Chapter 263 – Ocean of Blood [10]
They were being corrupted.
They didn’t know how it was possible for beings at their level to be corrupted by only the domain of another, but it was happening... and the results were dreadful.
There had been multiples of them before Serena unleashed her Domain of Void with multiple other Grandmasters and even Masters surrounding them, ready to throw their pathetic lives away to protect them, but all of them beca completely useless the mont the domain was created.
They all died instantly, as if their very bodies couldn’t survive in this kind of environnt. And now, they understood why.
This was not a domain made for the physiology of humans. This was a domain only sothing inhuman, sothing utterly nonsensical could survive in and...
"I thought you were better than human?" Serena’s voice bood through the void, making Neron, Calix, and Ziriel twist their blackened bodies, corrupted by the void, as they searched for the source of her voice. But there was nothing.
All around them stretched only blank darkness. They didn’t know what was left or right, what was up or down.
They were completely and utterly lost.
’How is it possible? How co we didn’t know she was this powerful?’ Neron’s thoughts vibrated at high speed as his body struggled to resist the void toxins gnawing away at his insides.
It didn’t make any sense.
They might have had less information about the Warborns compared to others due to fewer spies in their territory, but the disparity shouldn’t have been this massive.
He shook his head. He’d think about that later. For now, he needed a way out of this situation.
The only way to destroy a domain was to unleash another of equal strength, or to kill or fatally wound the one who cast it.
They couldn’t do either.
At least, not without using their Epithet’s Aspects. Neron clicked his tongue. He always hated using his Aspect, it left him utterly drained. But right now, there was no other choice.
His neon eyes hardened like frosted steel as he looked at Calix and Ziriel. Seeing his gaze, they imdiately knew what they had to do.
And so did Serena.
"Your Aspect, huh?" she chuckled, and suddenly she appeared before them, high above, seated on a throne of pure, hardened void energy.
Her previous appearance was gone. The being who sat there had skin as dark as space, without a shred of light, and eyes that were nothing but circles of swirling darkness. Her hair flowed like condensed shadow, and her forr armor had transford into a queen’s robe crowned by a diadem of void.
Seeing her, the three Cerveau felt the overwhelming urge to bow before her. They resisted. They failed.
The void toxins within their bodies screeched in reverence at the sight of their queen, forcing all of them to their knees.
Three Epithet Realm beings. Three Cerveau. All kneeling before Serena, who sat with wicked regality upon her throne.
Her lips curved upward. "How should I end this, tell ?"
Ziriel snarled, her neon eyes glowing with cold, murderous intent. "You cannot kill us. If you try, we’ll drag you down with us."
Serena tilted her head.
The Cerveau managed, with imnse effort, to stand again, glaring at her with eyes cold enough to freeze worlds.
"You caught us off guard. You’re stronger than we expected. But don’t you know?" Neron’s smile was hollow. "The explosion of an Epithet Realm soul is... quite dangerous, isn’t it?"
"Can you imagine three of them?"
Serena stopped laughing, recognizing the threat behind his words. She looked at the three of them and shook her head. "You won’t do it. You’re cowards who only use others for your dirty work. You can’t sacrifice your own lives."
The Cerveau smiled with indifferent cruelty but beneath that indifference, sothing fragile wavered.
"Then you’d be a fool to believe that."
"We only care about victory. And we’re sure that if we take you down, victory will be ours."
Calix cut in, smiling thinly. "Don’t forget, you only got us here. Aren’t you forgetting soone?"
Calix’s words made Serena’s expression tighten. Brain. She hadn’t sensed him since the beginning. Where was he?
And if three Epithet Realms detonated their souls, even she doubted she’d survive it.
The Cerveau began to relax, believing they had her. Neron hid his hands behind him, his fingers moving rapidly as he began inscribing a rune to escape.
Calix and Ziriel were useless here, their mind and emotion control abilities swallowed whole by the surrounding void.
Only Neron remained. But that was enough.
Or so they thought.
Serena chuckled, and the pressure in the domain multiplied.
"You clearly don’t know us well enough. Or maybe my domain dulled those minds you’re so proud of."
Serena raised her hands and slowly brought them together. Her movents were trembling, strained, as if she were trying to flatten a world between her palms.
Yet that simple gesture sent alarm bells of certain death ringing in the Cerveau’s hearts. Their pulses raced wildly.
"You think you can threaten a Warborn with death?" Serena’s twin eyes spun faster, their dark light intensifying. "We are death, you fools. We are born in war, and we gladly die in it."
"So you want to blow up your souls?"
She smirked coldly.
"Do it. Because if you don’t, in the next second... you’ll all be erased from existence without doing anything worthwhile in your lives."
Her voice ca like the decree of a goddess.
Neron and the others didn’t need to be told, they would die from this attack. So, with everything they had left...
"USE YOUR EPITHET’S ASPECTS!" Neron roared.
Serena only laughed harder. "Wrong choice, little genius. You should have destroyed your souls."
They knew she was right. They could feel it, the devastating power gathering between her palms.
But they couldn’t do it. They couldn’t destroy themselves. How could they? How could beings who saw themselves as gods above humanity willingly discard their lives for victory? Beings who valued survival more than anything, who saw others as re tools?
They couldn’t.
That was exactly why they were going to lose.
Because they were facing soone who cherished death the sa way they cherished life.
They were facing...
"I am a Warborn. Don’t threaten us with dying honorably."
...a bloody Warborn.
CLAP—!
Serena’s palms t. The Cerveau were about to unleash their Aspects, mouths opening to speak...
But the words never left their lips.
Serena’s eldritch, dreadful, utterly terrifying voice rang out through the domain.
No...through all of Waverith.
Everyone heard her. Everyone felt the terror within that voice, a voice that carried the cold promise of oblivion. And all of them wondered who could possess a voice that made them feel as though they were being swallowed by a pitiless void.
But as the words rang out, they all knew, beyond any doubt...
"Spear of the End."
...that this was not the voice of a human.
It was the voice of a god.
Above Waverith, above the Cerveau’s territory, a gargantuan spear of condensed black void, with a tip sharper than glass, tore through the heavens and plunged downward.
For a heartbeat, the world was swallowed in suffocating darkness before light returned.
But the Cerveau territory was no more.
Everything had vanished, leaving only a woman with red hair and black eyes standing weightless in the sky, gazing at the three corpses before her.
Her face was tired, her body trembling from exhaustion, yet she managed a small, weary smile.
"Do not forget, we are the Warborn."
She repeated it, and this ti...
The words carried the weight of sothing far beyond mortal understanding.
...
Far away in the wilderness, Garros stopped for a mont and turned his gaze toward Waverith. He had sensed the power unleashed there, and he knew exactly who had done it.
A wide grin split his face as he laughed wildly, "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
His voice alone made the surrounding white flas halt their assault on his body and scatter away. He laughed for several seconds before fixing his red eyes on Goremaw.
The beast of steeled flesh wrapped in flickering white flas was wounded in many places, but his fire healed him just as quickly, leaving his body unscarred.
Yet his face was solemn.
"The youngest killed two Grandmasters. My daughter killed one. My armies wiped out your Steelbeasts. And my wife just unleashed an attack powerful enough to erase two of you." Garros grinned.
"I’m the only one left, right, Goremaw?"
"But before I end this battle, let ask you one question." He raised a single finger upward.
Goremaw didn’t want to talk. He wanted to fight, to kill Garros, but even he knew the futility of it. This man was a monster, more than himself.
He couldn’t win.
"What’s your question?" Goremaw’s voice didn’t lose its edge, it remained strong, prideful, and confident.
Because he knew, there was no sha in losing to a monster like this.
"Tell ..." Garros began,
"...what do you think about my family?"
The question caught Goremaw off guard. He had expected sothing different — a threat, maybe an insult — but not that. Still, he quickly gathered himself and thought of an answer.
He rembered how Kaden and Daela had killed his commanders while still at Master rank. How the Warborn soldiers had slaughtered his armies, turning the battlefield into an ocean of blood. And he rembered the dreadful, soul-crushing feeling he had just sensed monts ago...
With all of that combined, there was only one thing he could say about the Warborns.
One thing.
"You’re a bunch of monsters wearing human skin."
Garros laughed. "Then let this monster send you to your next life, Goremaw. You’ve been a good battle partner." He said as Aeron appeared in his hand.
Goremaw stood there, his white flas flickering as they condensed slowly but surely into a sphere no larger than a coin.
The temperature soared so high that space itself began to burn, and sothing like molten steel mixed with starlight began pouring down.
"I won’t go without a struggle," Goremaw growled.
Garros grinned. "I wouldn’t hope for anything less from you."
They each took their stance, smiling at one another. Then, a heartbeat later...
"White Hole."
"Sword of Space."
—End of Chapter 263—
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