1683-1684 eng

1683 Dark Deity

A Cursed Tyrant...

Nephis felt an unfamiliar emotion that she couldn't quite describe. Awe, perhaps? Or maybe hatred.

The pure flames of her soul roared, surging restlessly in the presence of the harrowing adversary.

Cursed Nightmare Creatures were... the epitome of terror. Each of them was equal to what a Sacred being would have been — not that there were any of those around. Nevertheless, Sacred beings held a special meaning for humanity.

That was because of what the steps of the Path of Ascension meant, at least as far as humans theorized.

If the Path of Ascension was the road to divinity, then each step brought those treading it closer to godhood. Transcendence was the step of breaking away from the limits of the mundane. Supremacy was the act of asserting one's power over the world, thus establishing the foundation of their future apotheosis.

But it was the next step, which no Awakened of their world had taken before, that signified truly attaining the qualities of the divine. A Sacred being was already a deity, albeit a lesser one.

The same could be said about a Cursed being. The Cursed Tyrant, Condemnation, could very well be called a deity. A profane deity of abyssal Corruption.

And so, in a sense...

Today was the first time Nephis would face a god in battle.

But not the last.

***

Time seemed to slow down as Condemnation rose from beneath the ruins. The gargantuan shape of the ancient fiend was still hidden behind the layers of collapsing soil and crumbling buildings, but it was already like a towering mountain. The quaking earth, the scale of it seemed more like a natural process than the movements of a living being.

Or rather, unnatural.

Witnessing the sleeping giant wake from its slumber, Nephis could finally guess how this ancient city had been destroyed, and why it had fallen despite the dire might of its defenders. The warriors that wielded the dreadful power of the sorcerous exosuits and the sublime diamond weapons, the asuras... had perished when the Cursed Tyrant descended upon their city like a cataclysm.

Even their impossible strength had not been enough to save this land, which was now a forgotten ruin. One of many similar ruins swallowed by the jungle.

Such was the caliber of enemies the civilization of Godgrave had faced before extinction.

It certainly made one wonder...

If the same fate awaited the civilization of the waking world — the last human civilization.

America had already been lost to the advent of a Category Five Gate, Antarctica to the Chain of Nightmares. Humans were migrating to the Dream Realm now... but what would happen if a Cursed Tyrant was attracted by the smell of human souls and attacked Bastion? Or Ravenheart?

How long would the Great Clans last if the true horrors of the Dream Realm abandoned the Death Zones to roam its vast expanse freely?

Safety... was an illusion.

The waking world was dying, but the Dream Realm was a death trap as well. Of that, Nephis was certain.

Which was why the Sovereigns had to be eliminated.

Not because they had killed her father. Not because they had sent assassins after her and turned her childhood into a cruel nightmare. Not because they had brought the Immortal Flame clan to ruin... although Nephis would lie if she said that none of that mattered.

It was not even because of the countless lives lost because of their schemes in Antarctica.

The reason... was that the Sovereigns were not up to the task. They were incompetent, strangling humanity's power in pursuit of misguided reasons. Ki Song, Anvil, Asterion — none of the three was wise enough, determined enough. And desperate enough.

Their achievements were great, and they might have thought that their cynical tyranny was for the greater good. But they were not someone who could defeat the Nightmare Spell.

That said, to have a chance to defeat them and bring about change...

Nephis had to survive the meeting with this Corrupted Tyrant first.

She gritted her teeth.

'There is no escape...'

A Cursed Tyrant was like a deity, and a deity could exert great power upon the world. The ruins of this ancient city were Condemnation's territory, and so, its will here was like a law here.

If it didn't want to let the two Saints leave, they wouldn't be able to leave. Nephis and the Lord of Shadows had already witnessed how space itself was preventing them from escaping into the jungle.

What other option was there?

If they couldn't escape, they had to fight. But defeating a Corrupted Tyrant in battle was not something either of them was capable of... even surviving a single attack by the profane being was questionable.

The gap was too great.

Nephis glanced at the Lord of Shadows and asked, her clear voice resounding in the roar of the quaking earth:

"That spatial Ability of yours... can you escape?"

He shook his head.

"Not this time."

'Not this time...'

It sounded as if this was not his first time encountering a Cursed Nightmare Creature.

Just what kind of life had he led?

Nephis took a deep breath.

...Or rather, he mimicked the familiar motions of taking a deep breath. The radiant spirit did not have lungs, after all, and neither needed nor was capable of breathing. It was simply a vessel containing a vast ocean of flame.

She had been prepared to unleash her full Transformation if things went south. However... the current situation was way worse than even her worst prediction. Even if she did allow the spirit form to dissolve, releasing the ocean of flame contained within its brilliant figure, she wouldn't be able to contend against the Cursed Tyrant.

'No other choice, then.'

Well... it couldn't be helped. She had managed to come closer than usual to fully saturating her soul cores this time around, already.

The important part was to make the sacrifice count.

Watching a vague figure reveal itself from beneath the mountain of flowing soil, Nephis glanced at the approaching asuras and said evenly:

"Hold back these creatures, then. I'll… create an opportunity for the two of us to escape."

Surrounded by radiant light, Nephis concentrated for a moment...

And reached into her incandescent soul.

1684 Pure Agony

They could not escape, but they also could not fight the Cursed Tyrant.

In that situation, the only way out Nephis saw was to create a momentary lapse in the Tyrant's concentration.

It was the abomination's profane will that was preventing them from reaching the jungle. If that will was weakened, even for a few moments, a path to freedom would be theirs to take.

Nephis had no hope of killing the evil deity, and no confidence to face it in a prolonged battle. However... she was pretty sure that she could at least hurt it.

She knew pain better than most. She knew how hard it was to keep calm and steady when your body and soul were being blackened by flame. How it felt to burn alive.

Anyone's will would be shaken by that agony.

But her adversary this time was a Cursed Tyrant. Not any flame would be able to hurt it, and her usual attacks were woefully insufficient.

So, she had to give it her all.

...Which required time.

The Lord of Shadows had to buy her that time.

As the pursuing asuras closed in on them, he glanced at her briefly.

Then, he sighed and let go of his black odachi.

The tenebrous sword fell to the ground, but rippled like liquid in the air. She thought that she saw a glimmer of serpentine scales.

A moment later, the odachi turned into a torrent of shadows, and then coalesced into a human form... that of a woman, both her clothes and skin perfectly black, her hair like a waterfall of silken darkness. She was standing with her back to Nephis, so her face was hidden from view. And yet, it felt like the mysterious woman was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

More than that... her presence was that of a Transcendent.

A moment ago, there were two Saints facing the Great Beasts.

Now, there were three.

Pulling another sword out of the darkness, the Lord of Shadows lunged at the ghastly asuras without wasting any time. The black woman followed, moving with dire speed and indescribable grace.

They clashed with the abominations a split second later.

Sadly, Nephis could not observe their battle.

She was reaching into her soul.

The blinding light emanated by her radiant figure grew even more intense, its heat more unbearable. The vines and moss covering the ruins around her turned to ash, revealing ancient stone structures. The weathered stone started to melt.

'It's going to hurt...'

Her goal was to cause the Cursed being pain, but to achieve it, she had to withstand her own share of agony.

As something too harrowing to witness and too appaling to see slowly revealed itself from beneath the collapsing soil, Nephis steeled her and ignited her soul.

It was different from summoning soul flame or activating her Abilities. What she was doing was a derivative skill of her Aspect, something she had always been capable of, but only truly learned how to do in Twilight.

Instead of merely burning soul essence, she was burning her very soul.

But, unlike the crude way she had done so in Twilight, Nephis was doing it in a much more refined and controlled manner now.

With each moment, her soul cores grew weaker, and her counter of soul fragments plummeted with dire speed. Each soul fragment she sacrificed turned into a torrent of immolating flame.

That incandescent inferno grew and grew, the terrifying power contained within it reaching a truly chilling scale.

Nephis could detonate a soul core to produce a tremendous explosion. But an explosion was a wild thing... it spread in all directions, annihilating everything in its path. Such a calamity could obliterate a vast number of enemies, both weak and strong.

To deal a wound to someone as strong as a Cursed Tyrant, however, such a dispersed tool of destruction was suited poorly. She needed something much more concentrated, targeted, and controlled.

Consumed by a harrowing agony, Nephis endured the feeling of her soul being burned to ash, and slowly raised a radiant hand.

In front of her, the Lord of Shadows and the mysterious Saint he had summoned were drowning in the tide of Great Beasts.

She concentrated deeply, and whispered several Names, shaping them into a verse. Channeling that verse put a terrible strain on her mind, her burning soul, and even her brilliant vessel.

The Name of the Fire to control the flames.

The Name of the wind to fan them.

These two were easier.

The other two...

Nephis trembled as she uttered a terrible word.

It was the Name of Destruction.

The Name of Destruction to greatly enhance the destructive force of her soul flame.

And finally, the last one...

Perhaps the most important one.

She smiled darkly.

"...Condemnation!"

The True Name of the Cursed deity, the hint to which had been so generously provided to her by the Spell.

To bind the devastating flame to the ancient fiend, and bind the fiend to the flame.

Names were a powerful thing.

And so, Nephis called flame and destruction upon the Tyrant, using her own soul as fuel.

In the next moment, a perfectly white ray of concentrated flame shot off her palm, connecting it to the terrible shape of the rising giant many kilometers away. Its arrival was instantaneous. Its passing burned the world itself, leaving a scar on it.

Even though it consisted of flame, it seemed like a ray of pure white light.

That light bit into the flesh of Condemnation, slicing it apart like a sharp blade. Terrible burns were left in its wake.

And just as Nephis was drowning in terrible agony...

The Cursed Tyrant convulsed, its mind pierced by unbearable pain.

An indescribable, deafening, harrowing sound shook the world. It was a sound that would drive a mundane person... no, even an Awakened, a Master, a weaker Saint... mad from simply hearing it.

Condemnation was screaming.

"R—run!"

Nephis swayed, her radiance dimming. Her Transformation was dismissed, and she once again turned into a human. The white tunic she had been wearing was singed and burned, barely holding in place.

'Right... I should summon the rest of my armor...'

But she was momentarily dazed, paying the price for burning away a part of her soul.

Nephis had told the Lord of Shadows to run, but found herself unable to follow her own advice.

Before she could do anything, though, two strong arms grabbed her. Raising her unceremoniously, he dashed away without saying a word. The onyx surface of his armor was smooth and cool to the touch.

'Am... am I... being carried?'

She was stunned.

When had something like that ever happened to her?

"Grab a hold of yourself, princess!"

Despite the situation, his voice sounded as cold and arrogant as always. Maybe even a little colder than usual.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then summoned the rest of her armor.

By the time it weaved itself from sparks of light, the Lord of Shadows let go of her, and they ran toward the edge of the ruins together.

The echoes of the Cursed Tyrant's pained howl were still traveling across the Hollows when they escaped into the jungle, leaving the forgotten city behind.

Just like that, their one-on-one expedition into the Hollows was over.

***

A few hours later, Nephis was sitting on the steps of the Nameless Temple.

The world... was mercilessly stark, black and white, with no place left for feeling or compromise.

As it always happened after she overused her Aspect, her emotions were dampened and weak, almost gone. Her heart was cold.

Or maybe it was so impossibly scorching that it felt cold.

She was tired, but couldn't feel the tiredness.

One could not remember pain, but remembering having suffered pain was all too easy.

Raising a hand, she allowed a soft radiance to ignite under her skin and stared at it silently.

'It still hurts.'

Good. That was good. Nephis knew that she had not truly lost herself as long as she could still feel the pain, and fear it.

She sighed.

It was time to return.

The Fire Keepers had already gathered in front of her, ready to depart. The three Sleepers were also there, looking around with awe and amazement. Even Tamar, the Legacy girl, was subdued by the solemn atmosphere of the dark temple.

The master of the temple, meanwhile, had not come to see them off. Only his Echo was watching.

The Lord of Shadows...

Such a mysterious man.

Nephis tilted her head a little, remembering how he behaved in the forgotten ruin. Not during the battle... but before it.

Surprisingly enough, the cold warrior seemed to have a lot of interest in history, almost like an explorer. That was a side of him she had not seen before.

Which was understandable, considering that they didn't know each other too well.

However...

At that moment, her indifferent eyes glinted slightly.

She thought back to their first meeting, when he challenged her to a duel.

The style he used once belonged to her family — naturally, Nephis had asked the Lord of Shadows who taught that style to him.

And what had he answered?

Her lips parted.

"...Nobody."