The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 754: Into the Fray

Skorrish’s grip on his spear tightened. He struck a fighting stance.

"You can threaten me, but your power is futile against me. The worst that happens is I end up Rash’alon, a fragment of my soul destroyed," it snarled.

Arantius shrugged. "Perhaps, but then again, perhaps not. The Oracle’s power was raw and unrefined. She was but a child picking at a few stray threads in the tapestry of fate. An act of desperation, more than anything."

"You’re bluffing," Skorrish said.

He lunged forward, spear tip exuding a malefic darkness. Arantius parried the attack, knocking the spear to the side. Skorrish’s force carried him off balance, but the remnant let him regain his feet, frowning at him.

"Your avatar is weak. You descended too early, didn’t you?" Arantius’s tone was filled with disapproval. "What could have been so important that you would have...Ah, I see." His eyes narrowed. "You wanted her that badly? Would it have killed you to give her a few more months of peace?"

"A divinity in mortal hands," Skollish spat. "That kind of opportunity only presents itself once."

The weight of his words settled in my heart, filling me with unease. I got the feeling he wasn’t exaggerating, but for a demon to say something like that...only once?

Fate patted my head reassuringly. "Everything that’s ever happened never happened before it happened once."

"I...don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean," I groaned, rubbing my horn. My head hurt just trying to piece together what that even meant, never mind the implications of such a sentence. "Couldn’t you just say ’there’s a first time for everything?’"

She blinked, tilting her head. "There are some things that simply haven’t, aren’t, and won’t occur. I may not be bound by the rules of the Divine any longer, but I hold to their tenets. It isn’t becoming of a goddess to lie, even about such trivial matters. Otherwise, who could I expect you to trust me?"

The demons exchanged a few more blows. Arantiu’s drooped a little more with each one, his expression growing bored. Without warning, he slipped through fate, appearing behind Scorrish. The demon wheeled about, spear raised, but it was already too late. A golden cut traced through its soul.

Its eyes lit up in absolute terror, but before it could scream, the demon’s soul imploded. Arantius sheathed his sword, turning to Gathrin.

"Watch the gate. Have Have notify me if any other demons enter."

Gathrin saluted. "As you command."

Arantius’s eyes slid over Gathrin’s shoulder to where our perspective lay. He bowed slightly and vanished again. I waited for him to reappear, or perhaps teleport into the cathedral, but after a few tense seconds, it was clear he was gone. Fate waved her hand, dismissing the ripple.

"See? Nothing to worry about," she said. Then, raising a finger, "That’s too many questions you’re thinking about, and we have too little time. You may ask me one now, and the rest when you visit again."

I froze with my mouth half open already, and blushed furiously. "S-sorry. I guess, if I just have one...what did Arantius do? He said it was like what I did, but it felt so different."

She nodded. "It didn’t leave gaping holes in fate, did it. As you might have gathered by now, Arantius is something of a special existence among the remnants. He was my first hero, chosen in a time even I dimly recall. I was young and foolish then, barely a deity myself, and still experimenting with what fate even was. At the time, I was fascinated with the nothingness beyond the pattern. Oblivion, I named it, though I doubt few among the gods remember. It’s not so much a place as a concept that can only be comprehended and applied through manipulating the most fundamental aspects of fate itself. I’ll spare you the lecture beyond that, when the fabric of fate is damaged, Oblivion occurs. And where Oblivion touches, nothing else can exist. What you say when Haven fell was the process of a realm being devoured by Oblivion."

"And when I did it to Gayron, and...Rash’alon?"

She sighed. "The Apostle of Fire was fortunate that his ability worked differently from the demon lord’s avatars. His is merely a projection of a soul; thus, losing it was more of a shock to his system than direct exposure to Oblivion. As for Rash’alon? It was only your inexperience and the rather crude method you used that allowed for his continuation at all. You effectively tore his soul in half. It’s miraculous he maintained enough of his power and identity to have coherent thoughts, much less lead a Descent of this scale."

I started to ask another question, but she quieted me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Go, now, child. There is one who needs your light right now."

Haven appeared, taking me by the hand. I looked over my shoulder at Fate, who gave me an encouraging smile.

"Remember, you decided to trust him. If you truly wish this, there can be no half measures. All in, or all out," she said.

"I’ll try," I said, "And thank you. I was so scared..."

"And you will be again. It’s in those moments you must remember to rely on us." She grinned. "Just, next time, try not to invite a demon lord into our realm." freёweɓnovel.com

"Come, my lady. I sense a great disturbance in the gate," Haven said.

The journey back to the entrance island was swift. Gathrin stood guard before the gate, saluting sharply as we passed. I wanted to say hi, maybe even give him a hug, but a sense of urgency tugged me past him with only a wave. Haven let go of my hand, giving me a gentle, guiding nudge into the gate.

There was a flash of warmth as the golden swirl enveloped me, but all too soon, I was stumbling back into Enusia. The oppressive isolation barrier smashed against my body and soul, driving my breath out. I gasped, putting a hand to my head as the oily power placed a dull ache between my horns.

A shockwave slammed and knocked me off my feet. I spun through the air, a thousand needles stabbing into my side. Landing knocked the wind from my lungs yet again, and I spat a glob of blood.

I struggled to my knees, wiping blood from my lips. The left side of my body was ripped and raw, rubbed with grit and stinging in the air. I tried to draw on my mana, but the barrier forced it back down, only falling off as it reached the depths Adaptive Resistance hid. It was all I could do to summon my staff and close the gate, cutting Haven off from Enusia.

Luke and Rash’alon dueled at the edge of the barrier, swords clashing in a blur of black sparks and magical techniques. Neither had time for spells. Their attacks were vicious with hatred, releasing shockwaves that tore at my hair and clothes and unsettled my insides. Luke’s face was white with pain, his body covered in shallow cuts, and his chest radiated corruption, but his eyes burned with determination. Rash’alon seemed the same as always, his moves bearing a sort of grace stemming from unwavering confidence.

Battles raged past them, surrounding the isolation barrier. Borealis blotted out the sky in his monstrous form, tussling with several flying demons. A group of winged scions, like a swarm of locusts, attacked his exposed belly, but he did a barrel roll, knocking them from the sky with one of his titanic wings.

The small shape of Zephyriss darted around him, blasting evolved demons from the sky. She used his titanic wings as cover, giving her the room to put all of her power into offensive magic. They seemed like an unstoppable duo, but they were completely surrounded. Thousands of demons threw spells and techniques from the ground, and hundreds of winged demons clogged the skies, forming a wall of scales, feathers, and leathery skin between them and the barrier.

On the ground, I could make out flashes of mortal souls between those of the demons. There were many demonkin, just as enraged and hostile as the demons, but there were also beacons of power obliterating entire packs at once. There was Evla, and even a few glimpses of Jessia, though the latter was ghosted across the battlefield, targeting vulnerable mage-type demons with the same techniques Arantius employed. Luke’s horde had collapsed upon Rash’alon’s flank, slowly pushing toward us.

I took the entire scene in with a single glance, and my hopes fell. Our allies held the advantage, but it was clear it would be a long time before any of them could come to our aid.

I looked toward Luke again, clasping my hands together anxiously. He was at a clear disadvantage, and getting worse with every exchange. Every blow he landed seemed to melt into Rash’alon’s shadow, diminishing his soul, but not nearly as quickly as his strength bled from his wounds.

"Liar," I whispered, biting my lip. He’d promised he could absorb Rash’alon’s curses, yet his soul was entangled in them. Even the slight gap he’d created to allow me to slip away was gone.