Legend of the Empyrean Blacksmith 469 Breaking the Chains II

BREAKING THE CHAINS (II)

A kingdom sprawled open before his eyes, long and winding. Lino stood on top of a tall cliff, cradled by two dried-up rivers, overlooking the stretch of flatland beneath him. Umbra Village, countless others, as well as the late Kingdom's Capital, had all been blended into one, massive metropolis sporting thousands of ebony-black towers and spires rising over the smoked huts and buildings and streets paved in ashen-gray stone.

The streets, however, were empty, unlike the skies; there, an army without a conscious number hovered, crimson eyes forming a symphony of colors that managed to suffocate the surrounding dark. They all stared at Lino evenly, their gazes strangely dull. The Demons as weak as Low-tier to the Devils as strong as Primordial Titulars… they hovered emptily, silently. It was an eerie scene, yet what caught Lino's attention wasn't that, but a small patch of land toward the south-west, tucked in a remote, seemingly insignificant corner.

Amidst the fire and haze of the smoke, ashen-gray and black, a small clearing comprised of two houses stood erect, both shabby and old-looking, walls full of holes, windows drifting draft through the innards freely. Lino's heart stirred at that moment, his memories awoken from their deep slumber; one of those houses was Eggor's and Ella's, home of his teenage years, while the other one was where Hannah and he briefly lived together after Alison left.

"—how do you like it?" the familiar voice whispered from the beyond, striking directly at his soul. "I've preserved them to the best of my abilities."

"… truly, you are a father's son…" Lino mumbled lowly, fighting back the surge of emotions.

"Don't misunderstand," the voice continued. "I did not do it to crack you; I know how much these eight walls mean to you."

"—I don't care for the walls," Lino said. "Just the memories they contain."

"… don't we all?"

"What is it that you want, Ashtar?" Lino asked after a short silence. "Do you want me to end my crusade? Exterminate your kin? Befriend you? Or are you as you wont to be, just a creature of inconsistencies?"

"… what I want? I want… many-thing I can never have, young Empyrean. This is not about my wants, but about your needs. What do you need?"

"…" Lino remained silent, ripping his gaze away from the small clearing and onto the massive army. "Beyond it is a portal, no? Are you inviting me to your home?"

"Is it my home, though? Or is it yours?"

"… riddles, riddles, riddles," Lino muttered. "Had the mind never invented riddles, half the problems would have never ripened."

"For someone who claims to dread them so much, you are rather proficient at them." the voice said.

"I damn well ought to be after all this time," Lino groaned. "The only way I ever learned anything of value is if I could pry it open from the cold lips of the riddled minds. Now, however, I've no time for the riddles. War awaits me. One far more important than ours."

"I know," the voice said. "A war to end all wars, your mind predicts. Will it end all wars? No. Nothing short of life ceasing to exist will end all wars."

"—aah, I'm tired of philosophy, of this ever-prevailing cynicism," Lino sighed, suddenly taking out the Slayer. "Wait for me, Ashtar. I kindly accept your invitation."

"…" the voice spoke no more, seemingly having withdrawn.

Lino didn't pay any more attention to it, turning toward the sea of Devils and Demons who, similarly, withdrew their weapons. He found it all odd, though consciously prevented himself from thinking about it; worm-thoughts akin to those were dangerous, he knew.

The sharpness of his eyes increased as the gleam in them turned bright. He bent halfway forward, drawing the Slayer an inch out of its scabbard, the glimmer of the sharp blade unleashing fiery light for a moment. Suddenly, two pairs of wings unfurled behind Lino, two holy-white and the other two bleakly dark, creating the never-ending contrast.

"," he mumbled lowly as Qi within him stirred, soon manifesting as trails of black and white smoke that draped over his armor. "—in Chaos born, in Chaos dissevered; in Entropy reborn, in Entropy sinewed – 50th Form – Salvation."

His voice trailed along with the tides of the wind as he soon vanished from his spot, space around him contorting, blowing like a blowfish for a moment before imploding inwardly, creating countless gashes and wounds in spacetime. A torrent of light appeared all of a sudden above the Hell's army, each array the size of a blade, shaped like the Slayer; in its midst, trails of darkness shrouded the guards and the handles, seemingly enacting the role of the propellent.

The light and dark mingled as they sped in rapid, circular loops, burning through the army like the high-sea storm, forming tidal waves of Chaotic Qi that even its descendants could not withstand. Lino appeared in the midst during the bout of confusion, his expression empty, eyes shimmering in the killing intent. He spun the Slayer in a full circle before anyone could even register it, his body stretching as he swayed sideways, spinning once more. His speed achieved the effect of the paradox, as he moved so fast the light itself could not catch up to him, causing its trails to appear as afterimages.

His imposing figure could be seen at a hundred places at the same time, cutting, splicing, stabbing, spinning, roaring. His eyes shifted into their crimson hue as he cleaved a God-Devil in half, basking in the black-crimson blood, staining his armor. The innate desire within him awoke, his heart stirred; blood gushed through his veins like a river, Qi surging like the tidal waves of the stormy seas.

It was not a battle, not really; it was a form of empowering, like ho ordinary Cultivators would swallow high-end pills to help them accumulate more Qi quickly. Lino danced through the millions of them a whole second before they awoke, finding nearly half their forces cleaved, flying from the high skies like the flies, their cold, dead bodies splattering against the stone down below, turning into ash right after, seeped of all their Vitality.

The army roared emotionally, splitting apart like the sea; arrays of darkness sunk the high-tides of Qi, subverting it rapidly. Lino found it hard to breathe for a moment but quickly underwent a full circulation of Primal Chaos inside of him, purifying the dense, Devil Qi in a single breath. His body, now revitalized, shook, Qi around it growing corporeal as his humanoid body grew draped in darkness and light, in folding shadows that danced into nowhere and everywhere. Now he seemed more akin to the Devils than their liberator, yet it hardly stayed his blade.

The Slayer cried as it looped several dozen heads with a single swing, blasting off a paper-thin array of light that cut through all in its path. Heads split off and loomed for a moment before falling alongside the bodies. The two pairs of wings fluttered, suddenly encasing Lino in a protective, sphere-shaped shell; unlike before, however, it was transparent, like an embryonic egg.

The Arts fell on top of it, barely managing to shake it; hundreds of thousands swarmed the sturdy shell, bouncing off, draping over, seeping in – not a single iota of Qi touched Lino who suddenly burst out of the shell, his body condensing into a trail of smoke and ash not even the reality itself could catch up to. His speed produced the effect similar to that of a black hole – time dilation. So much so, actually, that he effectively existed in the 'future', several seconds ahead of the Devils. What did the several seconds mean in the combat at such a level? Everything.

The tides settled and the cries, roars and painful weeps ceased. The metropolis, once standing tall, proud and defiant, had replaced its ebony-dark hue with a crimson dye. All across, be it its roofs or streets, disemboweled bodies lay stilled, blood gushing through the streets and rooftops like a set of intertwining rivers, heads whose eyes still stared wide-open defiantly at the sky acting the role of decorations at every corner. It was a sight no other soul besides Lino would ever see in person.

After this, the intentions, the point of it all became clear to him, though he didn't voice them, not in his mind, not with his lips. He loomed far above, staring at the sight he single-handedly created. Though not proud, he was not ashamed either. Long gone were the days where he would break over cutting down so many souls so rapidly. The demons would weigh on his soul, but it was already overburdened… it has been for a long, long time. He would endure it, as he always had.
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He put the Slayer back into its scabbard, taking a deep breath. Millions… perhaps even billions of years would need to pass before this land would return to its natural state. Lino suspected that he would not be alive long enough to witness it, though he didn't care. He had a new home, and that clear patch that still remained intact despite everything, seemingly protected by invisible magic, was simply a memory. A dear, warm memory, but just a memory nonetheless.

He tore his eyes away from it, summoning his status window in his head. It has been a long time since he looked at it, as he almost instinctively could sense all the changes in his body for a long while. However, a simple confirmation of what he suspected never hurt. The numbers, though shocking, failed to incur the same reaction in him as they would decades ago. He knew they were just numbers, and could hardly tell the story of one's strength properly.

[Lyonel Qa'yi – Human – Level 71,443]

The Empyrean Blacksmith

Titles: Missionary of Writ (???), Empyrean Commander (???), Continental Crafter, Harbinger of Chaos, The Unbent, Destroyer of Life, Beholder of Madness, Writ Slayer, Ender of Light, Dragon Rider, Kinslayer, Creator, Fiend, Primordial, Devil Ender, Spacetime Burrower

Occupations: Beggar (Level 106), Blacksmith (Level 5,000 - Primordial Archmaster), Cultivator (Level 70), Formation Master (Level 110), Rune Master (Level 140)

Martial Arts: Empyrean Will (Max), Peerless Empyrean Spear Scripture (Max), Sword of Chaos (Level 13), Berserk, Unshackled, Aeonian Body, Weapon Mastery, Empyrean Consecration (Level 3), Eternal Banishment (Level 2), Genesis (Level 1)

Primal Spirits: Ra, Ye, Gu, Li, Glog, Tet, Lyee, Astha, J'ok, Fyur

Primary Stats: Strength (96,443,988), Vitality (169,334,593)

Chapter end