《ETHEREA:THE SCION’S AWAKENING》


 Prologue (part one)

    The city sprawled below, its glittering lights mocking the silence in the office. Erick sat at his desk, a glass of whiskey resting before him. Across the room, Arlen stood by the window, his reflection a blur in the glass.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet all day,¡± Erick said, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp, watching Arlen¡¯s every move.


    Arlen didn¡¯t respond immediately. He stood motionless, his shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on the skyline. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and distant. ¡°We¡¯ve come a long way.¡±


    Erick leaned back, frowning. ¡°Yeah, we have¡ªwhich is why you should stop brooding. Tonight¡¯s a win, Arlen. Celebrate.¡±


    Arlen turned, his face pale under the lights, showing a strange and hollow expression. ¡°Celebrate,¡± he echoed, bitterness in his voice, his eyes flicking toward the whiskey glass.


    The shift in the air was subtle but unmistakable. Erick¡¯s instincts sharpened, his fingers twitching as unease crept in.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Arlen?¡± he asked, his voice low.


    Arlen took a slow step forward. ¡°The board,¡± he said softly, ¡°doesn¡¯t trust you anymore. They think you¡¯re¡­ an inconvenience. A liability.¡±


    Erick stiffened, his jaw tightening. ¡°A liability? After everything I¡¯ve done for this company?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re afraid you¡¯ll take everything down with you when things don¡¯t go your way.¡± Arlen¡¯s voice cracked¡ªa mix of guilt and frustration. ¡°They gave me a choice, Erick. Convince you to step aside quietly, or¡­¡±


    ¡°Or what, Arlen?¡± Erick demanded, his eyes narrowing.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.Arlen hesitated, then looked directly at him, his gaze heavy with regret. ¡°Or ensure you don¡¯t get the chance to fight back.¡±


    The meaning hit like a sledgehammer. Erick¡¯s gaze dropped to the glass of whiskey, realization dawning. The amber liquid shimmered innocently under the light, but the truth was now fully clear.


    ¡°You poisoned me,¡± Erick said, his voice cold.


    Arlen didn¡¯t deny it, his silence confirmation enough.


    ¡°You made your choice before I even walked in,¡± Erick continued, his fury simmering beneath the surface. ¡°All this talk, this act of remorse¡ªit¡¯s meaningless.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want it to be this way,¡± Arlen said, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°But you left me no choice. I¡¯m trying to save what we built.¡±


    ¡°Save it?¡± Erick snorted, rising to his feet. ¡°You think stabbing me in the back will save anything? You¡¯re nothing but a coward.¡±


    Arlen flinched but didn¡¯t move. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Erick. This is the only way.¡±


    A wave of searing pain surged through Erick¡¯s chest, cutting off his retort. He staggered, gripping the edge of the desk for support as the poison spread like wildfire through his veins. His vision blurred, the world tilting as his legs gave out beneath him.


    Arlen rushed forward but stopped short, his face stricken with guilt. ¡°I didn¡¯t want this,¡± he said, his voice trembling.


    Erick¡¯s lips curled into a bitter smile as he sank to his knees. ¡°You¡¯ll regret this,¡± he rasped, his voice laced with venom.


    The room grew darker, the edges of Arlen¡¯s face fading into shadow. The last thing Erick saw was his best friend, frozen in silent anguish, before blackness swallowed him whole.

 Rebirth

    The world dissolved around Erick¡ªthe cold floor, the oppressive office lights¡ªreplaced by a cold emptiness. He felt himself falling, his body weightless, yet somehow being hurled downward by an overwhelming force.


    The descent grew faster, the pull stronger, until it felt as though he was being torn apart limb by limb. He could no longer tell if he was screaming or silent as time blurred into nothingness: seconds, hours, days? It didn¡¯t matter. Time had lost all meaning. Then, in the distance, a faint glow appeared, piercing through the blackness like a needle through cloth.


    As he hurtled toward it, the glow grew brighter, revealing ten towering figures standing in perfect formation. They radiated an otherworldly light, their silhouettes sharp and imposing against the endless void.


    The figures did not move. They did not speak. They simply existed, their silent presence filling the emptiness.


    Their light illuminated nothing but Erick, as though the darkness itself recoiled from their radiance. Despite their faceless forms, he felt their gaze¡ªten pairs of unseen eyes boring into him, peeling into his skin to judge his soul.


    His fall slowed, the crushing pull easing as he drifted closer to the figures. The light surrounding them pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm, like the beating of a colossal heart.


    Erick felt the weight of their presence pressing down on him, a reminder of his own... insignificance. Yet, within their gaze, something stirred inside him.


    Suddenly, the figures began to fade, their light dimming until only their silhouettes remained. Then, one by one, they vanished, leaving him alone in the suffocating black. The silence that followed was crushing. Then, as if to remind him of his helplessness, the void surged around him again, the pull reversing. He was thrust upward, propelled by a force far greater than his own.


    The darkness tore away, fragments scattering like ash.


    Erick awoke with a violent gasp, his chest and skull wracked with a stabbing pain. He heaved for breath, his lungs burning as though he¡¯d been suffocating underwater for hours.


    The scene around him was a grotesque nightmare, almost too much for his spinning mind to process. The stench hit him first: a rancid blend of putrefaction and iron, thick enough to coat his throat. He gagged, bile rising and vomiting into the slick red pool beneath him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Blood!


    It was blood that seeped into his trembling hands, thick and viscous. He could feel it clinging to his skin, soaking into what he was wearing.


    Erick¡¯s eyes darted around the ground as his vision swam, and the terror in his chest only deepened.the blood wasn¡¯t alone .


    Around him,the remains of bodies lay strewn across the ground broken and lifeless. A hand,pale and limp protruded from a pile of rubble nearby it¡¯s fingers still curled as they had been clawing at the earth in their final moments


    A small, charred corpse lay a few feet away from him, its features unrecognizable beneath the soot and dried blood.Erick¡¯s heart clenched as he realized it was small¡ªtoo small


    The more Erick¡¯s eyes adjusted to his surroundings,the more he saw faces twisted in agony, bodies torn apart and scorch marks that stretched across like scars, he was surrounded by death.


    The sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps broke through his haze, each thud growing louder and closer. Erick turned his head weakly toward the noise. His vision swam, but the figure coming toward him was unmistakable: a towering creature clad in black, fog-shrouded armor. The dim light revealed a scarred, grotesque face that vaguely resembled a human¡ªyet not quite. His features were twisted, as if he was abandoned halfway through creation.


    The creature strode forward, reaching down to grab Erick by the arm. Its grip was vise-like; it lifted him with little effort, forcing him onto his toes. Erick¡¯s breath hitched, terror filling his veins.


    ¡°Mortem!¡± the scarred man barked, his voice sounding more like a guttural growl. ¡°This one¡¯s alive. Come inspect him, lest he end up like the others.¡±


    A deep grunt of acknowledgment rumbled from the shadows behind Erick.


    Fear surged in his chest as he strained over his shoulder, desperate to see this new threat.


    A massive shape emerged from the shadows, its shadow swallowing what little light remained. Erick¡¯s stomach dropped as the figure came into view: a hulking, monstrous abomination that dwarfed even the scarred man.


    Mortem wasn¡¯t a human. He wasn¡¯t even a corrupted version of one, like what Erick thought the scarred man was¡ªan amalgamation of flesh and bone.


    Mortem seized Erick from the scarred man with unsettling delicacy, as though he were handling a newborn. Suspended in the creature¡¯s monstrous grip, Erick could only take in the horror before him.


    Mortem¡¯s six-fingered hands were pale and mostly fleshless, the bone gleaming unnaturally under the dim light. His segmented arms looked like they had been stitched together from pieces of different skin, each patch varying from ash-gray to deep, rotting purple. His head was grotesque, a fusion of skull and flesh with sunken, hollowed eyes and a grotesquely large square jaw.


    ¡°Do not fear,¡± Mortem rasped, his voice like metal scraping over stone. ¡°Mortem make you better. Mortem not let you end up like others.¡±


    His lips curled back, revealing jagged, blackened, bloodstained teeth in what might have been a smile or perhaps even a sneer.


    Erick¡¯s stomach churned as he didn¡¯t even dare to imagine what Mortem had in store for him.

 The gathering

    The Council Hall of the Citadel loomed, its towering black walls steeped in the weight of centuries. At the center of the room stood the blackstone table, its surface etched with marks that glimmered faintly in the dim light. Encircling it were twelve black stone chairs, each carved with the sign of its master¡¯s legion.


    At the head of the table stood Tavian Hillsaint, his very presence commanding the room. His black-and-gold armor gleamed faintly, the intricate sigils on its surface pulsing with latent energy. His violet eyes, cold and calculating, swept across the gathered knights as he spoke, his voice sharp as a blade.


    ¡°A village near the southern border of the Empire has been destroyed. Every soul extinguished,¡± Tavian began, his jaw tightening. ¡°A rider from House Quorwyn brought word about a week ago. He was badly injured, barely alive. Our mages detected the taint of Chaos in his blood, but the rider himself was not entirely sure of the enemy.¡±


    The knights shifted uncomfortably, unease rippling across the room.


    ¡°He said the attack bore all the signs of the Cabal,¡± Tavian continued, his tone steady but cold. ¡°But he admitted that he fled in haste, unsure if he had seen them clearly.¡± He paused, letting his words settle over the room. ¡°Regardless, our mages¡¯ findings confirm the lingering traces of Chaos. That is proof enough.¡±


    The room fell into grim silence, broken only by the faint hum of aetherthat lingered in the chamber.


    ¡°The Cabal,¡± Ignara Tazrin growled, her molten-gold hair seeming to catch the faint light as if it were aflame. She leaned forward, her crimson-scaled armor gleaming. Her gauntlets¡ªthick, brutal constructs of dark steel, etched with glowing red veins¡ªflexed audibly as her fingers curled into fists. Sparks crackled faintly around her hands. ¡°Those spineless cowards. Let me hunt them, Lord Tavian,¡± she said, her voice sharp and brimming with fury. ¡°I¡¯ll tear through whatever filth they¡¯ve left behind and burn the rest to ash.¡±


    ¡°Pulverize is right,¡± came a soft, amused voice from another corner of the room. ¡°Though, with you, Ignara, I imagine there wouldn¡¯t be much left for anyone else to investigate.¡±


    All eyes turned toward the speaker, who lounged lazily in his chair, one elbow propped against the armrest as though he¡¯d rather be anywhere else. His glossy black armor shimmered faintly, catching the dim light. A single, ornate blade hung loosely at his hip, its plain hilt an evident reflection of it¡¯s wielder. Laric Luthar, Grand Knight of the Shadowsworn Legion, seemed wholly indifferent to the proceedings, his sky-blue eyes half-lidded as though teetering on the edge of sleep.


    Ignara¡¯s smirk sharpened, her tone venomous. ¡°Careful, Laric. I might mistake you for one of the corpses and leave you behind in the ruins.¡±


    Laric chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from his face. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d love that. Less effort for me, though I¡¯d hate to miss out on all the fun you seem so desperate for.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you fun,¡± Ignara snapped, sparks flaring from her gauntlets as she shifted in her seat.


    Tavian raised a hand, silencing her before the tension could escalate further. ¡°Enough,¡± he said coldly, his violet gaze moving next to the towering figure seated to his right.


    Ragnar Falkir remained silent, his storm-gray armor casting jagged shadows across the chamber. Beside him rested Stormbreaker, its massive head humming faintly with restrained energy. The runes carved into his armor flared briefly as he spoke, his voice deep and resonant, like distant thunder rolling across the plains. ¡°The Cabal dares to strike so close to our borders? On Etherean soil?¡± His yellow eyes gleamed beneath his heavy brow. ¡°Let me bring the Thunderclad down upon them. I¡¯ll crush their taint and scatter their ashes to the winds.¡±


    Before Tavian could respond, another voice, sharp and mocking, cut through the air. ¡°So eager, Ragnar. Isn¡¯t it just like you to charge in without a second thought?¡±


    All eyes turned toward the man seated further down the table. His silver-and-blue armor crackled faintly with energy, lightning flickering along the delicate etchings on his chest plate. At his side rested a sleek longsword, its blade engraved with lightning motifs that seemed to pulse with life. Darion Albric, the Grand Knight of the Lightningblade Legion, smirked as he leaned back into his chair. ¡°Perhaps the Paragon should send someone with more finesse. After all, not every problem can be solved with a hammer¡ªor whatever monstrosity it is you call Stormbreaker.¡±


    Ragnar didn¡¯t even glance at him, his amber-yellow eyes still fixed on Tavian. ¡°The day finesse wins wars, Darion, is the day I see you leading your Legion from the front instead of lurking in the shadows.¡± His tone was low, almost dismissive, as if addressing an irritating insect.


    Darion¡¯s fingers twitched over the hilt of his sword, his jaw tightening. ¡°The Lightningblade Legion strikes with precision, Ragnar. Unlike your Thunderclad, we don¡¯t leave a trail of ruin in our wake.¡±


    Ragnar turned slowly, his gaze narrowing as the air seemed to grow heavier. ¡°You call yourself lightning, but your spark is pitiful. Don¡¯t compare your Legion to mine.¡±


    Darion bristled, but before he could retort, a quiet chuckle broke the tension.


    From the opposite side of the table, Lysara watched with a serene expression, her flowing white-and-gold armor glowing faintly in the dim light. Her golden hair framed her calm features, and the jewel-encrusted hilt of her slender blade rested lightly beneath her fingers. ¡°Ragnar, your storms drown out all the other voices,¡± she said lightly, her tone carrying both amusement and gentle rebuke. ¡°Must you crush Darion¡¯s spark before it has a chance to grow?¡±


    Ragnar gave no response, his eyes shifting back to Tavian.


    Darion, however, scowled, though he inclined his head slightly. ¡°Your wisdom, Lysara, is always appreciated,¡± he muttered begrudgingly.


    Tavian¡¯s hand rose once more, commanding silence. ¡°The Emperor will want answers.¡± His tone was sharp, unyielding. ¡°Ragnar, you will lead the investigation. The Thunderclad Legion will scour the ruins of the village. Although it¡¯s unclear why the Cabal would raid such a settlement, I trust you will uncover their motives and track their movements if possible. But I¡¯ll remind you once: exercise restraint. Collateral damage will not be tolerated.¡±


    Ragnar rose to his full height, his immense frame dwarfing everyone else in the room. His voice rumbled like an approaching storm. ¡°The storm will strike with precision, Paragon. You have my word.¡±


    Tavian¡¯s gaze held Ragnar¡¯s for a long moment before he nodded. ¡°See that it does.¡±


    Without another word, Ragnar hefted Stormbreaker onto his shoulder and turned to leave, his heavy footsteps echoing like thunder through the hall.


    Darion watched him go, his fingers twitching as sparks flickered faintly around his hands. ¡°Precision? From him? We¡¯ll be lucky if there¡¯s anything left of the ruins when he¡¯s done.¡±


    Ignara barked a laugh, slamming her gauntleted fist against the table. ¡°Poor Darion. One day, you¡¯ll learn that challenging Ragnar is like spitting into a hurricane.¡±


    Darion shot her a venomous glare, but held his tongue, his pride too wounded to respond.


    Tavian stood, his violet eyes sweeping over the gathered knights. ¡°The rest of you remain vigilant. Chaos does not move without purpose, and I suspect this is the beginning of something much worse. You may all take your leave¡ªand may the gods be with you.¡±

 A worthy vessel

    Mortem¡¯s hand tightened around Erick as he lifted him higher until they were face to face. Erick gasped weakly, his body trembling under the crushing weight of fear and exhaustion.


    The hulking abomination tilted his grotesque head, his hollow, sunken eyes narrowing as though studying Erick¡¯s frail form. ¡°This one¡­ weak body,¡± Mortem rasped, his voice like grinding metal, ¡°but has spirit. Mortem feel it.¡±


    The scarred man stepped closer, his dark eyes glinting with irritation. ¡°He¡¯s all that¡¯s left because of you, you lumbering idiot,¡± he growled, gesturing to the blood-soaked ruins around them. His jagged black armor clinked faintly as he moved, his expression twisting into a sneer. ¡°The master ordered us to find candidates¡ªnot slaughter an entire village.¡±


    Mortem¡¯s deformed lips curled upward into something resembling a smile, his hollow gaze fixed on his companion. ¡°They weak,¡± he said simply. ¡°Unworthy. Mortem tests¡­ Mortem culls.¡±


    ¡°You mean Mortem slaughters for pleasure,¡± the scarred man snapped, his grip tightening on the hilt of the black blade by his hip. ¡°The master won¡¯t be pleased, especially if this one doesn¡¯t survive your ¡®testing.¡¯¡±


    Mortem ignored him, his gaze drifting back to Erick. ¡°This one survives,¡± Mortem rasped with certainty, his massive clawed hand shifting its grip. Skeletal fingers pressed into the boy¡¯s skin, not enough to draw blood¡ªyet.


    Erick squirmed weakly, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. The stench of death filled the air, choking him with every breath. It was the rancid blend of iron and decay, sharp and unbearable. Erick¡¯s tear-filled eyes darted around the ruins again.


    The bodies were everywhere. Men, women, even children lay broken and lifeless, their corpses scattered like discarded dolls. Some were burned beyond recognition, charred and blackened. Others had been torn apart, their limbs and faces frozen in the agony of their final moments. Blood soaked the ground, pooling beneath rubble and dripping from scorched wood beams.


    Erick¡¯s mind raced as his chest tightened with panic. Why am I here? The thought pounded in his skull, his terror spiraling out of control. He couldn¡¯t remember. The last thing he remembered was¡­ was¡­ What was I doing? Wasn¡¯t I in the office?


    ¡°What is this?¡± Erick choked out, his voice shaking. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t do anything. I don¡¯t¡ª¡± His voice broke as his breath hitched, his throat tightening. ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m here!¡±


    Mortem tilted his head again, unmoved by Erick¡¯s pleas. ¡°Time to see,¡± he rasped, as though Erick¡¯s confusion didn¡¯t matter. Slowly, he raised his free hand, palm open. Nestled within his clawed fingers was a small, pulsating black sphere¡ªa Chaos Core.


    The orb rippled faintly, its surface shifting like liquid shadow. It radiated an oppressive energy, cold yet burning, like chaos given form.


    Erick¡¯s heart froze at the sight of it, dread flooding his mind with an instinctive terror. Whatever this thing was, it wasn¡¯t meant to exist.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°This is a core,¡± Mortem said, his tone almost reverent. ¡°Although artificial¡­ it will make you better.¡±


    Erick shook his head weakly, his voice trembling as he gasped out, ¡°No¡­ don¡¯t. Please¡­¡±


    Mortem¡¯s jagged lips twisted into a sneer. ¡°You will take it,¡± he said simply.


    Before Erick could scream or object¡ªbefore he could even comprehend what was happening¡ªMortem rammed the black sphere into his mouth. He forced it past Erick¡¯s lips, his massive hand shoving it down the boy¡¯s throat with horrifying ease.


    Erick gagged violently, choking as the orb slid deeper. Its surface burned as it moved, scraping like molten metal against the walls of his throat. When it finally settled deep inside his chest, an unbearable heat erupted, spreading through his body like wildfire.


    His body convulsed violently, his veins bulging and darkening as chaotic aether began to spread through his bloodstream. Erick¡¯s screams turned guttural¡ªhalf-human, half-something else¡ªas the Chaos Core took root within him.


    The scarred man crossed his arms, his sharp gaze flicking between Mortem and Erick. ¡°You¡¯d better hope this one survives,¡± he said coldly. ¡°If the boy dies and the core fails, the master will have your head.¡±


    Mortem ignored him. His massive hand shifted again. Without hesitation, he drove his skeletal fingers directly into Erick¡¯s midsection.


    Erick¡¯s scream tore through the ruins, raw and filled with pure agony. Mortem¡¯s fingers tore through flesh and bone with horrifying ease, a wet crunch accompanying the movement as blood poured from Erick¡¯s body in torrents.


    Mortem tilted his head, his claws flexing inside Erick¡¯s abdomen as though searching for something. ¡°Yes¡­¡± he rasped, his voice tinged with grim ecstasy. ¡°The core awakens. Let Mortem see how strong it makes you.¡±


    Erick¡¯s convulsions continued as the Chaos Core reacted violently to Mortem¡¯s intrusion. Tendrils of black energy radiated outward from the wound, sliding through Erick¡¯s veins like writhing worms. His flesh twitched and rippled unnaturally, as though something beneath the surface was struggling to break free.


    The regeneration began slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. A faint ripple beneath Erick¡¯s torn skin. Then, with a sickening lurch, the edges of the wound began to close¡ªwhile Mortem¡¯s hand was still inside him. Muscle twitched and writhed, glowing faintly with the dark energy of the core, reconnecting itself with eerie precision.


    Blood that had spilled out moments ago began to reverse its course, creeping back into Erick¡¯s body like scarlet threads pulled by an unseen hand.


    Erick¡¯s screams rose again as his shattered ribs began to realign themselves with a series of loud cracks. The sound of grinding bone filled the air as his body forced itself to heal, no matter how agonizing the process.


    Mortem finally withdrew his claws with a wet squelch, watching intently as the wound sealed itself completely. Erick¡¯s body convulsed once more before going limp, his bloodstained chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths.


    The scarred man raised an eyebrow, his arms still crossed. ¡°He survived,¡± he muttered begrudgingly.


    Mortem tilted his head, his hollow eyes fixed on Erick¡¯s unconscious form. ¡°Strong,¡± he hissed. ¡°The core is strong in this one.¡±


    ¡°Strong or not, we need to move,¡± the scarred man snapped, his tone cold. ¡°You¡¯ve wasted enough time here. The Empire will have noticed this mess you made, and the master will want him delivered.¡±


    Mortem grunted in agreement before hoisting Erick¡¯s limp body onto his massive shoulders. The boy¡¯s head lolled to one side, his pale face streaked with blood and sweat.


    As they turned to leave, the scarred man suddenly froze, his dark eyes narrowing as though sensing something. He stared into the distance, his expression shifting to one of shock¡ªor fear.


    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± the scarred man whispered, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°We were too slow, Mortem. The Empire¡¯s hounds are already here.¡±

 Ash and lightning

    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± the scarred man muttered, his voice sharp and low. His dark eyes flicked toward the distance, though they seemed to focus on nothing. His grip tightened on the hilt of his black blade. ¡°We were too slow, Mortem.¡±


    Mortem tilted his head, the stitches binding his patchwork flesh cracking audibly. His eyes gleamed faintly with anticipation as his deformed lips curled into a sneer. ¡°Good. Mortem likes prey that comes to Mortem.¡±


    Through the haze of ash and smoke clinging to the ruined village, two figures emerged. The first was like a storm god. His storm-gray armor, etched with jagged, glowing runes, crackled faintly with lightning that danced across his giant, broad form. His helmet, forged from blackened metal, revealed dog-like yellow eyes beneath the open visor. On the giant¡¯s shoulder rested a colossal hybrid weapon¡ªStormbreaker. The hammer edge sparked faintly, while the axe blade shimmered with a cold, lethal gleam.


    Beside him strode an agile figure, his silver, lightweight armor bearing intricate lightning runes of its own. Unlike his companion, he wore no helmet, leaving sharp features visible under tousled dark hair. His expression was tense as he scanned the carnage ahead. A massive quiver of harpoon-sized arrows weighed heavily on his back, and in his hands, he carried a longbow humming faintly with aether.


    Kael stopped midstride, his sharp eyes taking in the devastation. The bodies. The torn limbs. The dark stains splattered across rubble that still smoldered. His breath hitched, but his voice came low and controlled: ¡°By Fulgur,¡± he muttered. ¡°They didn¡¯t just kill them. They tore them apart.¡±


    Ragnar¡¯s yellow eyes darkened as he surveyed the ruins. He didn¡¯t speak at first, but the tightening of his grip on Stormbreaker said enough.


    Kael¡¯s gaze flicked to the aberrants standing further down the village square amidst the ruins. Erick¡¯s pale body hung limply in Mortem¡¯s clawed hand, head lolling to one side.


    ¡°Those things did all this?¡± Kael muttered.


    ¡°Likely,¡± Ragnar replied flatly. His voice held no emotion.


    The scarred man stepped forward, his blade resting lazily on his shoulder. A mocking grin spread across his marred face. ¡°Ragnar Falkir,¡± he sneered, voice dripping with disdain. ¡°The Paragon¡¯s hunting dog. And what did you bring? One archer? No legion? Not even a Martial Vanguard squad? What¡¯s the plan here, Falkir? The two of you, against us?¡±


    Kael adjusted the quiver on his back, throwing Ragnar a sharp look. ¡°No reinforcements, boss? I kept asking. But nope, Ragnar doesn¡¯t answer me.¡± He gestured to his arrows. ¡°You know how much the Aegis charges me for one of these? Or how hard it is to lug this bloody quiver around? Or¡ª¡±


    Ragnar silenced him with a glare. ¡°We didn¡¯t know what we were walking into. I don¡¯t waste lives. My orders were to investigate.¡±


    Kael snorted. ¡°Right. Investigation. Sounds great, until you drag me into this mess.¡± His tone turned grim as he eyed Mortem. ¡°That thing¡¯s a thrall, isn¡¯t it? Look at the stitching¡ªchaos work. Nothing natural about it.¡±


    Mortem suddenly hurled Erick¡¯s limp body to the side like a discarded toy. The boy crashed into a pile of rubble, stirring up a cloud of dust.


    Kael stiffened, eyes darting toward Erick.


    ¡°Kael, move!¡± Ragnar barked, stepping forward to intercept Mortem.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Kael blurred into motion, feet pounding against the cracked cobblestones. Mortem growled low in his throat, swiping at him with massive claws, but Kael twisted midstride, sliding beneath the strike.


    In one fluid motion, Kael scooped Erick up, pivoted on his heel, and sprinted toward a wooden watchtower at the edge of the square.


    ¡°Mortem!¡± the scarred man shouted. ¡°Stop him!¡±


    Kael didn¡¯t slow. He hit the brittle wooden ladder and climbed, the tower groaning under his weight. At the top, he laid Erick down and scanned the battlefield below.


    Ragnar met Mortem head-on, Stormbreaker colliding with the abomination¡¯s clawed hand in a deafening clash. The impact released a shockwave, shattering what little ground remained between them.


    Mortem snarled, his patchwork arms lashing out. Ragnar sidestepped, deflecting one strike with the axe blade of Stormbreaker and slamming the hammer edge down onto Mortem¡¯s shoulder. Bone cracked, and black blood sprayed across the ground.


    ¡°Slow,¡± Ragnar muttered, his tone sharp with disdain. ¡°Predictable.¡±


    High above, Kael steadied himself on the creaking platform. Erick¡¯s chest rose and fell shallowly, his face streaked with blood and grime.


    Kael nocked his first arrow, channeling aether into the massive projectile as he drew the bowstring back. His sharp gaze locked onto Mortem below. ¡°Alright, big guy. Let¡¯s see if you can take this.¡±


    The arrow streaked through the air, slamming into Mortem¡¯s chest with a deafening crack. The impact ripped through his patchwork body, leaving a gaping hole where flesh had once been.


    Mortem staggered, roaring in pain.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Kael roared.


    But his triumph was short-lived. Black tendrils of chaotic energy crawled across Mortem¡¯s body, stitching the wound closed within seconds.


    Kael cursed under his breath. Of course it regenerates.¡±


    He fired again, and again, each arrow tearing chunks from Mortem¡¯s body. But no matter how devastating the blow, the black tendrils repaired the damage as if nothing had happened.


    ¡°Ragnar!¡± Kael shouted, his voice strained. ¡°This thing isn¡¯t going down easy!¡±


    Below, Ragnar didn¡¯t glance up. ¡°Then find its weakness.¡±


    Kael¡¯s sharp eyes scanned Mortem, crackling faintly with aether as he activated his skill. Faint pulses of chaotic energy radiated from beneath Mortem¡¯s chest.


    ¡°There,¡± Kael muttered. He nocked his final arrow, pouring the last of his aether into the projectile. The glowing shaft hummed with power.


    The arrow left the bow with a loud boom, streaking through the air and shattering Mortem¡¯s chest. The chaos core, exposed and pulsing, shone like a dark star.


    ¡°I¡¯ve done my part!¡± Kael shouted. ¡°Ragnar, finish it!¡±


    Ragnar surged forward, lightning crackling around his armor. Mortem sprouted two more patchwork arms, swinging all four wildly in desperation.


    Ragnar smirked coldly. ¡°Should¡¯ve done that earlier.¡±


    In one fluid motion, he leapt, bringing Stormbreaker down in an arc of thunder and light. The hammer smashed through Mortem¡¯s arms and crushed the chaos core in an explosion of power.


    Mortem howled, his voice fading as his massive body crumbled into ash.


    The scarred man¡ªsnarled, his black eyes blazing. He sprinted toward the watchtower, moving like a shadow, his intent clear.


    Kael saw him coming. ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t,¡± he muttered.


    Despite his exhaustion, Kael grabbed Erick and leapt from the watchtower. He hit the ground in a roll, Erick cradled against his chest, coming to a stop near Ragnar.


    The man paused, his cold grin returning. ¡°We¡¯ll meet again, Falkir.¡± His body began dissolving into black mist. ¡°Next time, you won¡¯t be so lucky.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll be waiting,¡± Ragnar growled.


    Kael groaned, brushing off dust. ¡°This kid better have answers.¡± His voice turned wry. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ve got to find all those bloody arrows. Do you know how expensive they are?¡±


    Ragnar ignored him, his sharp eyes on Erick. Suddenly, his expression tightened.


    ¡°Thrakk,¡± Ragnar muttered. ¡°It¡¯s a chaos core.¡±


    Kael froze, disbelief flashing across his face. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ragnar said, already lifting the boy over his shoulder. ¡°We need to move. Now.¡±


    Kael grabbed his quiver and followed, muttering as they disappeared into the haze. ¡°Bloody chaos cores. Bloody missions. Bloody everything.¡±

 The Citadel

    Erick stirred briefly from the dark void of unconsciousness, his body wracked with searing pain. His first sensation was motion¡ªrapid and jarring. His eyes fluttered open, though even that small effort felt like dragging himself through molten iron.


    The world around him was a blur of movement and color. Cold wind whipped against his face, and the faint metallic tang of blood mingled with the sharp crackle of ozone. His body was being carried, cradled against the chest of someone¡ªor something¡ªthat moved impossibly fast.


    Through the haze, Erick caught a fleeting glimpse of the figure carrying him. Storm-gray armor etched with jagged lightning marks that glowed faintly, pulsing with energy. The man moved like a force of nature, his strides blurring the desolate landscape into streaks of gray and black.


    An armored giant? Erick¡¯s sluggish mind tried to process the information.


    The man¡¯s yellow, lupine eyes flicked down briefly, meeting Erick¡¯s gaze. They were cold, detached, neither cruel nor kind, but calculating¡ªlike a predator assessing its prey. Erick tried to speak, to ask something, anything, but the words wouldn¡¯t come.


    A sudden, searing pain surged through his chest, and Erick gasped, his body convulsing weakly. Deep within, he felt something strange¡ªforeign, alive, and pulsing like a second heartbeat. He tried to lift a hand, but his limbs wouldn¡¯t obey. His vision swam, then darkened as the pain consumed him once more.


    And then, there was nothing.


    The Citadel


    When Erick awoke again, the world had changed. No longer was he surrounded by motion, cold, or blood; instead, there was warmth¡ªa soft bed beneath him, the faint scent of lavender and cedar in the air.


    Groaning, Erick forced his eyes open. Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating an opulent room. The high ceiling was carved from pale stone, gilded with intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer in the golden light. Banners adorned the walls, emblazoned with the crest of a blazing golden sun encircled by a silver laurel wreath.


    His body felt heavy, but the sharp pain from before had dulled to a faint ache. Erick shifted slightly, wincing as he raised his hand to his chest. His fingers trembled as he pulled back the tunic he now wore, his gaze locking onto his bare skin.


    There was nothing. No wound, no scar, no sign of the injury he knew he¡¯d sustained. His chest was unblemished, smooth, as if the clawed hand that had pierced his body had never touched him.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°How?¡± Erick whispered hoarsely. His voice cracked, unfamiliar to his ears.


    He frowned, a chill creeping up his spine. Something wasn¡¯t right¡ªnot just the lack of scars, but his body itself. His hands were smaller, his arms thinner, the muscle mass he had once prided himself on reduced to almost nothing. He reached up to touch his face, his fingers tracing unfamiliar angles and smoother skin.


    This wasn¡¯t his body.


    Panic surged through him, his thoughts spinning out of control. Erick clenched his fists, his breathing quickening as memories flashed through his mind¡ªhis life on Earth, his old job, the monotony of city life. But those memories felt distant now, like echoes of a world that no longer existed.


    He swallowed hard, his voice shaking as he muttered, ¡°What¡­ is this? What¡¯s happening to me?¡±


    Before he could unravel his thoughts further, the sound of a door creaking open snapped him out of his spiral. Erick¡¯s head shot up, his eyes locking onto the figure entering the room.


    The man was clad in black and gold armor, the pauldrons shaped like roaring dragons. His stern face, framed by dark hair streaked with silver, exuded authority. His piercing gray eyes settled on Erick with an intensity that made his skin prickle.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± the man said, his voice calm but firm.


    Erick struggled to sit up, his movements sluggish and unsteady. ¡°Where am I?¡± he rasped, his throat dry and raw.


    ¡°You are in the Citadel of House Hill Saint,¡± the man replied evenly. ¡°In the heart of the Etherean Empire. You were found in the ruins of a village near the southern zone. The Grand Knight Ragnar Falkir brought you here.¡±


    The name Ragnar sent a shiver through Erick. He remembered the towering figure who had carried him, the inhuman eyes that had regarded him so coldly. And the village¡ªthe blood and the bodies, the grotesque figures. Erick clenched his fists, his chest tightening.


    ¡°The village¡­¡± he whispered, his voice cracking. ¡°They¡¯re all gone. Everyone¡­ they¡¯re all dead.¡±


    The man¡¯s expression hardened, though his voice remained steady. ¡°Yes. The village was lost. But you survived, and that is no small feat. The Grand Knight believes there is more to you than meets the eye.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Erick asked, his voice trembling. ¡°Why did he save me?¡±


    The man stepped closer, his heavy armor clinking faintly. ¡°Chaos does not touch the ordinary without purpose,¡± he said. ¡°The Grand Knight suspects you are connected to what happened there.¡±


    Erick felt a strange warmth pulse faintly in his chest, the same alien sensation he¡¯d felt before. He pressed a hand to his chest, his brow furrowing as he whispered, ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    The man¡¯s gaze was unyielding. ¡°Rest for now. The Paragon is meeting with the Grand Knight, but he will return soon. He has questions for you, and you will answer them. Until then, you are under the protection of House Hill Saint.¡±


    Without waiting for a response, the man turned and strode out of the room, his presence as heavy as his departure was abrupt.


    Left alone, Erick slumped back against the pillows, his hand still pressed to his chest. The faint, rhythmic pulse beneath his palm felt too real to ignore, a reminder of how much his world had changed.


    ¡°What am I doing here?¡± he whispered into the stillness. His voice quavered, filled with confusion.


    But the question that truly haunted him, the one he couldn¡¯t bring himself to say aloud, echoed in his mind: Who am I now?