DIVINE BANE-Chapter 78: the birth of UNKNOWN

"And still... he tried, he tried to hold it together. He fed the starving, taught the forgotten, brought peace to places drowning in decay. And for a time... they loved him."

A bitter smile twisted his lips.

"Until the saint from the Sanctuary stood up and said, 'He might be dangerous.' Just might. " He let out a breath like a laugh with the joy stripped away.

"And that one word... was all it took."

Zander's hands clenched at his sides.

"The people he saved the same ones who owed him their lives turned on us. Stripped away our home, our titles, our worth."

He paused, voice thickening.

"That didn't break us."

His jaw tightened.

"What broke us... was what they did to the ones we loved."

He stared into the flickering lantern, and for a moment, he wasn't speaking to the shadow.

"Aurora... she stood with us. Even when everything collapsed. She stayed loyal to the end"

His voice cracked.

"And they caught her , dragged her to the capital and crucified her in front of all."

The lantern light in the room dimmed.

Zander's face darkened, shadowed by a fury too vast for words.

"Anyone in that crowd... anyone... could've stood up. Could've said, 'She's just a child.' Could've said, 'This is wrong.'" His voice cracked, low and trembling.

"But no one did."

He paused, then spat the words like venom.

"Instead, they screamed 'Burn the witch.'"

His hands curled into fists, trembling.

"And then, one by one... they slaughtered everyone we loved. Our friends. Our family. Every last one of them."

A sound rose from his chest, raw and broken. Not quite a sob. Not quite a growl.

"Zed watched." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"And when it was over... he didn't cry. There was only silence in his eyes, like he'd seen it a thousand times before. Like his soul had gone numb from the weight of it."

He looked up again, eyes glassy but unyielding.

" but I...with tear in my eyes I watched them all burn "

"I lived through every scream, every loss, every betrayal."

zanders shadows twisted, writhing in sync with the anguish bleeding from his soul.

"Zed tried to change fate. Again and again. But it mocked him. Tortured him. Until finally... he killed himself."

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His voice dropped into a whisper, colder than steel.

"That's when I understood. Light wasn't enough to change destiny. It never was. But Zed... no matter how many times he died... he never chose darkness."

He exhaled, slow and broken.

"So I did. I chose it for him. I'll carry the burden. I'll endure the pain. I'll become the monster for him-"

Zander paused, a fleeting vision of Zed flashing in his mind: a man shattered like a cracked vase, barely holding together.

"-so that Zed can live a normal life. This time... I won't let him suffer."

His final words were a whisper.

"That's how I find peace, for both of us."

The shadow did not flinch.

It remained still, flickering like smoke bound by unseen chains. When it finally spoke, its voice was soft not loud, but ancient, heavy with truth.

"Pain and suffering are inevitable for those with kind hearts and great knowledge."

Its eyes or what looked like it , burned like coals beneath ash.

"To remember is to bleed. To know... is to endure."

It stepped forward, its form blurring at the edges, as though reality itself resisted it. The lantern's flame pulsed, dim and trembling.

Then came a whisper neither kind nor cruel, but something in between:

"You are no longer mortal, Zander. You are memory with flesh. There is no peace for those who know too much about this world. The only thing that await you is endless suffering "

The air still burned with the scent of blood and summoning. The runes around the circle dimmed to a weary red.

Zander didn't flinch. He nodded once, slowly.

"I know," he murmured.

"But if my suffering can free Zed from his curse... if it can give him even a sliver of happiness..."His voice hardened with quiet resolve.

"Then I'll take it all. Gladly."

The shadow was silent for a long breath, as though savoring the weight of that vow. Then, at last, it asked:

"final question... What will you do with my authority?"

Zander's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk. As if the power already pulsed beneath his skin.

"I'll make them pay."

His voice was sharp and certain, honed like a blade.

"All eight dev and there clans. I'll carve their names into history with blood. And that saint... I'll make sure he screams before the end."

His eyes gleamed, hungry, merciless.

"I'll -----------" zander continued.

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The shadow gave a wide, terrible grin pleased, as though it had just fed on Zander's hate and found it exquisite.

"Then rise, Zander," it whispered, voice echoing like a curse carried by windless night.

"From this moment forth, my authority is yours to wield."

At once, Ishtar's lifeless body was drawn into the shadow like smoke pulled into a void. Her form unraveled, disappearing without sound. The crimson light from the ritual surged then wrapped around Zander, lifting him into the air.

His body began to glow, faint at first... then brighter, seething with red energy that pulsed like a heartbeat gone mad.

The blood circle beneath him fractured, its lines splitting and dissolving into the floor. The summoning faded. The shadow began to withdraw, its form unraveling like ash caught in a forgotten wind.

But before it vanished, it extended what could only loosely be called a hand .

From the void of its palm, something ancient emerged.

A black-gold ring, etched in glyphs too old to be named, hovered in the air. It hummed with a resonance so deep, it didn't touch the ears but the soul and it made the soul flinch.

It hovered before Zander, suspended in an unnatural stillness, as if time itself had been held in place.

"For your pain," the shadow intoned, voice now solemn. "And your defiance."

Zander's gaze sharpened. He could feel it. This wasn't a gift. This was a pact. A test in disguise.

The shadow spoke again.

"The Ring of Solomon."

Even the name felt like prophecy.

"Forged when Aryans still feared Fallens. Bound to 65 lower Asuras and 7 higher Asuras who embody all 7 deadly sins."

Its voice dropped to a silk-draped whisper, cold as winter steel.

"With it, you may command them... if they deem you worthy. But should you fail..."

The ring trembled, a soundless, malevolent chuckle vibrating through the air.

"...they will consume you. Slowly. From the inside out. Until you are nothing but a vessel for their eternal hunger."

Zander hearing that extended his hand without hesitation.

The ring looked ancient, blackened gold with an unnatural gleam guided by unseen forces. It landed cold and heavy in his palm, humming with a malevolence that made the air around it thrum.

Zander stared at it for a bit, then closed his fingers around the relic, then slipped it into his pocket.

The shadow gave no final words only a silent nod of acknowledgment, as if an ancient pact had been fulfilled.

Then it faded, dissolving into wisps of smoke and ink, vanishing back into the darkness from which it came.

And just like that, the storm lifted.

The clouds unraveled, retreating across the sky as if afraid. Moonlight broke through the darkness, casting long, cold shadows across the room.

The world exhaled.

But Zander did not.

He stood still in the silence, the wind brushing past the remnants of ritual ash. Then, slowly, he stretched out his arm, fingers trembling, not from fear, but from the weight of triumph.

"Finally," he whispered, his voice dry, trembling with something between exhaustion and madness.

"My efforts paid off."

A bitter grin cracked across his face.

"This time, we can have our revenge zed."

Laughter erupted from his throat, harsh and unhinged. It echoed off the walls like a broken hymn. No joy. Just release raw and manic.

"I got the authority now," he hissed through clenched teeth, veins bulging at his neck. "And now..."

His expression twisted into something cruel, something ancient.

"It's there turn to suffer. I'll drag them into the deepest pit of Naraka... and I'll make them bleed."

Zander's laughter dwindled into a breathless whisper, his chest rising and falling as if the madness had momentarily left his lungs hollow.

Then he straightened, a slow, deliberate motion one that carried the finality of a man who had chosen his war.

He slid the ring deeper into his pocket, fingers brushing against it like a relic long-desired.

His eyes lifted to the sky, dark lashes framing the inferno glowing behind them.

"Now..." he said, voice low and venom-laced,

"for my first revenge."

A pause.

His lips curled into a predatory smirk.

"Uriel."

The name tasted like blood and fire on his tongue.

"I'm coming."