A laugh echoed softly in my ears, accompanied by a sudden gust of cold wind. Gradually, all physical sensation began to fade away, replaced by a singular, overwhelming emotion: awe.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself suspended in a vast expanse unlike anything on Earth. An infinite canvas of deep black stretched in every direction, adorned with millions of shimmering stars that sparkled like diamonds scattered across velvet. It was as if I stood within a colossal painting, where a master artist had meticulously dotted the darkness with points of white light. Yet, the stars were not solely white; interspersed among them were breathtaking hues of blues, fiery reds, and golden yellows, creating a cosmic work of indescribable beauty.
I attempted to speak, but no sound escaped my lips. I willed my limbs to move, but they remained unresponsive. Instead, I floated weightlessly, caught in a gentle, endless rotation as though gravity and air no longer held any sway over me.
"It was only fitting that you were the one to end him," a voice resonated from all around me, emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once. I couldn't pinpoint its tone; it was as if a thousand voices spoke in perfect unison, yet each word was delivered with absolute clarity. "Skarseld is now forever closed," the voice continued. "That place was never meant to be traversed by the living, nor the dead—nor by anyone at all. A realm not of my creation but born of something else entirely."
The voice halted abruptly, leaving me in silence. Questions swirled within my mind. What was this place? Who was speaking to me?
"Maintaining this connection is challenging... especially from such a great distance," the voice admitted, as if anticipating my confusion. "That realm distorts the mind, conjuring your deepest thoughts and memories into tangible forms to torment you. So, to spare you from that anguish, I have extracted you from it." The tone shifted then, adopting a more ominous timbre. "But heed this warning: never, ever seek it out again. Should you attempt to return, it won't be only you who becomes ensnared within its confines."
As the final words subsided through the void, the universe around me began to warp and sway. The stars stretched into elongated streaks, their light smearing across the darkness like wet paint running down a canvas. Colors blended and swirled in a dizzying display. Although the voice spoke no further, I could sense its presence lingering—watching me, ever vigilant.
All the light faded away into an all-encompassing blackness, and I felt myself descending rapidly before being unceremoniously dropped onto a cold surface. The impact sent a jolt through my body, and for a moment, I lay there disoriented, but ss I lifted my head, the familiar surroundings of the underworld came into view.
This voice... it wasn’t like Vollith’s or Belzarok’s. It felt too distant, too... omnipresent. But who—or what—was speaking to me? I’d never know. And maybe I wasn’t meant to.
Pushing myself upright with trembling arms, I scanned the oppressive void for any sign of an exit, some portal or pathway that might lead me away from this desolate place. But the inky darkness offered no such solace; there were no doors, no cracks in the fabric of this realm.
"Vol—" I attempted to call out, but my words were abruptly cut short as a searing pain ignited deep within my stomach. A gasp escaped my lips as I doubled over, clutching at my abdomen. The agony was intense and unrelenting, like molten iron twisting inside me. As I struggled to breathe through the pain, whispers rose from the surrounding shadows—hundreds of voices murmuring in a dissonant chorus, their words unintelligible.
"Little mouse," a familiar voice purred. Vollith emerged gracefully, her form materializing as if woven by cloth. "Poor little thing," she cooed, tilting her head to one side.
She approached almost predatorily; each step silent against the unseen ground. Kneeling beside me, she reached out and gently lifted my chin with a slender finger, forcing me to meet her gaze.
"How did you get out?" she inquired softly, though there was an undercurrent in her tone that suggested she already knew the answer.
I shook my head weakly, unable to find the words—or perhaps unwilling to speak them.
"Interesting," she mused, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her eyes studied me intently, "And all this power..." Vollith closed her eyes briefly and inhaled deeply, as if savoring a delicate fragrance. "So much of it. Your soul is desperately trying to contain it all... but it lacks the strength."
"What’s going t—to... happen to me?" I managed to utter between ragged breaths, my hand still pressed firmly against my stomach in a futile attempt to quell the torment within.
Her gaze drifted slowly from my face down to my chest, lingering there for a moment before returning to meet my eyes. "This vessel of yours will be destroyed," she stated matter-of-factly. "The soul will outgrow it, and in doing so, it will tear you apart from the inside. Ultimately, it will kill you, and the immense energy will disperse—dissipating into the world's background void."
After everything I had endured, I couldn't let it end like this. A surge of desperation welled up inside me, threatening to overwhelm any semblance of composure I had left. Looking up at Vollith, I felt utterly vulnerable. "Help me," I pleaded, my voice barely more than a strained whisper. "Please."
For a fleeting moment, she remained utterly silent. The voices that had filled the shadows around us fell into an abrupt hush. The stillness scared me. Vollith parted her lips as if to speak, but hesitation flickered across her features—something I thought of as out of character.
"I shouldn't..." she murmured at last, a soft laugh escaping her lips. Yet, there was no warmth or humor in the sound—it was hollow, almost sardonic. "...But who will stop me?" Her eyes remained nothing but stoic.
Slowly, she reached out and placed two slender fingers against my forehead. Her touch was warm. In that instant, the searing pain that had been tearing through my body dissipated entirely, replaced by an overwhelming surge of power that coursed through every fiber of my being.
I staggered backward, momentarily disoriented by the sudden shift. Raising my hands before me, I watched in awe as flames erupted around them—a blaze of fire that enveloped my flesh without consuming it. The flames were sharp and vivid, their heat intense yet somehow non-destructive. They danced along my skin like living entities, fierce and untamed.
My gaze lifted to meet hers, "Please... take it away," I muttered through ragged breaths. Even though the agony had ceased, a new kind of dread settled within me. "I don't want it."
Vollith simply shook her head, a simple, crooked smile curving her lips. There was a hint of something inscrutable in her eyes—amusement, perhaps, or pity. "Goodbye, little mouse," she said softly. With a graceful flick of her wrist, she snapped her fingers.
Suddenly, a brilliant gateway of light materialized beneath my feet, lighting the realm in silver. I barely had time to gasp before gravity seemed to invert itself. The moment my soles touched the radiant surface, a powerful force pulled me downward.
As soon as the portal released me, I was unceremoniously spat out onto the rubble of the ruined church. My body collided with the unforgiving debris, arms striking jagged stones and splintered wooden beams. A groan escaped my lips—"Mm..."—as I struggled to catch my breath.
Blinking against the sudden brightness, I glanced upward. The sun hung high in the sky, bathing me in light. Yet, despite the discomfort, the warmth of its rays felt like like heaven against the coldness of the underworld.
I reached out and grasped a piece of hanging timber, its surface rough and weathered. My fingers dug into the wood, splinters embedding themselves into my palms, but I paid no heed. With a determined grunt, I pulled myself upward. Each movement was a struggle, but inch by inch, I managed to rise from the wreckage.
Once on my feet, I paused to catch my breath, my chest heaving. Glancing down at my hands, I half-expected to see them still engulfed in flames. But no fire danced upon my skin—only the fresh cuts and grime from the ruins. Yet, deep within, I could sense it: a pulsing, potent energy that coursed through my veins like liquid fire. The power to conjure the flames was still there, stronger than ever before.
Whatever this newfound power was, it felt immense—almost overwhelming. I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. The air was filled with the scent of ash and earth. The sounds of the world slowly filtered back: the distant crashing of waves, and the footsteps of something living.
I glanced upward and saw it—the creature from before. It slouched past me as I stayed silent. Poor thing was blind, but that didn’t seem to matter. Slowly, I clenched my hand into a fist, feeling a ball of fire form around it, crackling with dark purple energy. With a quick motion, I hurled the energy forward, sending it crashing into the creature. The impact shattered its form instantly, scattering chunks of rock everywhere. An orange liquid splattered across the debris.
It felt... good. Like everything was within my grasp—mine to control, mine to destroy.
No. I couldn’t let myself think that way, I shouldn’t... but then again, who could stop me?
Climbing out of the debris, something came back to me. I remembered when the bandits had tied me to a tree and taken Odessa to the town. Somehow, just by imagining it, I had teleported there. I hadn’t thought much about it since, but maybe...
I gazed at the distant hill, just barely visible between the rooftops. Narrowing my eyes, I pictured myself standing on it, but nothing happened. I closed my eyes, focusing harder. When I reopened them, I was there—on the hill, staring out at the shoreline. Waves crashed softly against the crimson sand, their rhythm oddly calming.
"Holy shit..." I muttered, turning around to take in the sprawling ruins of the once-great city in the distance. It really worked—I couldn't believe it. The sheer reality of having teleported was staggering. Immediately, my gaze drifted toward the mainland, just a faint outline across water.
Closing my eyes, I conjured up a vivid image: golden sands stretching along the shoreline, dark green grasses swaying gently, and towering trees reaching toward the sky. I imagined the crisp scent of fresh air filling my lungs, unlike the lingering smell of ash and burning wood that filled this island. A sudden gust of wind pressed against me, and tiny droplets of moisture formed on my skin, like the first hints of a coming rain.
Opening my eyes, I found myself surrounded by the lush forest of Yorothen. The familiar dock lay to my left, its wooden planks extending over the rough waters. "Ikevine!" I called out, running toward the gently sloping base of the dock. My footsteps squeaked softly against the wood, but there was no response. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Something was different.
I slowed my pace, noticing that the dock appeared somewhat altered, though I couldn't quite pinpoint how. The usual stacks of barrels and crates awaiting shipment were absent. Instead, the area was quiet. The wood itself seemed newer, the planks lighter in color and lacking the wear and tear I remembered.
"Finally," a voice sounded from behind me. Startled, I spun around to see Ikevine standing there, arms crossed and leaning against a tree trunk. "You've been gone for days."
"What?" I exclaimed, my eyes widening in disbelief. "It's only been a few hours."
He shook his head, "No, it's been days. I’ve started to think you were dead.”
"That can't be—" I started to protest, but abruptly stopped myself. A realization struck me. "She did say time worked differently..."
Ikevine looked at me with clear confusion, lowering his arms. "Who?" he asked, his brows knitting together.
"Don't, uh... don't worry about it," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. As I studied him more closely, something caught my eye. Ikevine was now wearing his armor, the familiar plates gleaming softly in the filtered light of the forest. His sword was slung across his back, the hilt visible over his shoulder. He had managed to retrieve his gear—whether by reconciling with the Sovurn or through less diplomatic means, I couldn't be sure. Either way, it was a welcome sight.
"Well," he huffed, crossing his arms, "did you do it?"
"Do...?" I trailed off, momentarily distracted. Then, meeting his eyes, I realized what he meant. "He's dead," I confirmed blatantly.
"Good," Ikevine remarked, a hint of begrudging acknowledgment in his voice. "You've finally done something right." He paused, raising an eyebrow as he studied me more closely. "Aren't you going to ask?"
I drew in a sharp breath, already knowing what he was referring to but fearing the answer. "Odessa... did she make it?" I asked cautiously.
For a moment, Ikevine remained silent, his gaze shifting away as if contemplating how to deliver the news. Finally, he nodded. "She was returned to the Fausts," he informed me, adjusting the weight of his armor with a subtle shift of his shoulders. "Chlodovech is getting married today."
"So?" I replied.
"So... dumbass..." He sighed heavily, already irritated. "Everyone will be distracted with the ceremony. You can go in there and get her out."
I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as I scrutinized him. "You?" I asked pointedly. "Aren't you going to help?"
He shook his head slowly, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I've done enough—more than I should have... and..." Ikevine let out a hollow laugh. "I don't even like you."
Despite the roughness of his speech, he was right. Ikevine wanted nothing to do with me yet helped regardless for the sake of killing Belzarok. Without him I would have never made it outside of the Heladonic borders, let alone Othonar Island.
As he turned away, something stopped him. "One last request," I called out.
He paused but didn't turn to face me. "What is it?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Take me to Heladon."
Ikevine stood still for a moment before speaking, his back still turned. "You should prepare before doing anything stupid," he cautioned.
"No," I muttered firmly. Raising my hand, I let flames flicker to life around my fingers, intertwined with crackling arcs of electricity. The raw energy pulsed and glowed, casting light between us. Ikevine turned slowly, his eyes widening fearfully.
"What are you going to do?" he asked quietly, his gaze locked onto the seething power in my hand.
I exhaled sharply, feeling the immense energy coursing through me. "I'm going to slaughter Chlodovech and anyone who stands by him," I declared. Meeting his eyes, I added with unwavering conviction, "Down with the monarchy."
Ikevine's expression hardened as he searched my face for any sign of hesitation. "You would murder many," he said slowly. "And you're okay with that?"
Shaking my head, I replied differently than before. "I have to be," I said softly. A sorrowful smile crossed my face as I added, "Otherwise, I'll go insane—and I don't want to become like Thadomire."
Ikevine's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "Then you're just like him..." he said slowly, his hand subtly moving toward the hilt of his sword. "...like Belzarok."
Something struck me as his demeanor changed. "Ikevine?" I watched every movement he made, taking a cautious step backward. "What are you doing?" I asked.
Without breaking eye contact, he unsheathed his large sword, the metallic hiss slicing through the damp air. The blade gleamed as he rested it casually on his shoulder, the sharp edge miraculously leaving his armor unscathed. His grip tightened around the hilt, knuckles turning white beneath his gauntlet.
"It'll go quickly," he said dismissively, his tone cold and detached. "Then that energy won't be anyone's to have.”
“No—no... you won’t kill me... you can’t,” I said, fists clenched as light began to flicker violently around them. Each spark of energy crackled in sync with my heartbeat, surging stronger with every second. “You’ll die. You know that?”
Ikevine’s gaze didn’t waver, but his grip on his sword tightened. The muscles in his arms rippled as he raised the blade.
Then he moved. Fast. Faster than I’d ever seen him move before. His sword blurred through the air, slicing downward in a vicious arc that would’ve split me clean in two if I hadn’t barely shifted out of the way. The blade cut through the space directly in front of my face, close enough that I could feel the gust of wind it left in its wake.
Without hesitation, Ikevine swung again, his movements precise, deadly, but slow in my mind’s eye. It was as though time had warped around us, bending to my will. My body reacted before I even thought—stepping back effortlessly, avoiding the swing by mere inches.
“Fuck you,” I spat, my voice low.
The light around my fists flared brighter, intensifying with the building energy. I surged forward, my footwork fluid, controlled. A punch flew toward Ikevine’s chest, crackling with power. He blocked it with his sword, but I didn’t let up. With a snarl, I spun around, kicking toward his side with brutal force.
He staggered but didn’t fall.
Ikevine swung, and again I dodged effortlessly, almost mocking the effort he put into each blow.
His silence was infuriating. I could hear my own breathing, ragged and uneven, the blood pounding in my ears, but from him? Nothing. Not a grunt, not a sound of exertion, just the cold look of his eyes.
I lunged forward again, this time smashing my fist into his sword hand, sending the blade clattering to the ground. The moment his weapon hit the dirt, I saw something flicker in his eyes—a spark of realization, perhaps—but it didn’t matter.
Before he could react, I thrust my arm forward, unleashing a surge of raw energy that slammed into him like a tidal wave. The force hurled Ikevine off his feet, sending him crashing onto the ground with a resounding thud that echoed through the silent forest. A grunt of pain escaped his lips.
Seizing the moment, I closed the distance between us in an instant. Before he could regain his senses, I pressed my hand against his face, channeling the searing heat that now flowed effortlessly through me. The skin beneath my palm began to sizzle, the acrid smell of burning flesh filling the air. His muffled screams rose around us, a haunting melody of agony that seemed to make the very trees shudder. But I didn't care—not anymore. He had tried to stop me, and in that moment, all that mattered was making him pay. Hotter and hotter, brighter and brighter—the flames consumed everything.
Finally, I withdrew my hand, strands of scorched flesh clinging to my fingers. His face was a charred ruin, a grotesque mask of exposed muscle and bone. He lay there, breathing raggedly, but he uttered no words.
I stood over Ikevine, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through me. My gaze fixed on the grotesque sight below—the once stoic and indomitable bounty hunter now reduced to a bloody, charred mess. His face, a ruin of burnt flesh and exposed muscle, should have stirred something in me. Regret, perhaps? Remorse? But no—there was nothing. I felt empty. Hollow.
Taking a step back, I ran a hand through my hair and muttered under my breath, "Shit..." My eyes closed for a brief moment, the weight of everything catching up to me, but when they snapped open again, I noticed movement. Ikevine, against all odds, was still alive, his ragged breathing filling the cold air as his hand weakly reached for his sword. My first instinct was to prepare for another attack, but something in his movements told me otherwise—he wasn’t aiming to strike.
Without warning, I surged forward, reaching out as he began to shimmer, his body enveloped in that familiar magic. No... I wasn’t letting him escape. My fingers barely grazed him before everything vanished, and the world was swallowed by darkness.
We fell.
Again, like before, we plunged into the black void, spiraling downward faster and faster. The sensation of free-fall was nauseating, my stomach twisting as we tumbled through the abyss. The air whipped around us in a silent scream, and for a moment, it felt like we would never stop—like we’d be falling forever. But then, suddenly, a light burst beneath us, and we were spit out into the world once more.
I hit the ground hard, the impact sending me rolling across the frozen earth. Snow sprayed up in cold bursts as I skidded to a stop. My vision swam with dizziness, the world around me spinning in a blur of white. "Fuck..." I grunted, forcing myself to my feet despite the nausea. The cold bite of the snow beneath me offered little comfort as I struggled to steady myself.
"Ikevine—" I managed to call out, but before I could even finish, a blade sliced through the air, cutting cleanly across my stomach. "Agh—!" The scream tore from my throat as I staggered back, clutching at the deep wound. Hot blood spilled between my fingers, staining the pristine snow in dark crimson streaks. The pain was excruciating, a burning agony that pulsed with every heartbeat.
Ikevine stood over me, towering like a shadow. His face was a horror of burnt skin and exposed sinew, yet he still stood, gasping for breath, his eyes wild but focused. For a split second, I thought he was going to finish it, to drive the sword through me and end this once and for all. But then... he hesitated. His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite place, and instead of striking again, he vanished—gone in an instant, leaving nothing but the cold wind and the bloodied snow behind.
"Motherfucker..." I cursed through gritted teeth, pressing my hand tightly against the bleeding wound in a futile attempt to stop the flow. Each breath felt like fire in my lungs, and every movement sent fresh waves of pain coursing through me. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled beneath me, and I collapsed back into the snow with a heavy thud. The world was spinning again, the edges of my vision growing dim.
I knew what I had to do, as much as I dreaded it. "Come on... come on..." I muttered to myself, voice trembling with desperation. My hand hovered over the wound, and with a deep breath, I summoned the heat. Fire roared to life under my skin, and I pressed my palm against the gash, forcing the flesh to sear together.
"Fuck... fuck!" I screamed, the pain beyond anything I had ever felt. It was as if I was burning alive from the inside, the fire coursing through me in violent waves. But slowly—agonizingly—the bleeding stopped. The wound, though crude and ugly, was sealed. My breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle, but the worst of it was over.
The snow beneath me melted in a small pool, steam rising into the cold air as I finally allowed myself to collapse, exhaustion overtaking me.
Ikevine was fucking wrong. I wasn’t Belzarok, I would never be Belzarok. Chlodovech deserved to burn for his actions, just like those he’s wrongfully killed in the past for blatant lies.
Straggling to my feet with the use of a tree, my eyes scanned my surroundings, then stopped as they landed on a city in the distance. Heladon city, which confused me at first but began to make sense. Examining the trees, they were tall but stouter than those in Yorothen, with snow that clung to them stubbornly. I was home, and that home, would certainly know.
Despite my body’s protests, every step forward only stoked the fire in my chest. My limbs ached, my vision blurred, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could stop me now—not the pain, not the cold, and certainly not guilt. Heladon would burn, and it would burn by my hand.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
