day.
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"In that fateful moment... Temorsth's world shattered.
The reverberation of his anguished symphony mingled with the haunting echoes of his mother's desperate screams. A surge of pain coursed through Temorsth's veins, a vivid tableau of agony as his life force spilled forth like a crimson torrent.
Amidst the deluge, images unfurled, each one a poignant portrait etched in the tapestry of his existence.
The air thickened with memories, each one a cruel reminder of what was, what could have been.
'Memories...?' The thought flickered, a fragile ember of recognition amidst the chaos.
'You!? Who are you to think so high of that monster!?' A spectral voice sneered, its intonation dripping with disdain, a phantom from the recesses of his past.
'This is... the end... son...' The words hung in the air, a somber requiem for the shattered semblance of normalcy.
'Give it up...' Another voice, tinged with fatalism, whispered through the tempest of his thoughts.
'Accept it... you are nothing without your false strength, "Son of God" gahah...' The laughter resonated, almost like a joyful plea for surrender to an inexorable fate.
'As I said... you will never be him!' The declaration pierced through the clamor, a bitter reminder of unfulfilled expectations.
'Ugh...' As the haunting voices of the past intertwined with his present, a numbing chill enveloped him, a relentless grip of despair.
The world around him, once vibrant, now sank into a sea of shadows. A scarlet curtain descended, veiling his vision, and plunging him deeper into the abyss.
'Son... I never wanted you to be "me" I just want...'
'Enough!' He bellowed, a defiant cry amidst the suffocating darkness. Memories surged, a relentless torrent, seeping through every fiber of his being.
The frigid touch of inevitability coursed through his veins, draining the very essence of his existence.
'I... know you...!' In that pivotal moment, as the crimson veil tightened its embrace, he knew. This was something he felt more than a dozen times, this dance with destiny was familiar all too much.
And the last time, a macabre encore of a night etched in unforgiving memory. The cold asphalt... the full moon, the night sky, the scent of blood...
And as the world, once again, faded to a numbing silence, "Do you, possess the strength?" an arrogant yet powerful question echoed on another plane, where no living could stay.
The face of death loomed, obscured by the scarlet veil. His gaze wavered, weakened by the relentless pull of mortality, and then a dark tune appeared.
'Brothers... It's my turn now!' A specter, the only one unafraid of the looming embrace of death.
But his words hung in the air, a chilling decree that seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of reality.
Temorsth's voice, once familiar, now carried an ominous weight, a promise of impending darkness. The atmosphere grew dense with foreboding, as if the universe itself held its breath, anticipating the inevitable clash between mortality and fate.
At that moment, a torrent of storming form tore through the air, a final cry against the inevitable... death.
...
In the harsh reality, all that met the gaze of the living was a forest ravaged by the desperate clash.
As Elah's anguished cry pierced the air, her eyes bore witness to a scene of devastation, a turbulent mix of rage and sorrow.
Simple words fell short of capturing the enormity of what lay before her. Yet, undeterred, she pressed on.
The presence of the swiftly approaching woman pressed down on him, making the elf attempt to flee, Temorsth's lifeless form still clutched in his grasp. He moved with uncanny speed, yet...
"Someone..." A sense of dread washed over him, compelling a wild strike with his right arm, nearly dislodging Temorsth's body.
'Who...' He pivoted, scanning for a foe that remained unseen.
'Uh...' Pain surged, his gaze veering right, only to find emptiness where his arm should have been.
*AAAgghk...* A single, brutal stroke severed his shoulder, a torrent of blood painting the infernal purple blaze that consumed him.
The rain of blood scattered inevitable death to the ground itself, making everything burn from the purple flames.
"Son..." Xalier emerged behind, cradling his son, eyes trembling, voice quivering at the sight of Temorsth.
Reverting to his original form, Xalier released his crimson longsword letting it fall as he reached towards Temorsth's wounded form.
The blade vanished as he withdrew the burning severed limb from Temorsth's chest.
Scarlet magic pulsed around Xalier's hand, guiding the shattered fragments from the grasp toward Temorsth's heart.
The palm and arm, now empty, relinquished, thrown to the ground, letting it succumbing to the devouring purple flames, but even as the arm got consumed, the flames did not weaken
Tongues of flame fell, and on the ground, everything there was now under its mercy, and now... There was no mercy now!
As crushed essence flowed into Temorsth's chest, Elah drew near to Xalier. From a distance, she knew, but up close, her heart raced, throat parched, tears brimming.
Through blood magic, Temorsth's form slowly mended, but even though, Xalier's hand shook.
The hindrance wasn't in mending his heart, for that was as natural as a breath. The true plight lay in Temorsth's mortality, his soul being far less attached to his corporeal vessel than theirs.
Yet, graver still, were the shattered Cores, his Life Force struggled to reclaim his heart, but it was in vain, dispersing into the atmosphere all the energy in him vanished.
With no reins to his energy, creation, and life itself eluded him. His Dantians once decided to be the conduits of dark and white energy, still lay sealed.
With that, they were left with naught but self-recrimination, each privately yearning for a single second, a fleeting chance to alter fate... Truly if even one of them were faster by just one second... It would have been a happy end... But they weren't granted such salvation.
In the tapestry of stories, not all threads weave a happy ending. They knew this truth, intimately.
Throughout as Temorsth's body gradually returned to its former state, stillness hung heavy. Xalier painstakingly reconstructed his two Cores, yet the energy, born of his essence, found no place within Temorsth's vessel.
No words were exchanged, no movements made, in these moments. The elf-man quelled the flames and staunchly halted the flow of blood, while Antanasia crumpled to the ground. But beyond that, none dared intervene.
From Xalier and Elah, palpable energy radiated, a stark juxtaposition to their outward composure. A tempest of power clashed within them, a silent maelstrom.
In an instant, Xalier and Elah vanished, yet the atmosphere held its somber weight, for they had not ventured far.
Inside the house, within Temorsth's chamber, Xalier gently laid his son on the bed. Stepping back, he fixed his gaze upon Temorsth's face, eyes slowly transformed to that of hatred.
As Elah materialized, she approached with tremulous, tear-filled eyes. Her hand grazed his face, tenderly adjusting the strands that veiled his features.
'Freeze my world... This moment...' A subtle chill accompanied her touch, slowly making a delicate layer of ice form upon Temorsth's body.
The frost soon encased him completely, unfurling from his body to the bed, and from the bed, it crept through the room. As the ice wove its intricate path, Elah faded away, a single tear caressing Temorsth's brow.
Ice crystallized around the house, the ground embracing its frozen touch. Branches of the towering tree bore the same icy embrace. Elah reappeared beside Xalier, their gaze unwavering as they surveyed the intruders, both their eyes void of sentiment.
In this stale world, where purple flames consumed everything except things encased in ice, Xalier called forth his sword, and Elah's form became wreathed in an array of elemental magic.
It transpired in tandem with the tree's complete frosty shroud forming a sort of barrier with the purple flames, a world of frost and fire resonated at the moment when the words were spoken.
"Let this..." Their voices resonated with solemnity.
"Huh?"
"Wait!" Doubt flickered in the elf-man and Nemes' eyes, yet Xalier and Elah's voices persisted.
"Let this day...!" Their tones surged with wrath, anger etching their faces.
"He was just a child, it not wort... what are you...!?"
"No, don't do it, stop!" Nemes silenced the elf in hopes he would not worsen the situation, but sadly, no one could make it worse... It was already the end...
The voice crescendoed to the highest point making even the world shook with it. A single sentence was spoken, "Let this day, BE LEGEND!" silencing all who bore witness, to the end and the beginning...