ShadowBound: The Need For Power Chapter 511: Echoes Of The Past (4)

The glow of Aetherion’s fading mory still lingered in the air like the remnants of a divine dream when Liam finally broke the silence between them. His voice was low, carrying that rough, grounded tone of confusion wrapped in awe.

"So... wait," Liam muttered, narrowing his eyes as the faint shimr of the Well of Genesis flickered away, "if you absorbed Aetherion and beca one with her, doesn’t that make you—well—a god? I an, if you were the embodint of this place, shouldn’t you still be out there? How did you end up like this? Why are you stuck in instead of reigning over everything like so eternal cosmic ruler?"

Aesmirius’s gaze shifted toward him, a slow, heavy sigh escaping his lips. His expression darkened with sothing between exhaustion and rembrance. "Ah, Liam," he began, voice echoing faintly through the empty divine space around them, "that’s the illusion of divinity. Even when one wields the power to shape reality, it doesn’t an eternity bows before them. Power grants dominion, yes—but not endlessness."

He lifted a hand, and the light around them rippled like glass under a hamr. "To mortals, I was a god. Untouchable. Unfathomable. But against another being who shared the sa balance of creation and destruction—I was rely prey waiting for its day."

Liam’s brow furrowed, his tone halfway between disbelief and intrigue. "Wait... are you saying there was soone like you? Another Aetherion-level being?"

Aesmirius turned his glowing eyes toward him, and for a heartbeat, there was a flicker of genuine caution in them. "Yes," he replied quietly. "There was one. The Demon Emperor—Volgath."

The mont that na left his lips, the very air seed to thicken. Liam blinked, his body tensing. "Volgath? As in, the king of the Demon Realm?"

Before he could ask anything else, the world around them began to shift. The floating sands and gentle light of Aetherion gave way to a new scenery—ashen ruins, once beautiful spires turned to dust and light.

Aesmirius’s voice began to roll through the scene like distant thunder.

"After I beca Aetherion," he said, "I did what any fool with newfound omnipotence might. I returned to Oline, the realm that birthed my suffering. The place that mocked my frailty and scorned my existence."

The scene solidified—showing a young, godlike Aesmirius descending from a sky of burning light, eyes afla in golden brilliance, the people of Oline screaming below. The world cracked under his presence alone. Cities burned like parchnt. Mountains split apart. Rivers of molten light cut through the land.

"I slaughtered them," Aesmirius continued calmly, almost too calmly, "every last one that I deed unworthy. I turned their sanctuaries into ash and drowned their pride in the blood of their own kin. My wrath nearly tore Oline apart. Yet... in the end, I rebuilt it. Not from guilt—no. But from sothing else. A strange whisper I couldn’t explain. Perhaps Aetherion’s lingering will, or perhaps... my own vanity."

The scene changed again, showing Aesmirius standing before a gleaming new realm, his expression unreadable as he raised his hand and restored life to the empty land. "I called it Amthar," he said. "A realm of renewal for the remnants who survived my destruction. It beca the world your kind now knows."

Liam placed his hands in his pockets, shaking his head slightly. "So basically... you went full divine ltdown, killed a ton of people because you were petty, and then got all philosophical about it after?"

Aesmirius’s jaw tightened, a faint twitch forming at the corner of his eye. "Watch your tongue, boy," he warned, though his voice remained composed.

"I an," Liam shrugged, his face blunt as always, "I’m just saying. You sound like one of those old dudes who flip the table, break everything, then go, ’Hm. Maybe I did overreact.’"

Aesmirius exhaled sharply and turned away, muttering, "You test the patience of a godling, Liam Hunter."

But he didn’t argue further. Instead, the world began to shift again.

"I rebuilt," Aesmirius continued, his tone returning to that ethereal calm. "And then... I wandered. From one realm to the next, traversing creation as a scholar, conqueror, and beast all in one form. I saw realms shimring with light and others rotting in chaos. So fascinated . So disgusted . There were tis when simply existing in their presence ignited sothing dark inside —sothing that demanded destruction."

Visions unfolded like pages of an ancient chronicle. Vast worlds spiraled past Liam’s eyes—crystal cities hanging in clouds, oceans of silver fire, forests made of living starlight. Each one either flourishing under Aesmirius’s touch or crumbling under his wrath.

"I rebuilt realms," Aesmirius said, "when I found beauty in them. Destroyed others when their ugliness sickened . Those who fought burned. Those who intrigued lived. And through it all, I indulged."

Liam’s brow arched slightly. "Indulged?"

Aesmirius looked faintly amused now. "You mortals call it desire. Lust. Hunger. I took pleasure where I found it—in forms and beings that could withstand . So I destroyed after; others I allowed to linger. So bore my essence in them. My children—though few could truly call themselves my kin. Most were fleeting sparks."

Liam blinked slowly. "So, what you’re saying is... that there are multiple realms crawling with your illegitimate divine kids?"

Aesmirius smirked faintly. "If they still exist, yes. Though most were consud by ti or my own hand. I had grown... tired of attachnts. They slowed the pulse of power within ."

The tone shifted then—his voice deepening, turning grim. "And yet, after countless ages, I stumbled upon sothing I had never encountered before. A realm unlike the others—black skies, crimson rivers, a pulse of life that reeked of fury and hatred. It was not born of Myst, nor Aetherion’s song, but sothing older. Sothing primal."

The images twisted, showing a dark expanse with jagged peaks, molten skies, and creatures moving in shadows. The air itself looked alive—alive with hunger.

"That was Azareth," Aesmirius said slowly, eyes narrowing as the mory filled the air around them. "The Demon Realm."

And in that mont, Liam could feel it—the oppressive heat, the malice thick as smoke.

Aesmirius’s gaze grew distant, the faint glow of his irises reflecting sothing ancient and haunted. "And that," he murmured, "was where I t him—Volgath. The being who stood as my equal... and my undoing."

The mory of Azareth unfurled before Liam like a nightmare painted in living color. The realm’s skies churned with black fire, rivers of molten crimson cutting across lands of obsidian and ash. Jagged towers rose like the teeth of an ancient beast, pulsing with veins of glowing red that throbbed in rhythm with the slow, monstrous heartbeat of the realm itself.

But before Liam could even draw in a full breath, a sudden pain struck him. Sharp, splitting, and deep. His vision blurred, the weight of the scene pressing against his mind like a tidal wave of raw energy. He stumbled forward, one hand clutching his temple as the other pressed against the void beneath his feet, his body trembling from the sheer strain.

Aesmirius turned, his eyes narrowing—not with concern, but irritation. "What is it now?" he asked flatly, the edges of his tone carrying that detached authority that ca from eons of self-worship. "Are you falling apart already, mortal?"

Liam gritted his teeth, keeping his balance as he forced his breathing to steady. "No..." he managed, voice hoarse but steady. "I’m fine. Just—" He exhaled slowly, forcing the pressure down as his head throbbed. "Guess the recoil of being dragged this far into the past is catching up to . Feels like my skull’s splitting open from the inside." He straightened his back, blinking through the dizzy haze as the burning landscape of Azareth pulsed around them. "But I can handle it. Just... skip the unnecessary crap and stick to the main story, yeah? I’ll live."

Aesmirius studied him in silence for a mont, the glow of his eyes reflecting the rivers of fire beneath their feet. He tilted his head slightly, a faint sneer ghosting across his face. "See that you do. I would rather not have you collapsing here and bleeding your mortal essence across my domain. The last thing I want is for your frail mind to stain this place."

Liam let out a faint, dry chuckle, wiping a small trickle of blood from the corner of his nose. "Yeah, well, that makes two of us," he said, voice calm despite the flicker of pain in his tone. "I don’t wanna be here any longer than I have to."

For a mont, the air between them went still, the silence heavy and tense. Then, with an indifferent wave of his hand, Aesmirius turned his gaze back toward the fiery expanse stretching endlessly before them.

"Very well," Aesmirius said at last, his tone low and final. "Let us continue."