The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 96: Rifts: Aftermath II

A silver-haired man sat atop a lonely mountain peak, his hair billowing gently in the wind.

Although he was perched on a mountaintop, the surroundings were so dark it felt like he was underground, with not a single light turned on.

The entire place was silent, the only sound being the occasional thumping of a heartbeat.

It seemed to echo from him, and from the world at the same time.

His aura was completely nonexistent, and he appeared wholly mortal, not a single strand of energy emanating from his body. His chest rose and fell steadily, as though in deep sleep.

Suddenly, the stillness of the place was shattered by the crunch of stone beneath heavy footsteps, echoing loudly across the mountain.

Another silver-haired man ascended the peak, each step he took cracking the ground beneath him. Fine fracture lines raced outward from his feet, spiderwebbing across the mountain surface.

The thuds of his steps grew louder as he approached the seated man.

Just as he came within eight feet, of his range... A spear streaked down from the nonexistent sky, slamming into the ground before him.

The mountain trembled violently, nearly splitting in half, its new shape resembling the gaping maw of a great shark.

The spear hovered midair, its shaft quivering slightly. It emitted no aura, and yet with its appearance, the atmosphere grew heavy, saturated with the scent of death.

The climbing man, however, continued forward as though none of it existed, his expression unchanging a single time. When he reached the spear, he simply pushed it aside, and walked past like he couldn’t be bothered to do more.

Strangely, the spear responded. It lowered its tip docilely in an almost human way, bowing like a little boy who had come to impress his father, uncle or older brother, but was completely ignored. Sulking, it followed silently behind him.

At last, the second man stood before the first.

Their forms emitted no light, yet they were clearly visible.

It was strange... Everything was strange. There wasn’t a single atom of light in the air, yet visibility was perfect, every detail of the world, could be seen.

The silver-haired man who sat, still appeared to be in slumber, showing no intention of waking or acknowledging the other. And the one standing, seemed to showed no desire to wake him as well.

After a long moment of silence, the standing man turned his back to the seated one.

His mouth opened.

At the same time, the sitting man raised his head from its lowered position, revealing piercing silver eyes... hidden until now within the tangle of his long, silver, scattered hair.

"Blood for blood. Ashes to ashes."

"Blood for blood. Ashes to ashes."

They spoke in unison.

----

Menelaus walked into the forge with Kallen still strapped unconscious, and dropped the table almost carelessly as he took in the sight before him.

The entire place was exactly as they’d left it, standing strong, without even the slightest crack on the walls.

The children, however, were another matter entirely. They looked wrecked, utterly distraught, with dull, lifeless eyes like they’d been working themselves to death, teetering on the edge of collapse, ready to surrender to Yama’s warm embrace.

Some were already passed out, lying motionless on the floor, barely clinging to life.

In one corner, a younger boy was laughing maniacally, a strange expression twisting his features as he stared blankly at the wall.

Menelaus’ heart trembled.

His eyes darted around, searching for answers, wild thoughts churning in his mind.

Finally, his gaze landed on Democles, who seemed to be the one in the "best" state of mind among them.

Menelaus walked toward him and asked in a soft, fatherly tone, the usual gruffness in his voice gone without a trace.

"What happened?"

Democles struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, a blurry figure dancing before his eyes.

He was about to curse at the bastard obstructing his vision, a migraine pounding in his skull, when the voice echoed again.

"Democles? What happened?"

"Huh? Father?" he slurred.

"It’s me," Menelaus confirmed gently.

A glint flickered in Democles’ eyes, and for a moment, he seemed... better. A hint of clarity returned to his expression.

’Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!’

A voice thundered through Democles’ mind, urging him on, just as he received the affirmation.

Menelaus noticed the shift in his expression and felt a bit of relief. At least they hadn’t gone completely brain-dead.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Argh... it hurts," Democles grimaced, clutching his head with one hand and massaging it with the other.

"Are you okay?" Menelaus asked, brow furrowed.

"Ugh... I don’t know," he groaned. "I thought I was going to die. Are they dead?"

"Death?" Menelaus echoed, his frown deepening.

Democles nodded, letting out a pained groan as he tried to silence the pounding thoughts.

"Mhm... I’ve never felt fear like that before. I was sure I was going to die. It was the only thing I could think about," he said, his expression tight and strained.

Menelaus’ frown deepened further.

He was beginning to understand.

Though the forge looked untouched, maybe he’d been too quick to assume that nothing had happened here.

While there had been no physical damage, it couldn’t be said they were entirely untouched. The pressure from earlier, the wild surge of dynamis, the lingering scent of death, and the catastrophic attack from the Saints...

They left a mark on their psyche.

It was one thing to face death when you understood what was happening to you. But to constantly feel the presence of death, over and over, without explanation, without reprieve or clarity, was something else entirely.

Menelaus sighed. He couldn’t expect perfection. The fact that they were still alive at all was more than enough.

But he was torn now... should he give them time to recover on their own, or intervene?

But could he really help them in his current state?

Though he appeared composed, maybe even more so than earlier that morning, the truth was, he was far worse now. Experimenting on Kallen had been, therapeutic. Without it, he might’ve already lost himself, to the constant clashing in his head.

Right now however, he needed to go complete the ritual, because he didn’t know how long left he had.

Still, he couldn’t ignore them all.

He moved through the forge, offering help where he could, especially to the boy who’d descended into full-blown madness, and the only girl among them, who was repeatedly banging her head against the wall.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel