Echoes of the Abyssal Blade: Path to Free Will-Chapter 45: Transcendent Binding

For a moment, the battlefield seemed to freeze, the ancestors and their spirits stood together, facing the abomination with a united front, the air was thickening with tension, and even the abomination seemed to pause, its eyes flicking between the mighty spirits and the beast ancestors.

Noticing the ancestors of beasts going all out by calling forth their spirits, the abomination’s face turned grim. It thought, "From the looks of it, I will also have to go all out." The abomination made hand gestures and spat blood, "I should have killed all of you one by one, waiting for you all to offer yourselves to me, but instead I get this humiliation, I will be sure to savor chewing your bones," it muttered in twisted fury.

Hearing its battle cry, they were not afraid of it, but still its words made them unsettled, and with a cry, they charged.

Rogarn, who was shining in red flames collided with the abomination first, the earth shaking beneath their clash, the titan figure and the abomination locked in a brutal contest of strength, their massive forms crashing against each other with deafening force, the bestial army behind them were also wounded as the result of their might

Valha’s wolf spirit came after, its claws ripping through the body of the abomination, its jaws snapping at its exposed throat, the abomination recoiled, but the wolf spirit of the ethereal was relentless, biting and clawing at every exposed opening.

Thunderboar entered the fight, tusks piercing the abomination’s sides, electricity shockwaves coursing through its frame, the abomination cried out in pain, its body twitching as Thunderboar spirit power coursed through it. And yet it was not enough to endure the power of the abomination.

In spite of the combined strength of the spirits of the ancestors, the abomination’s strength grew again, with a bellow, it struck out, sending the Thunderboar’s spirit slamming into the ground, its body shattering like glass, the wolf spirit yelped in agony as it was knocked back, and the stone titan stumbled, cracks spreading across its body.

The abomination was winning, it was stronger, faster, and more ruthless than the spirits could handle, and unlike them, it has completely fused with its spirits.

But the ancestors were not done yet.

With one last, desperate attempt, they dug deep into their own stores of strength, Rogarn’s great trunk burst forth, hitting the abomination in the chest with a deafening impact, the wolf spirit ripped into the abomination’s body once again, and the Thunderboar’s spirit, battered and broken though it was, charged forward with one last blast of strength.

They attacked together, their combined strength overpowering the defenses of the abomination, the serpent spirits wrapped around the back of the abomination screamed in rage as they were repelled by the power of the ancestors, and the abomination stumbled, its body wavering like a flame about to die.

It was not enough.

With one last yell of fury, the abomination fell, its body breaking up into smoke and darkness, the field quieted once again, the light of the ancestors’ spirits was ebbing away slowly.

The beast tribes, broken and battered but unbroken, had emerged triumphant, their ancestors had interceded for them, and with their assistance, they had brought down the abomination, but at great cost, and of the warriors that remained few.

As the remaining essence of the abomination disappeared into the air, the sky started to clear, moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the battlefield with a silver light.

But before the beast warriors could even start to feel relief, their breathing labored and their bodies heavy with pain and fatigue, a cold sound crept through the stillness a hiss, low and poisonous, like steam leaking from a ruptured seal, the darkness where the abomination lay began to roil and twist.

From the mist of its disintegrated form, a slit of crimson light flared to life, its eyes, still intact, still glaring.

A heavy, unnatural wind surged across the battlefield, scattering the remains of the fallen abomination and carrying a sickening stench, the beast warriors stumbled back, their instincts screaming, and the spiritual forms of the ancestors flickered and dimmed in the presence of the malevolence beginning to reassert itself.

The abomination’s body, or at least what was left of it, started to reassemble, its flesh wrinkled and undulated, healing not only back to what it had been before, but growing, two huge, ghostly serpents fell upon the half-formed cadaver, they did not so much enter as become.

In a horror show of dark splendor, the abomination’s lower half stretched out, bones cracking and reforming, flesh flowing like melted tar, scales burst forth from its hide, each glimmering with unnatural iridescence, and its legs merged into a sinuous, coiled snake tail that twisted with impossible velocity and power, its upper half regrew, now wider and more monstrous, its arms encased in thick, jagged scales like a warrior’s armor.

The forms of the serpents wrapped themselves around it, then dissolved into its body in a burst of blinding, blue light, and its aura shifted.

It was no longer a fusion of beast and spirit, it was now something transcendent, something wholly other, something transformed.

Among the beast tribes, this process had a name: Transcendent Binding, a ritual of full fusion between spirit and self, it’s not something any beast or even an abomination can perform, yet this showed that this wasn’t just any abomination.

The air became thick and warped, and the ground beneath it cracked from the sheer weight of its rising power, the abomination opened its newly shaped mouth, letting out a scream that shattered bones and hearts alike, where once it had been a monstrous invader, now it was a god of carnage, reborn.

Cries of despair erupted among the beast warriors, some dropped their heads in surrender. Others clutched their body, trying to resist the pressure invading their minds, the Ancestral beasts, Rogarn, and the rest staggered back, unable to contain their horror.

They had hoped it would not come to this.

Rogarn’s voice, deep as a mountain’s belly, echoed into the minds of his companions, "We cannot defeat it now, we will have to take that one final measure." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Valha’s wolf spirit sighed in agreement, its golden eyes hard. "I never wanted to use the forbidden art, but we have no choice."

They then looked at the Ancestor of the Spectral Horn tribe, "You have helped us a lot friend, without your abilities, it would have massacred us long before, we will be going all out now, please take care of us from behind."

The ancestor of the Spectral Tribe nodded, its face was tired but its eyes shone with ferocity, it also wanted to go all out with them, but it had a far lesser number of descendants to perform the forbidden art.

The forbidden art they were speaking of was a ritual, in which the descendants of the Ancestral beasts sacrifice themselves to the spirits accompanying their ancestors, which will, in turn, increase their grade and strength completely, but this ritual has far-reaching consequences, most of the descendants will have their energy completely drained, and it will take decades to recover from such actions.

They spoke without sound, words etched directly into the souls of their descendants, the ancestors began to chant, and from their spirits, a sacred aura burst forth covering the battlefield, their descendants in turn were willing to sacrifice their power to their ancestors for just one chance at winning against the abomination.

Jonan, who was witnessing all of this was incredibly stunned, and thought to himself, "Does his stepmother really not want him to live, in asking him to go on such a mission, he feels that even his cohort members were no match against that abomination, and worst of all his half-sister Freya killed such type of an abomination, he felt he will eventually reach her strength with his effort, but now he understood one harsh reality, that she is on another level if she could kill an abomination like this."

The abomination stood tall incredibly proud, without an ounce of weakness, it grinned at the Ancestors of the bestial tribes, who were increasing their strength without stopping, it was mockingly looking at them and feeding on their futile efforts.

The battlefield, once bathed in carnage and despair, now pulsed with the rhythm of ancient power, sorrowful, yet defiant, the chants of the ancestors rose, and the very air bent under the collective will of countless generations, all pouring themselves into a final act of defiance.

The descendants began to glow faintly, their bodies trembling, some falling to their knees as their life force poured into the spirits, their eyes shone not with pain, but purpose, they were not dying, they were becoming part of a final struggle against that ridiculous being.

Rogarn’s spirit blazed anew, his cracked limbs reforged in molten flame, each ember pulsing with the essence of a fallen warrior, his roar shook the sky, no longer just a beast’s cry but a call that echoed across time itself.

Valha’s wolf spirit grew leaner, sleeker, and more savage, her fur streaked with ghostly silver, her form splitting for an instant into a spectral pack, each reflection of herself birthed from a descendant’s fading strength.

The Thunderboar’s spirit became a shining lightning incarnate, its form nearly formless, too fast, too charged, each step causing the air to fracture.

Even the Spectral Horn Ancestor, though relegated to the rear, stood taller, supporting the ritual with every remaining ounce of its will, it was defiantly beating the gong in its hand, its attack was invisible yet deadly to the abomination.