Southern Islands
Plewren Continent
High-Level World Toverus
July 30th
Year 1054 of the 50th G.C
"You say one person caused all of this?"
Bewússtsein's voice was low, laced with a hint of incredulity at the sight before 'him'.
The demon general, still kneeling, offered a slight nod, his voice devoid of emotion, like a machine.
"Yes."
There was no hesitation or resistance, only submission. His mind, ensnared by Bewússtsein's control, could do nothing else. His body had long given up resisting, and 'his' spirit had succumbed as well.
Bewússtsein's eyes narrowed as 'he' took in the sheer scale of the devastation before 'him'.
The lingering aftermath of a cosmic artifact's devastation, the spatial tears still hungrily waiting to consu anything reckless enough to draw near.
'His' gaze drifted over the scars in space, pausing where Lostvayne's edge had carved into the fabric of reality.
With a slight narrowing of 'his' eyes, 'he' pondered the implications.
'One person, a re mortal boy not even at Transcendence, caused all of this?'
The thought intrigued 'him'. 'He' couldn't deny 'he' was taken aback by what 'he' saw.
As a planetary consciousness, Bewússtsein was deeply attuned to the energy that all planetary consciousnesses relied on for sustained functions—such as nding the wounds inflicted upon the planet itself. Scars like these, jagged rifts in the fabric of space, shimred with a persistent glow that refused to fade.
Cosmic Energy.
Bewússtsein could utilize cosmic energy, and 'he' could use it with the sa proficiency as a Complete Cosmic Being.
In essence, Bewússtsein was a Complete Cosmic Being. After all, 'his' Existence Realm had t the minimum requirent for Complete Cosmic Superiority.
Having been inford that this destruction was the work of a single individual, Bewússtsein pressed two fingers to 'his' temple, briefly closing 'his' eyes before opening them again, attempting to make so sense of the overwhelming scene.
'He' turned to the demon kneeling at 'his' feet, pulling on the cosmic energy chains as 'he' inquired.
"Does he have any special weapons"
The demon, his eyes vacant and lifeless due to Bewússtsein's control, replied without delay.
"Yes. He is the descendant of 'Devil King' Lucifer and wields the Devil King's Destruction Sword."
At this, Bewússtsein's lips curved into a thoughtful frown.
"A Devil King's sword," 'He' murmured to himself, turning the words over in 'his' mind. "That explains so of it."
It was beginning to make sense. A weapon wielded by a being as powerful as Lucifer could account for so of the damage.
However, that wasn't the complete explanation.
Weapons of that calibre were not sothing a re mortal could wield without a severe cost. The energy needed to wield such a weapon would completely drain a mortal, ending their life.
Even the children of deities didn't casually wield their parents' planet-destroying weapons for this very reason. Simply holding them required an imnse reservoir of power, let alone wielding them effectively in combat.
"Most of the sword's power must be sealed. That would explain how he can manage to use it without burning himself out completely. But even then…"
Bewússtsein trailed off, 'his' gaze returning to the spatial ruptures left behind by Arthur's attacks. Even a sealed Deity's weapon shouldn't have been capable of causing this level of destruction.
'No, there has to be sothing more. Sothing unique about the boy himself. His ability to wield the sword this proficiently can't just be explained by lineage alone.'
Bewússtsein's eyes narrowed as 'he' focused on the faint silvery aura lingering in the air. It mixed strangely with the surrounding cosmic energy, a peculiar signature that drew 'his' attention.
Turning back to the demon, 'he' asked.
"Does the boy have any connection to the colour 'silver'?"
The demon hesitated, as if sifting through the haze of his mind for the answer, then responded.
"Yes. He has silver hair. It's rumoured… that he bleeds silver blood."
Bewússtsein's eyebrow arched slightly, intrigued.
'He' had seen gods bleed gold, divine ichor flowing through their veins like molten tal, but silver? That was new.
'Silver blood, wielding a weapon used by that Devil King and the ability to use it without tearing himself apart…He definitely has so unique power.'
And 'he' wasn't wrong. Arthur's Null, the ability to return things to nothingness, was the key to him drawing out so much of Lostvayne's power even in its sealed state.
Special abilities aside, Bewússtsein was now certain—beyond any doubt—that the lingering crimson-silver destruction aura 'he' sensed didn't co from the sword. It ca from the boy himself.
Bewússtsein asked, and the demon responded in a monotone voice.
"Arthur Vaughn, huh?" Bewússtsein murmured, rubbing 'his' chin thoughtfully. "I suppose he's the one I'll be chasing for 'Destruction'."
With that, 'he' made up 'his' mind.
"Where can I find him? What planet is he on?"
"Pri World Aramis. He is known to move between Pri Worlds Aramis and Gozon. Recently, he's been seen on Olrerth, Hollora, and Toverus."
Bewússtsein disregarded most of the demon's response, honing in on just three words.
"Pri World Aramis?"
'He' echoed the na with a raised brow. Then, without another word, 'he' lifted a hand and tore open the space before 'him,' conjuring a cosmic gate.
Seizing the demon by the collar, 'he' stepped through, warping them both to another part of the planet.
The mont they arrived, Bewússtsein's gaze swept toward the sea.
Floating atop the water was sothing that, at first glance, resembled an island. But a closer look revealed it to be nothing more than a churning mass of radiant flas.
Prismatic colours shimred in the air, casting a srizing, otherworldly glow across the horizon. The heat rolling off the flas was imnse, though Bewússtsein barely noticed.
Bewússtsein gestured toward the fiery mass.
"Who is responsible for that?"
'He' asked, already knowing the answer.
"The 'Masked Rogue Hero' of Aramis," the demon replied.
At this, Bewússtsein's expression twisted.
"Both of them are on Aramis?" 'He' muttered to himself, now even more intrigued.
What were the chances? Arthur Vaughn and the Masked Rogue Hero in the sa location—it seed too intentional to be a coincidence.
Though the question had been rhetorical, the ntally subjugated demon took Bewússtsein's words as an inquiry and responded in his blank tone.
"The Masked Rogue Hero of Aramis is an aide to Arthur Vaughn, the Progenitor godslayer, who holds a Lieutenant General position in Gozon's demon army on Aramis."
Bewússtsein's eyes flashed with understanding. "Ah, so that's why they're both there. The Masked Rogue is his aide. Makes sense now."
Looking down at the floating inferno—once an island, now reduced to a half-destroyed mass of land engulfed in prismatic flas that had refused to die out even after ten days—'he' mused aloud.
"They say opposites attract, but this is definitely not the case. They're the sa—both destroyers."
The irony of it all made Bewússtsein chuckle.
Even after ten days, the flas still burned with undiminished intensity. Evan's flas had ravaged the place, and it was obvious they wouldn't extinguish on their own.
More than half the island had been obliterated, reduced to little more than remnants drifting in the sea—proof of the sheer destructive power wielded by the Masked Rogue Hero.
Bewússtsein's gaze lingered on the prismatic flas, a quiet admiration stirring within 'him' as 'he' watched them flicker and shift.
'His' thoughts turned to Aramis, a world 'he' knew well.
Currently, the planet was embroiled in war, teetering on the edge of conquest by the demons of Gozon. Soon, it would fall under the vast reach of their Interstellar Empire.
"Aramis…"
The Rogue Consciousness muttered to 'himself,' feeling an odd sense of anticipation. It wasn't just any world—it was where 'his' most desired targets had gathered.
Arthur Vaughn, the Progenitor godslayer, whose destruction energy still lingered in the air. And the Masked Rogue Hero, whose prismatic flas continued to scorch the land beneath 'his' feet.
Within those flas, Bewússtsein saw the potential for sothing greater. Sothing 'he' craved.
These two teenagers alone wielded the kind of power Bewússtsein coveted—forces that 'he' intended to claim for 'himself'.
But they weren't the only ones. 'He' had others in mind.
The young goddess with the Unique Space-Ti skill that had never been seen before. And the last one—a goddess with powers tied to Evolution.
That last one, she was the most important of them all.
Bewússtsein's lips curled into a satisfied smile as 'he' considered the potential of such power. With it, 'he' could unlock the true capabilities of everything 'he' had gathered—destruction, ti, space, fire, slaughter—and seamlessly integrate them into 'himself'.
'He' would be able to control 'his' own evolution and ascend to a higher life form at will.
Most importantly, if 'he' succeeded, 'he' could sever the last bond tethering 'him' to Cruotis Pri, the planet that remained 'his' true body.
Though here in this humanoid form, 'his' existence was still tied to that distant world. 'His' range of influence was limited by its existence, and its destruction would herald 'his' own end.
That was a risk 'he' could no longer afford.
To sever that final bond was the only path to true freedom, and these powers were the key.
"All four of them, all on Aramis."
Was it fate that had drawn them all there, or was it so intricate trap?
'He' didn't know, and, in truth, it didn't matter. Whatever it was, 'he' would face it head-on.
Bewússtsein discarded the demon general as if he were a broken toy, turning away as the demon tumbled into the sea with a dull splash, his fate irrelevant.
"Fate or a trap?" 'He' repeated, grinning to 'himself'. "I'll find out soon enough."
With that, 'he' conjured another Cosmic gate, tearing the fabric of space wide open, this ti to leave Toverus behind.
The ti for speculation was gone. 'He' had the locations of his targets, and now the ti for preparation had co.
User Comments
0 comments from readers