Monarch Of Darkness, Arsene
1133 Supreme Soul
It's not enough. It's not nearly enough. My spear needs to be fiercer, stronger, and faster. It needs to be supreme. It's not enough that I have the concept. I need to grasp the Mortal Dao. My Pride allowed me to do many things: I could constantly grow in battle, think faster, be faster, and more. There was no limit. It allowed me a sense of supremacy in everything I did, similar to perfection.
To push past my opponent, to dominate my opponent, to reign over creation required a certain degree of Pride.
Wiping the fountain of blood streaming down my nostrils, I looked up at Mephisto, wielding a shortsword stained with my blood.
Over my flesh held such a magnitude of lacerations that had cut so deep not even my bone could defend. Were it not for Pride willing my body to remain together, I'd have fallen to pieces.
I didn't understand what it meant to have Pride before, but this battle with Mephisto was an awakening. It was a rude awakening of the depths of what my sin could deliver. Pride was truly a demonic sin. Honestly, it didn't make sense. As it simply denied death.
Should my head be removed… I'd still be able to fight. My Pride would take over. It would pull me together, devouring the concept of death just to keep me alive. All that was required was willpower. And while I didn't have proof of any of this. I knew it to be true. Pride will allow me to surpass the concepts.
Who knew?
"Two seconds left." Said Mephisto softly.
"I know," I replied, tightening my grip. I met his curious gaze and dashed through the confines of space and time.
Blood washed over my vision as my spear danced through the air like a storm of blood light. I called upon my bloodline to help empower me. However, Mephisto was quick. Parrying each blow with ease despite lowering his cultivation to my level, his pupils suddenly contracted as my blood splashed about due to my injuries quivered.
I smiled, enjoying the waves of inspiration that suddenly overwhelmed my senses. Darkness and Pride acted in tandem as my Authority and comprehension awakened. Images of the Angels sealing spell flashed through my mind and twisted to an amalgamation of spells and knowledge.
Abyssal Laws shattered the skies, leaving behind a Great Time Scar within the Bed of Chaos. As if a domain of chaos had appeared, thick webs of veins bulged as I howled, tearing my throat and flesh, as a wave of Dead Laws appeared one after the other. Leaving behind a wasteland of chaos.
I stared dead at Mephisto's chest and reached forward with Wrath dominating my mind, empowering my beliefs to such a degree I feared what would come afterward.
"Frozen Abyss," I chanted the spell.
The Fourth Heaven froze. Time broke. Space broke. Life broke. Mephisto broke.
Everything within my eyes became fractured like cracked glass, and before my eyes, the images of Mephisto, sealed in time, shattered like the frozen images he was.
Darkness instantly consumed my eyes as my soul light dimmed. I trembled.
"Good spell. Just a little to tailor for my liking. Try not to make a big scene next time." Mephisto said with a childish laugh as I fell into sweet oblivion.
…
…
…
'Hehe! Pop-Pop is learning to fight! Do you want head pats? Iza gives the best head pats. Take this! Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Do you like that?"
"Can you leave him alone? Weirdo!"
"Noooooo!!!!! Iza wanna play!"
"He's half dead!"
"Poke~Poke~Poke! Iza got your cheek! Take that Pop-Pop! "
"Jesus Christ."
My eyes lids trembling at the voice of Izalith and Crowe. A brutal daze washed over my mind as I desperately tried to collect myself.
"Hurry, take his fucking blood already!" Crowe howled. "You know what? I'll do it. Crazy idiot."
Too dazed and confused as a myriad of colors weaved together, darkness came once again.
…
…
…
Coughing up a mouthful of blood, I groaned and stirred myself awake, vomiting another mouthful of organs and blood. Light focused within my eyes, revealing a familiar room wrapped in red. From the curtains to the bedding, it was the color of blood.
"My bedroom?" I moaned, realizing where I was.
"If it isn't the bane of my existence. Lord Snow, it's good to see you again." Sharla, my lovely Shade, said, without the slightest smile, that her great master was awake. "You look like shit."
'..."
Meeting Sharla's cold eyes, a peculiar sensation coiled around my mind. Suddenly as if the great hands of time had been stopped. Sharla froze momentarily: It was less than a millisecond, but she had been frozen.
"Tenebraes grace!" She cursed thereafter, dashing towards me. As blood gushed from my eyes, a splintering pain struck my soul, paralyzing me where I lay. " Can you not continue damaging your soul?"
Checking my pulse Sharla frowned."Looks like we have to do some surgery. A lot of your organs just ruptured: this doesn't look good."
Sneering, a sinful aura hissed. "I'll be fine," I said darkly, feeling my wounds healing according to my will. "What the hell happened? Where is Mephisto?"
"Who? I don't know who that is. But Her Majesty Tenebrae appeared with you in her arms and demanded I repair you. Before taking off. That was a week ago." Sharla said, taking my pulse again; she frowned. "That's some… aura."
"I know." I smiled. "Where are Kuro and Adrian?"
"Training. But Master. I think you should know." Sharla said, her voice turning icy. "A new group suddenly appeared in your court. They call themselves the Black Hand. They said you'd know them."
The drowsiness at the back of my mind evaporated as a storm of anger flashed through my mind like a wave as my killing intent shredded my bed to ash. I stood to my feet as my regal attire donned my flesh.
"Why the fuck is the Black Hand still alive! Zariel, you idiot!" I spat, storming out. I pushed out my senses, glaring at them in one of our guest rooms.
"My Lord!" Sharla called from behind. "There is something else."
"More shitty news!"
"Yes," she answered.
"Then keep your mouth shut." I was already overwhelmed. I don't have time for this shit.
"Genisis and the Bedlands have joined. Aether, Elysum, and the Overworld have allied. While—"
"Fuck!" I barked, narrowing my eyes. My voice thundered with such force. Blood painted my halls as hundreds of thousands imploded into a fine mist: creating another mess. Useless weaklings!
"Ready our legions. I need to head to the Nine Hells. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. And get me a faster ship to cross the Calvorian Sea. I need to take care of Genisis. Hurry it up!" I barked out a few orders, rushing towards the chamber that held the Black Hand.
The very group that hunted me like a fucking dog. Chased me away from my home. Poisoned Mother and me over a dozen times.
Why the hell are they still alive? Zariel, what the hell were you thinking?
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