Chapter 3
Dax stretched out his hand, and the black hole behind him shrank, floating obediently to his palm.
"I don't know if your world is familiar with this concept." A cruel smile played on his lips. "Let me show you something."
He pressed the black hole into his chest.
"Synthesis."
He beat his chest, and raw, untamed power burst from his body.
Master, you are insane. There was a tinge of fear in Inerous's voice, and it did not escape Dax's notice.
Crack! Crack! Crack! x900
Congratulations on breaking 1000 layers of your shackles.
Commencing trait completion.
Insatiable Hunger -> Origin Eater.
Race change commencing. Inerous notified him.
"Ahhhhhh!" Dax's voice shook the entire plain of Vabos, a sound like the death cry of a star.
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Location: Mount Gahena.
In a temple not far from the plains of Vabos, the Church of Light's First Ancestor, an old man known as Lord Blink, prayed for the impossible.
His eyes were full of tears, yet he remained majestic. He was once known as the strongest human, favored by the God of Light, Sterion. He was everything a human could dream of, yet there he was, crying and begging for something far beyond his reach.
What could it have been?
He knelt there, his bones dry, encased in massive golden armor that seemed ready to crush him at any moment.
Huh!
He raised his head.
Boom!
Divine force blasted him out of the temple.
"Please, my Lord. I've served you all my life… don't forsake me." Sob. Sob. The old man laid motionless, looking at the bright sky. "I begged for one thing, Lord. One thing. And you strip me of your grace."
"In my time of need, you depart from me. Your presence fades like smoke in the wind. How cruel."
"I gave you my soul. I brought honor to your name. I destroyed kingdoms that insulted your shadow."
"I see… I was nothing to you all along?" Tears filled his eyes, but he held them back. "All I asked was for you to heal my grandchild. Give her your blood."
The sky screamed, and an angel halted inches away from him, pointing a deadly holy spear.
"Micah, as your friend, I advise you to leave this place," the angel spoke, calling Blink by his real name. "I do not wish to cut you down."
They stared at each other, their golden eyes connecting. If Micah wore a mask, he too could have been mistaken for an angel.
"My friend, I can't let her die. She's the only one I have left." Micah sat up, looking at the distant forest.
"I see you have made up your mind." The angel looked at his friend one last time. "Micah, I truly wish there was another way."
"Falma."
Four golden figures appeared, drenched in divine might, each bearing the form of an angel. In the blink of an eye, they surrounded Micah. The angel, Aron, removed a beautiful white bell from his golden robe, a bell covered in angelic runes.
Bang!
The four figures drew their arms back, charging their spears with the very laws of the world.
"Darkness," Aron commanded. The golden figures began to turn black, their auras growing denser and more oppressive.
"Aron, all this to kill an old man." Micah smiled gently, accepting his fate.
Then, he heard a gentle voice. "Move forward, darling."
A familiar voice.
"Helga."
A beautiful, translucent woman appeared, hugging him from behind.
Sob. Sob.
"Helga! I'm sorry… I'm sorry I let you die." Micah cried bitterly.
In his time of need, in his emptiness, his wife came to his rescue, filling the void the god once occupied.
In that moment, he showed why he was called Blink.
Crack!
The ground within a fifty-meter radius shattered. He was gone, moving faster than sound itself, stepping on air. His bony structure and heavy armor made the sight almost comical.
The ground shook, but the angels didn't notice. Aron could see the figure of Micah's wife hugging him gently. He was astonished; he knew the dead could not easily cross over to the world of the living especially on their own accord.
"How?"
In his moment of confusion, the sky began to pour heavily.
Pat.
Pat.
Pat.
"Rain?" The angel looked at his hand, only to see scarlet droplets. "No… this is blood."
"Excalibur." A beautiful blade manifested in Micah's hand, its steel resembling the ocean, its presence radiating glory and magnificence.
"If you continue with your master, you will fall and become a demonic sword," Aron warned, his golden eyes piercing into the blade.
Silence reigned, broken only by the sound of the rain. "Excalibur, he is right," Micah admitted. But before he could continue, the voice of a child echoed from the sword.
"Even if I am destroyed here, I will accompany my master. You saved me from my solitude and granted me an experience I will never forget. I will never leave."