(Planet Ixtal, Soron’s Castle, Leo’s POV)
The heavy folds of Soron’s robe slipped down from his shoulders, and in that mont the breath in Leo’s chest caught, his world narrowing to the frail body revealed before him.
Across Soron’s chest and abdon stretched scars that did not look like scars at all, but open wounds frozen in ti, glistening with a slick black fluid that oozed sluggishly yet never fell, as though his flesh itself had been cursed to bleed without end.
Dark veins pulsed faintly around the injuries, throbbing and writhing, fighting desperately to stitch shut what simply refused to heal, as the sight alone felt like a contradiction to every law of life Leo had ever known.
And then he saw the Green.
Without warning, a vibrant green aura blazed around Soron’s figure, so bright and thick that Leo’s vision nearly blurred trying to contain it, yet laced throughout that brilliance were countless fractures where the blackness seeped out like poison, dripping across the light but never extinguishing it.
"Do you see it now, boy? Do you see his will to survive?" Charles asked, as at that mont, from within that bright green aura sprouted thin lines of intent, luminous threads that bound Soron to Charles and then to Leo, the connections subtle yet undeniable, as if the God’s very existence was tethered to theirs in ways neither of them could yet comprehend.
Leo’s stomach turned, his pulse racing as he touched one of the Green Intent lines, and as soon as he did, he felt the reason behind Soron still hanging on.
*GASP*
Leo gasped for air, as he realized that Soron was still holding on because he had no successor to pass on the throne.
He was holding on, because neither Charles, nor him, were ready to replace him yet.
And hence, he suffered.
Not because he was afraid to die.
But because he was afraid of dying without an heir.
’This man should not be alive—’ Leo realized, as from his perspective every breath that Soron drew seed to claw its way through lungs that were half-rotted.
From his eyes, every faint tremor of Soron’s hands carried the weight of flesh refusing to obey, every flicker of his aura scread of a battle being waged unceasingly within his body—yet still, he sat before them, not only alive, but smiling with a quiet, almost paternal calm.
The sheer willpower it must have taken to remain seated at this table, to pour tea with shaking hands, to wear the mask of dignity when his very body sought to betray him... Leo could not fathom it.
’What kind of man could endure this?’
’What kind of a God is he to still remain unbroken beneath this suffering that should have killed him centuries ago?’
Leo wondered, as he bowed his head reverently before Soron.
"These are Origin Blade scars..... The only tal that can hurt Gods.
But you may call it nature’s way of cursing Divinity." Soron said, as Leo listened with a sharp mind.
"I received these injuries 2200 years ago, during the Great Betrayal.....
At first I remained alive because I wanted to avenge my father’s death.
And hence, despite these injuries, I clung onto life with a passion.
However, now, I’m only holding on because my death would spell the end of the Cult.
And so, I save what remains of my strength for the days when the Cult’s survival demands it most." He confessed, as Leo finally understood why Soron was never around to look after the Cult’s day to day operations.
It wasn’t that he did not care.
It was just that he did not have the strength left in him to fight every battle.
*Cough*
*Cough*
He coughed gently, before covering his body up again, as he sat back down and sipped on so hot tea to soothe his throat.
"The will to survive... I hope I showed you what you ca for." Soron said, as Leo bowed deeply, his heart genuinely feeling moved by Soron’s magnanimity today.
It surely must not have been easy for the Great God to reveal his weak side to soone.
Especially to a notorious kid like Leo.
However, he did so anyway, and Leo was thankful for it.
"Lord Soron.... If you don’t mind, may I ask you sothing?" Leo asked, as Soron smiled gently once more, and gestured for him to go on.
"This Origin tal Blade that cut you, is it sothing super rare?" Leo questioned, as Soron chuckled at his words.
"Origin tal is the rarest elent in the universe.
It was created in trace amounts during the birth of the universe, and has never been reproduced since.
It’s a tal that was created at the birth of ti, and hence, it’s the only tal that can hurt beings who are beyond ti." Soron answered, as Leo’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"So of all the Gods..... who all possess this rare tal?" He continued, as Soron now felt his interest piqued at Leo’s line of questioning.
"Of all the Gods I know, the only ones who are in possession of significant quantities of origin tal would be my brother, Kaelith, who stole my father’s origin blades.
Moltherak, the ancient Dragon, who possessed teeth coated with Origin tal.
And Zhanrok, who died protecting his two origin tal ingots." Soron said, as Leo felt his heart skip a couple beats.
Up till now, he had absolutely no clue that Origin tal was so rare, or that its real use was to kill Gods, as if he did, he would have never given up one of the two ingots he stole to Dupravel after stealing them from Zhanrok.
’Shit, Shit, Shit.... Didn’t Dupravel say that he gave that ingot to a God nad Mauriss....?’ Leo recalled, as during one of their casual conversations recently, Dupravel had inford him of what he did with that tal once Leo had turned it over.
At the ti, Leo didn’t think much of it.
However, only now did he realize the severity of it.
"What’s with you boy? Why do you suddenly look pale?" Charles asked, as Leo let out a dry cough.
*Cough*
"Uhm.... So, I have so good news, and so bad news.... Which do you wish to hear first?" He asked, as he alternated a nervous gaze between Charles and Soron.
User Comments
0 comments from readers