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Published at 8th of May 2023 08:30:33 AM


Chapter 115

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“It’s over,” Noele whispered as she stared into the distance.

The purple sky faded away, and the clouds dispersed to reveal the moon and the stars overhead. She no longer sensed the overwhelming aura of the Void. The air was clear— she could breathe easily now without the pressure bearing down on her shoulders.

“She really did it, huh?” Garron said softly.

Saros scoffed and crossed his arms. “She should have done this right from the start— what was the point in letting us run around like idiots if she could have stopped the Lich King before he even left Arelioth’s Pass? We wasted our damn time…”

Noele glanced towards her two companions. Her eyes flickered, and she lowered her head. 

“But that’s the point,” she said simply. “If we rely on Amelia’s help too much, we won’t be able to achieve anything on our own. We have to stand on our own legs and deal with our problems ourselves.”

“Well, we didn’t do shit on our own.” The gnome rolled his eyes. “All we did was get our asses kicked, before she bailed us out.”

The blonde girl looked back up to face him. He didn’t meet her gaze. He harrumphed and looked away with a scowl on his face. She swept her gaze past him, eyeing the undulating mountaintops in the distance that masked the battle that had taken place beyond. 

“This time, Amelia saved us. But what happens if she’s not there the next time around?”

It was a simple question. It was posited not just to the gnome, but to all of them. However, the three adventurers gathered here knew the answer, even as none of them said a word.

 

—--

 

But it wasn’t over. Not just yet. 

Even as the Seal of the System took hold of the Fledgling God Vessel, the battle hadn’t come to an end. The Voidgod’s influence rapidly faded away as the wisping purple aura dissipated. The rift began to close, sewn shut by the crimson threads of a divine power. 

The transformed Lich King was drowning in a world of pain. Ar’elith screamed, and it was not just his voice that cried out. The Fal-Deus joined him. It screamed— but not just in agony. It also screamed in anger.

Its control over his body began to fade. The bone-like wings broke apart, and the purple flesh clinging onto his bones melted away. His legs grew numb as he felt like his lower body was evaporating into a simmering mist. It was too much to endure— a searing, stinging pain.

And yet, even though Ar’elith was being physically ripped apart, he found relief elsewhere. Somewhere deep inside of his soul… 

Arthur jerked his head up, blinking his eyes open. 

He hadn’t been able to move. He couldn’t even breathe. He had been held in place by a thousand limbs— drowned in a sea of darkness. But now, he inhaled deeply. He could finally see again. He could finally feel once more.

Arthur craned his neck to see the dark tendrils pinning him slowly recede back into the floor. He wiggled back, pulling himself out of the remainder of the loose bindings. He clambered to his feet, panting heavily as he rubbed his neck.

There were no visible marks on his skin. Even as he felt the phantom grip of the darkness cling onto his body. He knew he was free. And he sighed in relief.

“I… am free,” he started as he rose to his feet. He swept his gaze over his surroundings, and the darkness was replaced by a crimson light. Runes and symbols which he didn’t comprehend began to fill the dome overhead. He felt the warmth of the World System return to him as he smiled. “I—” 

And a voice boomed around him.

“Forsaken by my people, exiled from my world. My creations turned against me. But I shall live on.”

Arthur spun around to see a purple sphere glowing in the darkness. It was the eye of the Void— the source of the power bestowed upon him. It hovered there like a tear in space. Its form was distorted. Its light was flickering. But it didn’t fade away. Not just yet.

“Cast back into my prison— hidden beneath this plane. An eternity awaits me…” 

The voice began to fade as Arthur took a step forward. He approached the eye, holding a hand out to the twisting space. But it shrank into nothingness, leaving behind ribbons and motes of its essence as its words echoed around him.

“So I shall return to reclaim what’s mine, one day.”

He stared at the empty space. He lowered his hand as the crimson glow surrounding him began to dim. The magical symbols lost their light, and he looked back down at himself. He stared at the palm of his open hand.

“I feel— empty…” 

It was a simple remark. But Arthur spoke from the heart. He was just tired. Like he had been drained of all emotions. All he felt was a sense of relief, but even that was fleeting. 

He wobbled where he stood. The adrenaline of being freed quickly left his body, and he was left standing in a daze. He tried to steel himself— but he couldn’t even clench a fist. It was an odd sensation.

Arthur felt like something had left his body. Like the Void had stolen a piece of his soul as it was banished.

And now, he wondered what he was going to do. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He weakly looked up, seeing a glint in the distance. He saw a… screen. A moving image floated right before him. He narrowed his eyes as he remembered.

“...right, I was trying to escape,” he murmured to himself.

He stumbled forward with barely enough strength to hold himself up. But as he approached the screen, he saw the night sky overhead. A sable dome. A blank canvas. And he paused.

Arthur watched as a pair of figures entered the view of the image, before he slowly lowered his head. He didn’t know what was wrong. He didn’t know what had happened. But he didn’t want to pass through back into reality. 

He didn’t want to go back to the real world.

Why should he? There was nothing for him there. He had nothing left. Not as Arthur, and not as Ar’elith. His loved ones, his ambitions, and his life— they were all gone. 

He had already died once before. Now, he just wanted to rest in peace.

Arthur sighed as he dropped to his knees. He stared at the gray ground beneath him— he didn’t move. He didn’t approach the screen. He had no reason to get up and continue. He had no reason to live. 

“I…” He opened his mouth.

And there was a flash of light. Arthur blinked, looking up as the screen began to expand. The image of the real world grew brighter. It began to merge with the walls of the room surrounding him, drawing closer as he could only stare. 

He got back to his feet as he tried to back away. But reality consumed him, and his vision was engulfed by a white light for a moment…

 

—--

 

And Ar’elith opened his eyes.

Once again, he woke up. But this time, he was no longer in his soul. He was back in the real world— he had been forcefully returned to reality, freed from the bindings placed on his soul. And the Lich King groaned as he raised a hand.

“I’m alive…?” he asked himself.

Then he paused. Ar’elith stared with wide eyes as he looked at the back of his hand. He was no longer covered by the purple flesh of the Void. But that was not surprising. He had expected to return back to his ordinary self. So he thought he would come face to face with the pale ivory of his bones.

However, instead, he only saw flesh.

Human flesh. Calloused and tanned, but still the skin of a human. He narrowed his eyes as he sat up, before he felt a gust of wind sweep over him. And his golden locks blew behind him.

He had hair. He had eyes. He felt the cuts on his skin, and he could feel the coldness of the night breeze. 

Ar’elith took a good look at himself. And he realized— he was not Ar’elith any longer. He was not the Lich King who had threatened the world over. 

He was Arthur. He was the [Priest] who had lost his family to a deadly plague. He was a mortal again.

He rubbed his head as he tried to process what had happened. But before he could piece together anything, there was a flash of red light. He recoiled as the World System spoke to him.

[SYSTEM ERROR:

CLASS AND TITLES REVOKED!

YOU HAVE BEEN REMOVED FROM THE WORLD SYSTEM!

Reason: You have become a vessel for the Void.]

“What…?” Arthur squinted at the screen, utterly perplexed. 

And right as he read those words, he heard the rustling of footsteps approaching him from behind. He spun around, facing a winged figure with twelve eyes. He recognized it immediately.

“You’re—” he started.

But the angel wouldn’t let him finish. It raised a lance as it spoke in a monotonous voice. Destroying the Fledgling God Vessel.

Arthur recoiled as he heard those words echoing in his mind. He raised a hand, eyes growing wide. But the angel just swung down—

And Amelia caught the attack with a single finger. She held the angel’s gaze, shaking her head as Arthur just looked on.

“I’m not going to let you do that,” she said simply.

 

MelasD

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