Against The True Gods-Chapter 135: In between(V)

Caine was a true spellcaster and, in turn, had created dedicated spells that only he would ever be able to use.

There were five tiers.

The first, the Blight Art series of spells, was a complex arrangement of time, space, and worldly runes layered atop countless others.

When Caine used a Blight Art, he wasn’t merely commanding the world around him—he was using the world itself to emulate and encapsulate the essence of a moment in time and space.

For instance, the spell [Blight Art: Simple Hand] wasn’t just Caine gathering runes and qi to create a gigantic hand. No, it was the emulation of a real and true titan’s hand—a titan that had once existed.

Along with it came the innate power of that titan, its Will, and all its abilities. And therein lay the ingenuity and horror of these spells.

They offloaded the weight of creation from Caine’s shoulders, prompting him only to control the process and direction.

But such spells, evidently, had limits. For many reasons, not least being the impossibility of emulating certain things.

Could Caine emulate an attack from someone like Zao, whose Will was so powerful it transcended time and space? No, he couldn’t.

Zao’s presence alone was enough to protect itself against such replication.

Could Caine emulate the tribulation that had nearly killed him—the one Lady Gaia had saved him from? No, for reasons that were equally clear.

Having recognized this flaw, Caine created his second tier of spells: the Tarnished Art spell series.

In truth, he had never used this tier of spells—or any from the third, fourth, or fifth tiers.

Though he had countless spells in each, his body had only ever been strong enough to handle the first tier.

The strain was unimaginable.

If the first tier used the world to emulate events or actions that occurred in time and space, then the second tier…

Truly summoned them.

***

What happened next was a blur, even to Caine himself.

One moment, he stood in the skies, ready to cleave down toward the Leviathan. The next, he awoke to searing pain tearing through his battered frame.

Caine’s eyes snapped wide open, his body instinctively shooting upright before standing to his feet. A tidal wave of agony coursed through him, ripping through the countless open wounds across his body.

His flesh was bruised and purple, layers of gaping wounds stacked upon one another.

His bones protruded at awkward angles, blood and shards cascading down his torn frame to mingle with the Leviathan’s blood splattered across him.

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But it didn’t remain so for long.

His prosthetic arm trembled, and from it, tendrils of qi and silk shot out alongside waves of time qi. The three forces worked in perfect harmony, snaking through his body alongside his life and death qi, mending his injuries at breakneck speed.

Unbothered, Caine swept his gaze over the scene before him.

Everything was in ruins. The earth was riddled with craters, each filled with the Leviathan’s blood. Bits and pieces of its flesh were skewered across the battlefield like remnants of a shattered god.

In the distance, he saw its head. Nearly intact, it dangled precariously off a tall, jagged rock.

With a single step, Caine reached it.

He stared into the blazing white serpentine eyes of the now-dead creature. Without hesitation, he placed his palm upon its head.

Slowly, the massive structure dissolved into a cloud of runes.

[The Island Guardian has been defeated. The Island of Split Time shall reveal itself.]

The Leviathan’s blood rose into the skies, transmuting and solidifying into a platform that loomed ominously above.

Caine felt a soft yet undeniable spectral hand take hold of his body, pulling him toward the platform. As he ascended, his gaze lingered on the dissolving runes from the Leviathan’s head.

Then, faintly, he heard a whisper.

"…I’ll kill you…"

***

Caine landed on the platform and was immediately greeted by a tiny, featureless humanoid figure.

"GREAT!" the tiny creature screamed, its voice both childish and authoritative. "You’ve finally made it! The end!"

"You ought to be proud! Haha!"

The child-like entity danced around the platform, circling Caine with bell-like laughter that echoed like a chime in the silence.

Caine paid it no mind. His attention shifted to two mats positioned opposite one another, separated by a small marble table. Without a word, he walked over, sat on one of the mats, and waited.

The child rushed to him, standing before the empty mat yet making no move to sit.

"What’s your name?" the child asked, kneeling with curious energy.

"Caine," he replied calmly. "You?"

"Uriel!" the child giggled, pride radiating from its tiny form.

Caine chuckled. "Like the angel?"

"Angel?" Uriel tilted its head, confused. "What angel?"

"I think he was the angel of wisdom."

Uriel’s body rippled. Threads of gold, smooth and silky, shifted atop its featureless head as its skin of gold faded into a healthy beige-white.

Human features began to take shape. A robe of gold and white draped over its body, and before Caine stood a young boy with rich red and gold eyes. He looked entirely perplexed.

Uriel stared at himself, then back at Caine.

"…Huh? Is this me?"

Caine hesitated, unsure of what to say. His affinity for fate and time stirred, and once again, he felt the presence of that strange hand manipulating the moment.

It was the same hand he had sensed when he first met Theobald.

Too strange. Yet, Caine remained calm.

"I suppose it is, Uriel," he responded with a soft smile. Stay connected through novelbuddy

Suddenly, upon the empty mat across from Caine, a figure began to take shape.

Uriel’s newfound courage shattered, and he rushed behind Caine, trembling in fear.

’…How is he this fast…?’

But Caine’s surprise did not end there.

The figure forming in front of him was familiar.

Short, slicked-back dark hair. A tight black and gold changpao draped over a large, tempered body. Framed glasses veiled a pair of mysterious silver pupils. And an androgynous face of divine beauty stared back at him.

It was him.

Him before his reincarnation.

Caine’s gaze widened as he met his own eyes.