Chapter 57: Valkorion (1)
The world dissolved into a flash of raw, unfiltered violence. Lucian was no longer sitting drowsing in a dusty academy classroom; he was instantly transported to a landscape of absolute ruin.
He stood in a Deserted Land, a vast, scorched plain where nothing lived or grew. The ground was blackened, cracked like old leather, and stretched out to a smog-choked horizon. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smoke of burnt magic. This was not a battlefield; it was a charnel house.
The whole area was engulfed in chaos, a silent testament to a recent, brutal massacre. Everywhere he looked, there were corpses—millions of them. They lay like discarded toys, scattered across the wasteland. They were men and women of every race, all wearing the heavy, distinctive knight armor that bore the holy insignia of the Church of Allfather.
It was the army of the righteous, annihilated to the last man.
In the center of this field of the dead, surrounded by the remnants of the colossal force, stood a single figure.
The figure was massive, clad in terrifying spike armor that was the color of dried blood and night. His helmet was the most striking feature; it wasn't a standard war helm, but a demonic crown. The top of the helmet bore three colossal spikes, angled sharply upward, giving him the terrifying silhouette of a primordial beast. His long, messy, ashen white hair spilled out from beneath the collar of his armor, swirling around his shoulders like a chaotic halo.
The man was standing still, his body utterly untouched by the carnage, yet his presence was a gravitational force that bent reality. He was a perfect, terrible sculpture of pure power.
A fragmented group of high-ranking commanders, the last remnants of the army, gathered their courage and formed a desperate semi-circle around him. Their voices were strained, full of fear and a misplaced sense of duty.
"Dark Lord Of Overia!" one shouted, his voice cracking.
"Valkorion!" another screamed, confirming the name that echoed through the nightmares of gods and mortals alike.
The leader of the desperate remnants, a man whose silver breastplate was cracked but whose eyes held a fanatic's resolve, raised his holy sword.
"Dark Lord of Overia. Lay down your weapons, you are surrounded!"
The armored figure, Valkorion, slowly turned his immense, spiked head. His lips, visible through the opening of the helmet, curled into a smile that promised oblivion. He spoke, and his voice was not merely sound, but a crushing bass note of existence—a sound that Lucian instantly recognized as the sound of true, final authority.
"All I'm Surrounded By Is Fear…"
He raised his left hand, which held a massive, obsidian mace—a weapon of war forged in the heart of a dead star. The air around the mace began to crackle and distort, consuming all available light.
"And Dead Men!"
With a roar that shook the very ground Lucian stood on, Valkorion attacked. He didn't move; he simply unleashed a wave of pure, concentrated chaotic energy.
BOOM!
The force was not directed at the remaining soldiers, but at the entire landscape. The ground buckled, the horizon fractured, and the pressure wave expanded with a devastating finality, a single blow powerful enough to destroy an entire continent and wipe out the memory of its existence.
---
Lucian's eyes snapped open. He shot upright in his seat, chest heaving.
"Huff!" he gasped, gripping the edge of the polished oak desk.
"Huff, huff, huff… what the hell was that?!"
He was back in the dull, stuffy classroom. The mage professor was finishing the last five minutes of his lecture on low-grade transmutation circles. The contrast between the continental annihilation and the professor's dry monologue was so jarring it felt like a physical blow.
"Hey Lucian, are you alright?" Christopher asked, leaning in with concern. He was the only one close enough to witness Lucian's abrupt, sweaty return to consciousness. "Also, stop sleeping, man! This is the second subject you've been asleep in the middle of the discussion, and it's the afternoon! Have some manners, man."
Lucian slowly pulled his senses together, running a hand through his hair, which was damp with cold sweat. His uniform was sticking to his back.
"All right, I'm sorry," Lucian replied, forcing himself to sound normal. "I admit it was rude of me to sleep on an afternoon subject. I don't know what got into me, honestly."
Christopher, satisfied that Lucian hadn't suddenly become ill, leaned back with a sigh. "Yeah, next time don't do it. Luckily, the Professor seems doesn't give a damn about anything but his publications. Also, don't forget what we will do in the evening, right? Six thirty?"
"Yeah, I didn't forget. There's no need to worry. The music room is ready," Lucian confirmed, trying to anchor himself in the simple reality of his friend's romantic drama.
"That's good. I knew I could trust you, man, you are the best," Christopher said, patting Lucian's shoulder without even knowing that his friend was still in profound shock over a vision that had potentially revealed his ultimate destiny.
Lucian focused his thoughts inward, urgently communicating with his companion.
'What the hell was that, Wraith King?'
{I don't know, my lord, but if my guess was right, you saw a prophecy or a glimpse of the future,} the Wraith King replied, its voice solemn and unusually subdued.
'What?! Are you certain about this? Also, how the hell can I even see a glimpse of the future? I'm not an oracle or a seer. I don't have any divine sight or foresight abilities yet,' Lucian argued, the logical part of his mind rebelling against the possibility. 'Don't tell me it's because I was his reincarnation? But I don't have my full divinity yet! That figure, Valkorion, the Dark Lord of Mordor, that level of power is far beyond even a fully restored Demon God! It felt… primordial.'
{I agree, my lord, it's impossible for you to see a glimpse of the future for now. Your current vessel is simply not capable of processing such data. But just how could you have it?} the Wraith King mused, genuinely troubled. {That power level, the insignia of the Church of Allfather—the dominant celestial power in this sector—and the name Valkorion... If that is your future, it is a far more devastating and powerful destiny than simply recovering the Demon God fragments. That was a view of the destruction of the cosmos, not just a world.}
'Sigh, just what the hell was that?' Lucian thought, rubbing his temples. The vision was a new, frightening variable in his already chaotic plan. It implied a final conflict that went far beyond his localized revenge against the Emperor's brother or even his fight against the Goddess of Fate and Time. It hinted at a cosmic war for all existence.
The professor finally dismissed the class, and the students scrambled out, eager for lunch and the end of the academic day.
After the afternoon class was done, Christopher approached Lucian again, noticing the lingering pallor on his face.
"Hey Lucian, are you alright? It seems you are still sweating. If you are sick, let's just postpone it, it's alright. At least I'm sure no one will court Marice this afternoon if Clarice is watching," Christopher said, showing genuine concern despite his eager anticipation.
Lucian shook off the worry, forcing himself back into his role as Christopher's accomplice. He needed the distraction, the focus on the mundane, to push the image of Valkorion out of his mind.
Lucian replied, his voice firm. "There's no need to worry, and I'm alright. I'm not sick. Let's continue the plan. The music room is prepared, locked, and fully stocked with musical instruments. Your part is simple: you need to convince Marice and, most importantly, the professor, that someone was injured in the music room and say it was me."
"Are you sure you're alright, though?" Christopher pressed.
"Alright fine. Now, let's do this. I can't wait, but I'm also scared, because I know I will get rejected from her," Christopher confessed, his bravado fading for a moment.
"You should not worry, Christopher," Lucian said, giving his friend a rare, almost genuine expression of support. "Even if you get rejected, at least you tried, right? That's what matters in the end. Also, we're the only ones inside of the music room anyways, so you shouldn't worry of getting embarrassed from rejection. It will be our little secret."
"Alright, thanks, man. I needed that," Christopher replied, giving a relieved exhale.
"You're welcome."
"Ah, yeah, before I forgot: the time. I will bring Marice to the music room at 6:30 PM, since it's still 3:30 PM now. You should spend your time for something else before then, so you're ready to play your heart out."
Lucian nodded, making the mental commitment. "Alright, let's meet up at 6:30, and good luck convincing Professor Clarice. Take care."
"Yeah, take care of yourself too, Lucian. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
After both of them finished speaking their plan, Lucian and Christopher parted ways. Lucian, being Lucian, decided to walk to the massive Royal Academy Park so he could eat apples and berries from the trees—a small, simple pleasure he had rediscovered in this life. He sought the kind of grounding that only simple, biological necessities could provide.
He moved silently through the lush grounds, heading for an uncultivated section where the fruit trees grew thick and untended.
MMM…
He bit into a crisp, perfectly ripe apple. "This apple is tasty. I'm glad I chose this area to spend my time for my boredom. And the berries too, they are tasty. Hmm?"
As he continuously walked, enjoying his private, self-serve buffet, Lucian saw two figures sitting alone on a stone bench near a secluded fountain: Amelia and Claire. It seemed Johnathan was nowhere in the park.
'Hmm, why are they here? It seems they are alone,' Lucian thought, observing the two female heroines who, like most, were destined to fall for the Main protagonist of the first game.
Lucian then ignored them. They looked like they were deep in a private discussion, and he had no interest in entering the drama of the main plot's heroines. He just continued to walk, continuously moving around the park, munching on apples and berries, letting the taste of real, natural sugar clear the horrific images of the prophecy from his mind.
'I didn't regret walking around here. There's so many fruits to eat, and it's like an eat all you can buffet. I'm full already. I should…'
Lucian checked his wrist watch. It was 4:32 PM.
'Two hours before the plan for Christopher to get score on Marice. I have to be ready to play the piano for hours if need be, to completely distract that siscon professor.'
Then, the focus of his worries shifted from the external chaos of the empire and the cosmos to the internal chaos of his heart.
'Should I find Silvie and Vennie? It's already 4, and I still didn't see them from morning until right now. They did skip two entire subjects in a day, which is highly unusual for the Crown Princess and the Duchess.'
'So much for a "talk", huh? What did they talk about? Was it because of me offering both of them a date? It must be that, but also because both of them are regressors, and they are already smart enough to discover both of them are regressors. Hah, what should I do? I hope they didn't kill each other.'
Lucian knew both Celestia (Silvie) and Serene (Vennie) were too smart, potentially smarter than him when it came to reading his emotional tells. They had even figured out his deep-seated desire to die just to save the world in their past life—a plan which he had meticulously hidden. Yet, Celestia and Serene, being both deeply obsessed with Lucian, knew his intentions and tried to stop him.
'If I didn't use the powerful sleep potion on both of them, they would have stopped me,' Lucian recalled, a bittersweet pang hitting him. 'I admit it was my foolish decision to sacrifice myself to save this world in my past life, thinking it was the only way. But now? I will be selfish this time, and only care about my loved ones and myself. I couldn't care less about this world getting destroyed if I become the Demon God after recovering the fragments i could create a universe my own with my love ones and myself. My only priority is my own peace and the people I choose to keep close.'
He had found a new reason to live: the tentative hope of his heart being restored. And that hope rested entirely in the unpredictable, dangerous hands of Silvie and Vennie.
'I just really hope I will be The Demon God before the last arc of the fourth game happens,' Lucian thought, linking his personal evolution to the plot of the world. If he was fully restored and powerful enough, he could easily neutralize any threat, including the Emperor's brother, the Goddess of Fate, and the entire plot of the game.
He looked up at the serene blue sky, a stark contrast to the apocalyptic vision he'd just witnessed. His eyes held no emotion on the surface, but inside, his core was full of worries—not because of his plans failing, but because of both Celestia and Serene. They were two nuclear warheads aiming at each other, and he was the fuse.
'I just hope they didn't kill each other. I just hope they won't. If they kill each other, my heart will be broken again, and I'll be left with nothing but another empty rage.' Lucian was beginning to realize that, for the first time since Seoryeon's death, he truly feared losing something. And that fear, painful as it was, was proof that he was finally, terrifyingly, alive again.