Extra Borne: Transmigrated Into A System Apocalypse Soulsborne Novel-Chapter 56 - 54: Something Blocked It

The blast should have annihilated us. The void’s energy surged with unrelenting force, a tidal wave of destruction that devoured everything in its path. My instincts screamed, my body tensed, but before the inevitable end could consume us...

Something blocked it.

For a moment, my vision faltered. A sharp, disorienting blur overtook my senses as if the world itself recoiled from what had occurred. Then clarity returned, and I saw it... an aura of ash-dark energy. It swirled in calm waves around Geralda, moving with a grace and purpose, that was almost hypnotic. It wasn’t wild or frantic. Instead, it exuded quiet lethality, like the still edge of a blade waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The void’s power dissipated against that aura, its wrath absorbed without fanfare, leaving only the faint hum of residual energy in the air.

The ash-dark tendrils curled back toward Geralda, retreating into her as though drawn to their master.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice calm and steady, her eyes fixed on me as if we weren’t standing at the edge of annihilation.

I opened my mouth but found myself momentarily speechless. My mind struggled to reconcile what had just happened, yet I forced myself to respond. "Yeah," I muttered, keeping my voice neutral, though I couldn’t quite smother the edge of disbelief beneath the surface.

Altronotch stood unmoving, the weight of his presence pressing against the air like a physical force. His armor, blacker than the void itself, seemed to consume all light, leaving no reflection, no glimmer of humanity beneath its surface. Slowly, he inclined his head toward Geralda, and when he spoke, his voice reverberated with a hollow timbre that seemed to resonate in my very bones.

"What is a Fallen doing in a place like this?" His tone was measured, but the venom beneath his words was unmistakable. He paused, as if savoring the weight of his disdain, before continuing. "Have you no ounce of pride left in you?"

Each word hung in the air like a heavy chain, dragging the silence into something oppressive.

Geralda remained unfazed. Her expression was serene, her stance unwavering, as if his words were nothing more than leaves carried on the wind. The ash-dark energy around her stirred gently, echoing her calmness.

"What I choose is not for you to decide, warrior," she replied, her voice measured but firm, each word carrying a quiet authority that felt unshakable.

Altronotch’s grip on the Blade Of The Void tightened, the void energy surrounding him flaring ever so slightly. Slowly, he raised the massive weapon, pointing its jagged tip toward Geralda.

"Then let me do the honor of felling you once more," he declared. His words were sharp, cutting through the heavy air like a death sentence.

Above us, the ashen sky churned, its dark clouds shifting violently. The streaks of multicolored lightning froze, the crackling energy stilling as if bending to Altronotch’s will.

Geralda moved calmly, lowering her right hand toward the blood-soaked ground. Ash-dark energy began to condense, spiraling downward into a wormhole that rippled with an unnatural stillness. From its depths emerged a weapon...na blade that seemed to exist and not exist at the same time, a paradox made manifest.

[SYSTEM]

[SJIUR HAS BEEN SUMMONED]

The weapon, Sjiur, was a long blade shrouded in the same ash-dark chaos that surrounded Geralda. Its energy was calm and soothing, yet beneath the surface, I could sense an untamed storm waiting to be unleashed.

Geralda raised the blade, its edge shimmering faintly as she pointed it toward Altronotch. "A knight who knows not his place," she said, her voice sharply calm but deliberate, "must be chastened to remember it."

Her words carried a subtle, cutting mockery, a challenge wrapped in calm restraint. Altronotch’s pitch black void aura surged in response, flaring violently around him. Even the ashen clouds above churned in anger, reflecting his fury.

"0924," Geralda called softly, her voice drawing my attention.

I turned to her, her gaze steady and unflinching.

"When you attack, don’t aim for his body just yet," she instructed. "Wait for the right moment."

I blinked, her words catching me off guard. "I’m... also fighting him?" I asked, the surprise evident in my voice. I’d assumed this battle was hers alone.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, a subtle expression that felt strangely out of place in the tension-filled air. "Unless you’re afraid," she replied, her tone calm but with an unmistakable edge of challenge.

The remark stung, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. I didn’t bother answering, choosing instead to focus on the rising tension around us.

Silence fell once more, the oppressive weight of it nearly suffocating. The air reeked of blood and decay, the metallic stench mingling with the sharp tang of raw energy. It felt as though the world itself had stopped breathing, waiting for the inevitable clash.

Altronotch stood unmoving, his presence looming like a shadow that consumed all light. His focus was entirely on Geralda, his attention sharp and unyielding.

Above us, the multicolored lightning crackled faintly, then...

BOOM!

The heavens erupted in a deafening roar, the streaks of light splitting the sky with furious intensity.

And then it began.

In an instant, our figures blurred, the world around us reduced to a chaotic maelstrom of motion and sound.

Clang!

The sound of blades colliding reverberated through the air, a sharp, metallic cry that marked the beginning of the battle.

...

Altronotch’s Blade of the Void and Geralda’s Sjiur collided in a cacophony of power that mocked the very concept of order. Each clash birthed shockwaves, rippling across the blood-soaked mud, turning it into a mire of chaos.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

I remained a shadow, dematerialized into a swirling mist that drifted silently at the edges of the battlefield. My focus was razor-sharp, my senses attuned to the chaos around me as I waited for the perfect moment to strike.

Clang! Clang! Cling!

Their blades danced, moving at a speed no mortal eyes could track. The air itself seemed to split, torn by their relentless assault, and yet neither of them faltered. It was as though they were dueling in another dimension, a place where time and space bent to their will.

Altronotch lunged, thrusting his massive blade forward with devastating speed. The Blade of the Void surged with pitch-black energy, the very essence of annihilation.

Geralda stepped aside with an elegance that seemed almost dismissive, her movements fluid and unhurried. The thrust missed her by a hair’s breadth, yet the power behind it was far from wasted. The energy tore through the landscape behind her, carving a deep chasm into the earth. The ground trembled as if mourning its loss.

Kang!

Their weapons met again, and the force of their collision sent another devastating shockwave across the battlefield. The ground splintered, the air screamed, and yet Geralda remained unshaken.

She wasn’t fighting with all her strength... I could see it, feel it. Every movement she made was calm, calculated. It was as if she were waiting, holding back, her true power hidden beneath the calm exterior.

Altronotch, however, seemed less composed. His attacks, though precise, began to carry an edge of irritation. His voice, steady yet tinged with frustration, broke through the chaos.

"Fight me with all you have, O Fallen One," he demanded, his tone a sharp contrast to his earlier composure.

Geralda gave no response. Her silence was a blade of its own, cutting deeper than words ever could. Her Sjiur danced through the air, meeting and parrying every strike Altronotch delivered, the ash-dark energy swirling around her like a storm held at bay.

Altronotch’s pitch black void energy flared as his movements grew more aggressive. His calm was cracking, the irritation beneath the surface now seeping into his attacks. But Geralda remained poised, her focus unbroken.

With a measured breath, she lifted Sjiur, the long blade shimmering with the unsettling calm of ash-dark chaos. She slashed through the air... not with fury, but with purpose. The strike was silent, a whisper of death that seemed to tear through the very fabric of reality.

The air warped as the ash-dark slash traveled, its presence an anomaly that defied explanation. No sound accompanied it, no roar or scream of power.... only the quiet inevitability of destruction.

Altronotch’s gaze locked onto the incoming attack. Slowly, deliberately, he raised the Blade of the Void, the weapon’s edge pulsing with a pitch black void energy that seemed to hunger for annihilation. His voice rang out, a dirge that echoed like a funeral bell.

"<Eon... Trovotan.>"

The void energy surged to life, a burst of pure, unrelenting blackness that shot from the blade’s tip. It moved with a speed that defied comprehension, tearing through the battlefield toward Geralda’s attack.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The tension in the air was suffocating, every molecule trembling in anticipation of the clash to come.

And then...

BOOM!

The impact was cataclysmic. The collision of their powers tore a rift in space itself, the air fracturing like shattered glass. The shockwave that followed was deafening, a roar that drowned out all other sound and sent ripples of chaos through the battlefield.

But as the dust began to settle, something felt... wrong.

Altronotch staggered, his massive frame suddenly unsteady. His hand moved to his midsection, and there, black void liquid seeped from a wound... a substance that defied the natural order, neither blood nor ichor, but something far more alien.

His helmeted head turned sharply, his gaze locking onto a single point.

Me.

I materialized in the spot he had turned to, my Mist Sword already in hand. The blade glistened with the same void liquid that now dripped from his wound.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been stabbed.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

Nice...