Chapter 131: 131
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It would've happened sooner or later, even if they'd once been partners at one point in time. Reconciliation was impossible for either of them, especially after what he had done.
Twice she had her trust betrayed. Once by the Father; Once by the Son.
There was a limit to her compassion. She could not handle being betrayed a third time. Neither could the world; it was at the brink of collapse thanks to their failures of the Father and the Son.
The Father had succumbed to his Fear.
The Son had succumbed to his Wrath.
\"He almost succumbed to his Guilt but he, unlike the both of you, triumphed over his greatest enemy — the self-destructive nature within him,\" she said.
\"…Perhaps, but his source of will is far too weak to do what must be done. It has not been tempered and is nothing more than an immature sprout.\"
\"We don't have any more time left, even if you might be right about him. He won't stand a chance. It stands to reason that my source of will be used instead if we are to even have a chance of pulling this off. You're going to ruin everything we've worked for!\"
\"All I hear is your ego talking, Coward. Even now, you still want to be the one to finish it, no? To do what he couldn't. You haven't grown up a single bit since we've last met...\"
The sky above them crackled furiously as rain and lightning poured down from the heavens. Two incorporeal spirits faced off against one another as the storm above them continued to intensify.
They'd once been something very similar to soulmates. He had been her Master; She, his Holy Servant. A pair-bond united by a common goal — to finish what the Father had been unable to do.
She had offered everything she had to better assist him, be it her power, her knowledge, and her heavenly wisdom. In many respects, she was his original mentor.
Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.
Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.
They were not like the inexperienced whelps that called themselves Conquerors. In their hands, Anima was a means of bringing miracles into reality.
The bumbling fools who were referred to as Chosen were nothing more than charlatans compared to them.
Their battle had already begun before they'd even started. It was a fight that could not be perceived with the perspective of a mortal.
A single raindrop fell from the sky, a thousand meters above them.
Hundreds of thousands of different future states shifted in and out of existence as the two silently squared off in front of each other.
Several decades worth of possible futures were reflected upon the surface of that raindrop. An entire mortal lifespan.
Potentialities that were considered detrimental were discarded without thought. Those that held some promise were kept at hand. Of the remaining futures — the most unstable and ill-defined — were kept secret, for they were their trump cards.
In a battle such as this, only true chaos could be trusted. It neither favored them, nor their enemy. Most importantly though, no one knew what sort of fate was held within an unstable future path.
What they could perceive, their enemy could as well.
Simply put: It was a dance. They were the dancers; the myriad of potential futures — the ballad of unwritten destinies— their song.
The raindrop hit the ground.
Space and time unwound in different directions as they moved towards each other in different ways.
He bent space toward him, dragging her over to him. Space-time turned into malleable clay in his hands. Shaping the fabric of reality into whatever form he desired was like child's play to him.
She, on the other hand, outright severed the space in front of her, imposing a short-term change in reality. To put it bluntly, she had cut the distance, the space between them.
The two specters crashed into one another and immediately went in for the kill. Neither one of them was interested in analyzing the other… because there was nothing to learn.
She had taught him everything he knew about shaping Anima and had shaped into the warrior he was now.
His techniques were based on her own. His fighting style was based on the one she'd taught him several lifetimes ago. His idiosyncrasies were also not his entirely his own; he had unwittingly inherited many of his quirks from her.
When it came to his performance as a warrior, she was, more or less, his mother. That much was undeniable. Were it not for her, he would have never achieved mastery over Anima the way he had.
Thus, it was only natural that she had the upper hand in the fight.
It was all a matter of reflex for her; she didn't even need to think about it. She leapt into the second within the second — accelerated herself to the limit and threw out a fist towards her second student.
Whoever struck first, won first. That was the first rule she'd ingrained into his little head. To be as efficient as they could be in a fight. That one should strike the killing blow in as few steps as feasibly possible.
Some warriors loved to show off and use superfluous techniques to inspire fear and awe in their opponents. They'd hold back their power and only bring it forth when they felt it necessary…
They're half-baked warriors, understand? In fact, it's better to treat them as charlatans, clowns, and entertainers rather than actual warriors.
…But would not it be preferable to intimidate your opponents? Make them doubt themselves, to lower their morale and by extension, their fighting potential? I feel like you're being a little too harsh on them…
Let the act of killing inspire dread in your future opponents. Don't stoop down to their level, boy. You're fighting to kill your enemy, not to frighten them.
The only time you should do something like that is when you know the person deserves it — that they should suffer before they die. Only sinners deserve that sort of treatment…
It was hypocritical of her. Even now, after everything that he'd done, she couldn't bring herself to make him suffer. She had him dead to rights. He was a sinner of the highest order, who had failed the responsibility he had been entrusted with.
Failed her expectations. He was a disappointment and deserved to suffer, but even so… she couldn't do it.
Her merciful strike flew out and hit him, sending him flying out into the stratosphere. A massive hole in the storm suddenly appeared out of thin air as if something had torn it.
The mortals who lived in Cem-Elle watched the storm with curiosity from afar as it continued to wildly transform into something horrifying. Glittering, brilliant lights and loud booming reminiscent of thunderclaps echoed across the grasslands as the storm expanded outward like a ripple in space-time.
They, the townspeople, had a right to be scared, given what they'd seen. Something had flown out of the thunderstorm, evident by the gaping hole that suddenly appeared.
And then, it happened. The ground trembled furiously as an entire mountain crumbled into pieces a couple of miles in the distance, near the border between the South and the West. An immense plume of fire, smoke, and ash shot up into the sky.
A deafening shockwave radiated out from the epicenter of the impact and struck Cem-Elle. Windows across the town shattered and people screamed in panic as they moved to protect themselves and their families.
The sky above turned crimson as flaming meteors fell upon the earth. Some of them descended upon Cem-Elle and would have set the town aflame…
…Had Lu'um not intervened. A dome of Anima protected the town and blocked the destruction that would have befallen it.
She was certain that Reed was somewhere inside of the storm, but couldn't do anything to help him — not while she was burdened with protecting Cem-Elle.
It was evident to her that the fight out in the grasslands was starting to get serious. A single off-hand attack from whatever was inside of the thunderstorm would easily destroy the town in an instant.
If she left the town to fend for itself, they'd most likely perish by the end of the fight. She would have to either abandon the town or let Reed handle whatever was happening in the storm. Lu'um couldn't do both.
…Goddammit! I can't just… cast them aside. God forbid, they die because I neglected them and their deaths happen because of me…!
In the end, Lu'um bit her lips and held her ground in Cem-Elle. There was nothing she could aside from keeping the worst possible scenario from happening in town.
She prayed that whatever was happening inside of the storm would end soon and wished her beloved the best of luck.
Heaven knew that Reed needed it, especially where he was…
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It would've happened sooner or later, even if they'd once been partners at one point in time. Reconciliation was impossible for either of them, especially after what he had done.
Twice she had her trust betrayed. Once by the Father; Once by the Son.
There was a limit to her compassion. She could not handle being betrayed a third time. Neither could the world; it was at the brink of collapse thanks to their failures of the Father and the Son.
The Father had succumbed to his Fear.
The Son had succumbed to his Wrath.
\"He almost succumbed to his Guilt but he, unlike the both of you, triumphed over his greatest enemy — the self-destructive nature within him,\" she said.
\"…Perhaps, but his source of will is far too weak to do what must be done. It has not been tempered and is nothing more than an immature sprout.\"
\"We don't have any more time left, even if you might be right about him. He won't stand a chance. It stands to reason that my source of will be used instead if we are to even have a chance of pulling this off. You're going to ruin everything we've worked for!\"
\"All I hear is your ego talking, Coward. Even now, you still want to be the one to finish it, no? To do what he couldn't. You haven't grown up a single bit since we've last met...\"
The sky above them crackled furiously as rain and lightning poured down from the heavens. Two incorporeal spirits faced off against one another as the storm above them continued to intensify.
They'd once been something very similar to soulmates. He had been her Master; She, his Holy Servant. A pair-bond united by a common goal — to finish what the Father had been unable to do.
She had offered everything she had to better assist him, be it her power, her knowledge, and her heavenly wisdom. In many respects, she was his original mentor.
Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.
Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.
They were not like the inexperienced whelps that called themselves Conquerors. In their hands, Anima was a means of bringing miracles into reality.
The bumbling fools who were referred to as Chosen were nothing more than charlatans compared to them.
Their battle had already begun before they'd even started. It was a fight that could not be perceived with the perspective of a mortal.
A single raindrop fell from the sky, a thousand meters above them.
Hundreds of thousands of different future states shifted in and out of existence as the two silently squared off in front of each other.
Several decades worth of possible futures were reflected upon the surface of that raindrop. An entire mortal lifespan.
Potentialities that were considered detrimental were discarded without thought. Those that held some promise were kept at hand. Of the remaining futures — the most unstable and ill-defined — were kept secret, for they were their trump cards.
In a battle such as this, only true chaos could be trusted. It neither favored them, nor their enemy. Most importantly though, no one knew what sort of fate was held within an unstable future path.
What they could perceive, their enemy could as well.
Simply put: It was a dance. They were the dancers; the myriad of potential futures — the ballad of unwritten destinies— their song.
The raindrop hit the ground.
Space and time unwound in different directions as they moved towards each other in different ways.
He bent space toward him, dragging her over to him. Space-time turned into malleable clay in his hands. Shaping the fabric of reality into whatever form he desired was like child's play to him.
She, on the other hand, outright severed the space in front of her, imposing a short-term change in reality. To put it bluntly, she had cut the distance, the space between them.
The two specters crashed into one another and immediately went in for the kill. Neither one of them was interested in analyzing the other… because there was nothing to learn.
She had taught him everything he knew about shaping Anima and had shaped into the warrior he was now.
His techniques were based on her own. His fighting style was based on the one she'd taught him several lifetimes ago. His idiosyncrasies were also not his entirely his own; he had unwittingly inherited many of his quirks from her.
When it came to his performance as a warrior, she was, more or less, his mother. That much was undeniable. Were it not for her, he would have never achieved mastery over Anima the way he had.
Thus, it was only natural that she had the upper hand in the fight.
It was all a matter of reflex for her; she didn't even need to think about it. She leapt into the second within the second — accelerated herself to the limit and threw out a fist towards her second student.
Whoever struck first, won first. That was the first rule she'd ingrained into his little head. To be as efficient as they could be in a fight. That one should strike the killing blow in as few steps as feasibly possible.
Some warriors loved to show off and use superfluous techniques to inspire fear and awe in their opponents. They'd hold back their power and only bring it forth when they felt it necessary…
They're half-baked warriors, understand? In fact, it's better to treat them as charlatans, clowns, and entertainers rather than actual warriors.
…But would not it be preferable to intimidate your opponents? Make them doubt themselves, to lower their morale and by extension, their fighting potential? I feel like you're being a little too harsh on them…
Let the act of killing inspire dread in your future opponents. Don't stoop down to their level, boy. You're fighting to kill your enemy, not to frighten them.
The only time you should do something like that is when you know the person deserves it — that they should suffer before they die. Only sinners deserve that sort of treatment…
It was hypocritical of her. Even now, after everything that he'd done, she couldn't bring herself to make him suffer. She had him dead to rights. He was a sinner of the highest order, who had failed the responsibility he had been entrusted with.
Failed her expectations. He was a disappointment and deserved to suffer, but even so… she couldn't do it.
Her merciful strike flew out and hit him, sending him flying out into the stratosphere. A massive hole in the storm suddenly appeared out of thin air as if something had torn it.
The mortals who lived in Cem-Elle watched the storm with curiosity from afar as it continued to wildly transform into something horrifying. Glittering, brilliant lights and loud booming reminiscent of thunderclaps echoed across the grasslands as the storm expanded outward like a ripple in space-time.
They, the townspeople, had a right to be scared, given what they'd seen. Something had flown out of the thunderstorm, evident by the gaping hole that suddenly appeared.
And then, it happened. The ground trembled furiously as an entire mountain crumbled into pieces a couple of miles in the distance, near the border between the South and the West. An immense plume of fire, smoke, and ash shot up into the sky.
A deafening shockwave radiated out from the epicenter of the impact and struck Cem-Elle. Windows across the town shattered and people screamed in panic as they moved to protect themselves and their families.
The sky above turned crimson as flaming meteors fell upon the earth. Some of them descended upon Cem-Elle and would have set the town aflame…
…Had Lu'um not intervened. A dome of Anima protected the town and blocked the destruction that would have befallen it.
She was certain that Reed was somewhere inside of the storm, but couldn't do anything to help him — not while she was burdened with protecting Cem-Elle.
It was evident to her that the fight out in the grasslands was starting to get serious. A single off-hand attack from whatever was inside of the thunderstorm would easily destroy the town in an instant.
If she left the town to fend for itself, they'd most likely perish by the end of the fight. She would have to either abandon the town or let Reed handle whatever was happening in the storm. Lu'um couldn't do both.
…Goddammit! I can't just… cast them aside. God forbid, they die because I neglected them and their deaths happen because of me…!
In the end, Lu'um bit her lips and held her ground in Cem-Elle. There was nothing she could aside from keeping the worst possible scenario from happening in town.
She prayed that whatever was happening inside of the storm would end soon and wished her beloved the best of luck.
Heaven knew that Reed needed it, especially where he was…
It would've happened sooner or later, even if they'd once been partners at one point in time. Reconciliation was impossible for either of them, especially after what he had done.Twice she had her trust betrayed. Once by the Father; Once by the Son.There was a limit to her compassion. She could not handle being betrayed a third time. Neither could the world; it was at the brink of collapse thanks to their failures of the Father and the Son.The Father had succumbed to hisFear.The Son had succumbed to hisWrath.\"He almost succumbed to his Guilt but he, unlike the both of you, triumphed over his greatest enemy the self-destructive nature within him,\" she said.\"Perhaps, but his source of will is far too weak to do what must be done. It has not been tempered and is nothing more than an immature sprout.\"\"We don't have any more time left, even if you might be right about him. He won't stand a chance. It stands to reason that my source of will be used instead if we are to even have a chance of pulling this off. You're going to ruin everything we've worked for!\"\"All I hear is your ego talking, Coward. Even now, you still want to be the one to finish it, no? To do what he couldn't. You haven't grown up a single bit since we've last met...\"The sky above them crackled furiously as rain and lightning poured down from the heavens. Two incorporeal spirits faced off against one another as the storm above them continued to intensify.They'd once been something very similar to soulmates. He had been her Master; She, his Holy Servant. A pair-bond united by a common goal to finish what the Father had been unable to do.She had offered everything she had to better assist him, be it her power, her knowledge, and her heavenly wisdom. In many respects, she was his original mentor.Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.Who knew Heaven's secrets better than the Emissary of Heaven herself? He could not have asked for a better mentor even if he tried.They were not like the inexperienced whelps that called themselves Conquerors. In their hands, Anima was a means of bringing miracles into reality.The bumbling fools who were referred to as Chosen were nothing more than charlatans compared to them.Their battle had already begun before they'd even started. It was a fight that could not be perceived with the perspective of a mortal.A single raindrop fell from the sky, a thousand meters above them.Hundreds of thousands of different future states shifted in and out of existence as the two silently squared off in front of each other.Several decades worth of possible futures were reflected upon the surface of that raindrop. An entire mortal lifespan.Potentialities that were considered detrimental were discarded without thought. Those that held some promise were kept at hand. Of the remaining futures the most unstable and ill-defined were kept secret, for they were their trump cards.In a battle such as this, only true chaos could be trusted. It neither favored them, nor their enemy. Most importantly though, no one knew what sort of fate was held within an unstable future path.What they could perceive, their enemy could as well.Simply put: It was a dance. They were the dancers; the myriad of potential futures the ballad of unwritten destinies their song.The raindrop hit the ground.Space and time unwound in different directions as they moved towards each other in different ways.He bent space toward him, dragging her over to him. Space-time turned into malleable clay in his hands. Shaping the fabric of reality into whatever form he desired was like child's play to him.She, on the other hand, outright severed the space in front of her, imposing a short-term change in reality. To put it bluntly, she had cut the distance, the space between them.The two specters crashed into one another and immediately went in for the kill. Neither one of them was interested in analyzing the other because there was nothing to learn.She had taught him everything he knew about shaping Anima and had shaped into the warrior he was now.His techniques were based on her own. His fighting style was based on the one she'd taught him several lifetimes ago. His idiosyncrasies were also not his entirely his own; he had unwittingly inherited many of his quirks from her.When it came to his performance as a warrior, she was, more or less, his mother. That much was undeniable. Were it not for her, he would have never achieved mastery over Anima the way he had.Thus, it was only natural that she had the upper hand in the fight.It was all a matter of reflex for her; she didn't even need to think about it. She leapt into the second within the second accelerated herself to the limit and threw out a fist towards her second student.Whoever struck first, won first. That was the first rule she'd ingrained into his little head. To be as efficient as they could be in a fight. That one should strike the killing blow in as few steps as feasibly possible.Some warriors loved to show off and use superfluous techniques to inspire fear and awe in their opponents. They'd hold back their power and only bring it forth when they felt it necessaryThey're half-baked warriors, understand? In fact, it's better to treat them as charlatans, clowns, and entertainers rather than actual warriors.But would not it be preferable to intimidate your opponents? Make them doubt themselves, to lower their morale and by extension, their fighting potential? I feel like you're being a little too harsh on themLet the act of killing inspire dread in your future opponents. Don't stoop down to their level, boy. You're fighting to kill your enemy, not to frighten them.The only time you should do something like that is when you know the person deserves it that they should suffer before they die. Only sinners deserve that sort of treatmentIt was hypocritical of her. Even now, after everything that he'd done, she couldn't bring herself to make him suffer. She had him dead to rights. He was a sinner of the highest order, who had failed the responsibility he had been entrusted with.Failed her expectations. He was a disappointment and deserved to suffer, but even so she couldn't do it.Her merciful strike flew out and hit him, sending him flying out into the stratosphere. A massive hole in the storm suddenly appeared out of thin air as if something had torn it.The mortals who lived in Cem-Elle watched the storm with curiosity from afar as it continued to wildly transform into something horrifying. Glittering, brilliant lights and loud booming reminiscent of thunderclaps echoed across the grasslands as the storm expanded outward like a ripple in space-time.They, the townspeople, had a right to be scared, given what they'd seen. Something had flown out of the thunderstorm, evident by the gaping hole that suddenly appeared.And then, it happened. The ground trembled furiously as an entire mountain crumbled into pieces a couple of miles in the distance, near the border between the South and the West. An immense plume of fire, smoke, and ash shot up into the sky.A deafening shockwave radiated out from the epicenter of the impact and struck Cem-Elle. Windows across the town shattered and people screamed in panic as they moved to protect themselves and their families.The sky above turned crimson as flaming meteors fell upon the earth. Some of them descended upon Cem-Elle and would have set the town aflameHad Lu'um not intervened. A dome of Anima protected the town and blocked the destruction that would have befallen it.She was certain that Reed was somewhere inside of the storm, but couldn't do anything to help him not while she was burdened with protecting Cem-Elle.It was evident to her that the fight out in the grasslands was starting to get serious. A single off-hand attack from whatever was inside of the thunderstorm would easily destroy the town in an instant.If she left the town to fend for itself, they'd most likely perish by the end of the fight. She would have to either abandon the town or let Reed handle whatever was happening in the storm. Lu'um couldn't do both.Goddammit! I can't just cast them aside. God forbid, they die because I neglected them and their deaths happen because of me!In the end, Lu'um bit her lips and held her ground in Cem-Elle. There was nothing she could aside from keeping the worst possible scenario from happening in town.She prayed that whatever was happening inside of the storm would end soon and wished her beloved the best of luck.Heaven knew that Reed needed it, especially where he was
