Empyrean Blacksmith Chapter 499: Primeval

CHAPTER 499

PRIMEVAL

Lino had found himself dragged out of Noterra all of a sudden, flung through the chaotic swirls of s.p.a.cetime, thrust into the realm of remarkable affinity. He felt reborn inside the rivers and churns of Chaos, the world abound with what endowed him. Above and beyond, the slithers of crimson light danced in eternal swirls, the sky above bound in the blackness beyond match, surrounding objects barely illuminated by the rare flashes of crimson.

He appeared to be standing on the hilly plain, surrounded by dying moss and vines, and crevices spreading like spiderwebs across the mounds. Somewhere deep below, he could see the pulsating flashes of fires, as though they resided in the bowels of this world.

Looking up, his expression turned to a frown; what were just over one hundred Primes, now included hundreds of thousands of amalgamations and abominations of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were even Primal Spirits, dancing still detached from the reality of things.

Though he couldn't see Ella anywhere, he was hardly worried for her; she would be just fine on her own. As would he, really, he mused. The problem was that the additional numbers would prolong his stay here, which could complicate things on the other side. A sensation of anxiousness overwhelmed him for a moment before he spat it out, relaxing once more.

"Welcome to our Homeworld, Bearer," the one he spoke to before arriving here, the tall giant without features, spoke out once more. "What do you think of it?"

"... lovely," Lino shrugged. "But, unfortunately, I've no time to admire the aesthetics. Or to chat with you lot. You've avowed to serve the Chaos -- yet now you wage a war against it."

"Oh? You are the Chaos?"

"... I am," Lino replied simply, spreading out his right arm, summoning the Edge. The blade hummed and cried in melodic tunes, its light bursting out in rays, s.h.i.+ning away the surrounding dark. "Are you?"

"... ha ha ha, I suppose Father does pick the formative lads the most," the creature laughed, supported by dozens of others. "You know nothing of Chaos, Bearer. You're an infant, standing in the presence of those who birthed you."

"This is my requiem," Lino spoke through his teeth, Qi within him churning, revitalized by the surrounding quant.i.ty. "You would have done just fine if you stayed out of it. Now... now you'll have to die."

"I'd like to see that--"

The ground beneath Lino lit up like the nightly sky, patterns swirling in crimson hues, pillars and beams of light s.h.i.+ning up. All of a sudden, eighteen pairs of wings unfurled behind his back, the clutter immeasurable, their size eclipsing the giant creature grandly. Lino seemed a tiny figure in the sensation, yet impervious to everything at the same time.

With a deep, resounding bellow, he shot toward the sky, the Edge in his hand bleeding light like blood, his entire body coated in a holistic fas.h.i.+on, a mix of dark and bright.

He flew across like a star in the sky falling upward, illuminating the world he phased through. He felt alive -- truly alive -- here, in this hallowed place of Chaos. His lips curled up into an involuntarily smile, his heart dancing in jitters. For the first time in years, if not decades, he held no inhibitions; even when he fought Ashtar, he held back slightly -- keeping a trace of himself at bay, something to fall back onto in case things went south. Not this time.

He reached the tall creature immediately, switching the Edge to the reverse grip as he extended his free, left arm; his hand opened up in a motion of grabbing someone's throat as light shot out from his fingers, projecting into a ma.s.sive hand that matched the giant's neck, wrapping around it immediately. Lino jerked, pulling the giant creature forward, destabilizing him. Though it lacked features, Lino could still see the shock and fear in it. Before it had a chance to mount a defensive, Lino curled his finger tightly around the Edge's handle and sliced across the throat, splitting the head clean off its body. The latter fell, smothered, turning to ash, while he held the former in his freehand for a moment before tossing it backwards as though it were an ordinary pebble.

His actions greatly unsettled the rest of the Primes, though it didn't freeze them; rather, they immediately began backing away and building room, trying to circle him and suffocate him with a barrage.

Sucking in a deep breath, completely recovering his Qi and Vitality, even increasing them due to the kill, another pair of wings suddenly grew from his back, the resplendence and the darkness growing even more monumental in the process. The Edge in his hand trembled, weeping in joy, as his feet shone in brilliant sparks of crimson lightning. A flutter of wings later had him nearly ten miles sideways, right in front of the small group of five-six Primes. Most seemed more abominations than creatures, deformed versions of a proper lifeform that no-doubt existed someplace, sometime.

Lino spun in a full circle, bladed lights s.h.i.+ning off the Edge like the torrential rain; the sword had no equal -- it wouldn't allow itself to have an equal. It sliced through all of creation, no matter how st.u.r.dy it may be. The bodies of the Primes exploded into ga.s.sed excretions, the stench quite lethargy-inducing.

A beam of Chaos bolted against Lino's back, sending him stumbling through the sky for a moment; despite the fact that he was of Chaos, he could still be hurt by it. Chaos was not privy to anyone; one may use it as they see fit, but they can never command it completely -- similarly to Time. It's a quintessential element, the Engine of Creation, the glue that held all of everything together. Something like that could not be tamed.

Wincing briefly, Lino spun around and shot back, leaving a trail of brilliant light and shadow wherever he pa.s.sed. The skies were void of storms, much to his surprise, as his foes separated into groups of three-four each. They're just buying time, Lino realized immediately, quickly noticing that they seemed to have no desire to try and actually kill him. Why?

A sizzling sound trickled to his left ear, causing him to rapidly spin and stab the Edge from above toward below at an angle, piercing something rather soft in the process. Laying his eyes on it, he saw that it was a creature that seemed more like a liquid than something dense. Despite that, however, it didn't matter; if it could not be sliced to pieces, it could be evaporated -- the Edge left none alive.

While defending himself from one side, an array of attacks were hurled at him from every other imaginable angle -- some of Chaos, some of the other Elements thrown at him by the Spirits. Some attacks he ignored, some he deflected, and some wiggled their way through his defenses and struck at him. They were not deadly sort, he immediately realized, but the ilk meant to slow him down further. A few slowed down his Qi gathering speed, a few his general speed, some the radius of his attacks... more than afraid, he was frustrated. They dragged him in here not to fight him, but to keep him away from the Noterra.

"--you can't use it--"

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," Lino interrupted Ataxia harshly as he looked toward the sliver worming about in his soul.

Dipping into the finite deserves of the Primal Chaos, he felt his body recover, his strength skyrocket. Qi around him turned corporeal, more so than the visible Chaos in the skies, s.h.i.+ning in dark-red. His Heaven-set Armor suddenly changed; black metal surfaced above the silver one, armguards spiked as they reached the elbow, shoulderpads expanding to thrice their size, denting inwardly toward the center whereupon a chaotic swirl of crimson rotated midair. His breastplate grew two fingers thicker, similarly blacked in hue, trails of red arrays spurring about like veins. A similar thing happened to his leggings and greaves, his cape turning dark-red, expanding in size to over two dozen meters, fluttering like an extension of himself backwardly.

It wasn't just his armor that changed -- it was him as well. His one eye turned wholly black, a single, red dot at the center s.h.i.+ning, spitting out jets of red smoke. The contour of his face grew more angled, all his features moving upward at their edges, including his eyes and brows. His black hair turned ethereally white at that moment, lacking a single blemish, radiating a holy glow that appeared a stark contrast to the rest of him.

An exact replica of the Edge appeared in his freehand, the difference being the similar, stark contrast of colors -- what was holy-white, was now pure-black. He looked more a contradiction, a paradox, a combination of opposites, than anything even remotely human. Rather, he ceased being human as his skin attained a scarlet tinge, stretching out till it folded over his facial bones, giving him a rather grotesque appearance.

Just at that moment, his decade-closed eye jolted open all of a sudden, a reverse of his healthy one -- crimson around, a single dot of black resting in the center, belting out black smoke from the edges.

As all else began to settle, the s.p.a.ce above his head jostled and turned, looping unto itself for a moment, breaking and repairing, forming a corporeal object -- a singular crown. Spiked in a full ring, black, white and red in hue, it smoked like a chimney, complementing his abominable appearance even more.

"... this is how your world ends," his voice, distorted beyond recognition, inhuman down to the last sound. "In Chaos so primeval, yours was not even an infant just yet."

He vanished into the thick billow of smoke, his figure projecting into a world-bounding avatar, his eyes looking down from beyond the high-skies; it was terrifying, the sheer output of Qi. It shook all of the creation resting in the strange world, forcing it to kneel down immediately, shaking. It was the sort of fear that could not be broken, could not be restrained. It was the ilk that had to be obeyed.

Lino's much smaller figure began flas.h.i.+ng through the world, his two swords slicing heads off in swift and clean motions. He left behind a trail of afterimages, the light itself catching up to his actions slowly. By the time he was done, there were no living left. There was nothing left but the scenery of Desolation. The end of everything.