ShadowBound: The Need For Power Chapter 513: Echoes Of The Past (6)

The image of Azareth wavered like molten glass, and soon, before Liam’s eyes, the realm of endless crimson storms unfolded. A sea of black clouds twisted overhead, streaked with blood-red lightning that tore the heavens apart with thunderous screams. The ground was a charred wasteland of cracked obsidian and rivers of molten brimstone, stretching endlessly beneath a blood-soaked sky. The stench of sulfur and death hung thick in the air. Aesmirius floated beside Liam, his voice echoing calmly.

"This," he began, his tone calm but heavy with rembrance, "was where the war between and Volgath began. Though I was greatly outnumbered, that was not what made it difficult. The true problem... was having to deal with Volgath himself—while his children stalked the edges of the battlefield. The Demon Lords."

The image flared, showing Aesmirius standing in the middle of a hellish plain, surrounded by an army of monstrous forms. Their screeches echoed through the void as their claws tore into the ground, eager to devour their prey. His figure was luminous in comparison—blinding even—his body sheathed in white-gold and dark violet light that fought desperately against the oppressive crimson of Azareth.

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the scene unfold. "There are ten demon lords," he muttered, his voice low. "So that ant you had to deal with all ten of them while fighting Volgath?"

Aesmirius shook his head, the corners of his mouth twisting faintly. "No. During my ti, Volgath had only four offspring—the first of his kin. The Demon Lord of Infernos, the Demon Lord of Blood, the Demon Lord of Anathema, and the Demon Lord of Void." His gaze turned toward the burning horizon where four colossal silhouettes erged from the smoke. "Each was a horror of creation and destruction, carved from the bones of chaos itself. And each could have leveled entire realms on their own."

The battlefield ca alive around them as the visions moved—like living mories burning to life. Aesmirius raised a hand and the scene magnified. Flas erupted from the ground as the Demon Lord of Infernos appeared, a hulking titan whose very body burned with liquid magma, its veins glowing like fissures in the earth. The sky tore open again to reveal a swarm of blood mist swirling into the form of the Blood Demon Lord—an abomination with dozens of crimson eyes glaring from within its ever-shifting body. The Anathema Demon Lord slithered out of nothingness, its form constantly changing, as if reality couldn’t decide what shape it should take. And then ca the last—the Void Demon Lord, whose re presence drained color and sound from the world, leaving behind a silence that gnawed at the mind.

"They were his children," Aesmirius said coldly. "Each born from a different fracture of his essence. Their power was imnse—tethered directly to Volgath’s own heart."

The image shifted again, showing Aesmirius standing firm against them. Beams of celestial energy and demonic fire clashed, tearing mountains apart like sandcastles. The blade of great sword, glowing with radiant white, cut through waves of darkness as explosions ripped through the horizon.

"In all honesty," Aesmirius continued, voice calm despite the storm, "the battle could have turned in my favor—had it not been fought here, in Azareth. The realm itself is alive, feeding its strength into its ruler. Every strike I made was resisted by the world around . Every breath I took was defiance. It granted Volgath and his legion an upper hand... while it weakened with every mont."

Liam frowned, his tone laced with a hint of annoyance. "Then why didn’t you just teleport out of there? It seems obvious enough."

"I couldn’t," Aesmirius replied. "Volgath had sealed the dinsional boundaries of Azareth long before the battle even began. His realm devours any attempt to breach it from within. My portals collapsed before they could even form." His gaze darkened, and for a brief second, the mory around them flickered—showing the mont his attempt at escape imploded into a torrent of blinding energy. "So, if I was going to survive, I had two options: fight to the bitter end with half a chance of survival... or find a way to weaken Volgath enough to force a way out."

Liam tilted his head. "And which one did you choose?"

Aesmirius allowed himself a small smirk. "Both."

The projection brightened—showing the godlike figure of Aesmirius surging forward into the infernal storm. Every swing of his weapon sent arcs of white energy cleaving through hordes of demons. His aura burned brighter than any star, illuminating the entire battlefield. "I fought Volgath and his children for days. Maybe weeks. Ti held no aning there. Their numbers were endless, their rage boundless. But one by one, I drove them apart—isolated the Demon Lords from their King. I destroyed the armies surrounding , and when I finally stood before Volgath alone... that was when I struck."

The scene zood in—Volgath hovering in the air as his wings stretched wide, covering the skies. His black eyes locked solely onto Aesmirius. The two forces collided, light and darkness clashing in a cataclysm that tore through Azareth itself. Planes of existence buckled beneath their power.

"I damaged his essence that day," Aesmirius said, his tone lowering, almost proud and satisfied. "I ripped him of more than half his power. I cut through the core of his being and forced his realm to bend to my will long enough to escape. So, no—I wouldn’t call it an escape. I’d call it survival through victory."

He turned to face Liam, his expression calm but shadowed by the weight of the mory. "Though I survived, I was... injured beyond asure. Volgath’s attacks carved deeper than flesh or soul. Healing them was nearly impossible. Even with my control over Aetherion, the wounds refused to nd. But eventually, I adapted and endured."

The projection faded into a quiet aftermath—a field of ashes and corpses, rivers of molten blood flowing where armies once stood. Aesmirius stood alone, his body burned and torn, but his eyes still alive with grim triumph.

"It took ages to heal. Barely," he went on softly. "But I knew that it would take Volgath even longer. Centuries. Millennia, perhaps. He’d need that ti to regenerate what I stripped from him. But when he finally did... when he rose again... it would not be just him returning. His children would have evolved as well. They’d have grown stronger and smarter.

Liam stood expressionless as his eyes followed the fading remnants of the battlefield. "So you knew he’d co for you again."

Aesmirius gave a short, humorless laugh. "He always would. His hatred for burns as deep as the void itself. And he did not waste ti." His voice hardened. "As the centuries passed, the realms I once visited began to fall. Volgath’s legion moved like a plague across creation—invading, devouring, annihilating. Entire civilizations disappeared into his maw. Even my own progeny—those who inherited fragnts of my power—were hunted and slain."

The air around them dimd as countless burning worlds appeared across the horizon, each crumbling beneath demonic banners. Screams echoed faintly through the projection like whispers of the dead.

"I fought when I could," Aesmirius said. "But it beca clear that the tide was turning. The cosmos was being rewritten by his touch, and I could no longer fight everywhere at once. I needed to retreat—to regroup, to grow stronger." His tone deepened with faint disdain. "So I rembered a realm—distant, hidden, forgotten by even the gods. A world untouched by the wars of the higher planes. A place so buried beneath creation that it would take centuries before Volgath’s corruption reached it."

He looked back at Liam, his gaze calm but piercing. "Amthar. My ho realm."

The projection stilled. The last echoes of Azareth’s destruction faded away, leaving behind only silence. Aesmirius’s expression softened for a brief mont, almost unreadable. "I descended there not to hide—but to prepare. To rebuild the strength I had lost. I thought... perhaps, if I remained long enough, I could forge sothing new—sothing that could one day rival Volgath’s dominion."

For a mont, the only sound was the faint hum of the mystic energy around them. Liam stood still, watching the dying light fade from the illusion. His expression, calm as ever, revealed only a hint of thoughtfulness.

"Amthar..." Liam murmured. "Guess even gods need a ho to crawl back to when they get their asses handed to them."