MMORPG : Ancient WORLD
Author: Aibek
Chapter 630: The Dark Ancient
A tremor rippled through the battlefield as the aftermath unfolded. The world stood broken, the air thick with distortion, the ground warped into jagged layers of collapsing reality.
The reach of Error stretched for nearly a hundred meters, a chaotic scar where existence itself had forgotten how to hold together. Space flickered between form and void, fragments of land floating in suspended confusion, before all motion froze just shy of Zarach.
The sphere of silver strings expanded in a blinding flash, its radiant weave enveloping the sky like the bloom of a dying star.
Every thread sang, straining against the distortion, while within that argent storm, Alex’s twin blades carved their answer.
Encased in veils of silent severance, the two blades cleaved through everything that came at them, the twisted reality, the roaring light, and the sphere’s countless cords.
Some strings were severed cleanly, others phased through, flickering in and out of existence as if confused by their own paradox.
The blades fell in a complete, unrelenting arc, and two crescent waves of annihilation burst forth. They grew larger with every heartbeat, tearing through the fractured world as reality itself peeled away beneath them.
The twin crescents pressed on, unyielding, voracious, stretching forward like a stubborn shadow devouring the last embers of light, losing fragments of themselves with every inch gained, yet never stopping.
The sphere of strings finally stopped expanding. Its once-perfect form hung still in the air, shattered to an extent yet whole, its destroyed shape revealing itself complete in the blink of an eye, as though even ruin had been woven into its fate.
The twin slashes finally reached Zarach, cleaving through his spectral arms that he raised to defend himself, before biting deep into his chest, his gray armor blooming red.
Just then, the sphere of strings also took effect.
The silver sphere had grown to encompass both Alex and Zarach, suspended in the dark enclave like a pale moon. Without warning, hundreds of silver strings descended upon Alex from every direction.
Some were milky-white and incorporeal, cold in their intent as they reached for him. Others were silver and wire-like, going for the threads of fate that stemmed from his being.
Within a heartbeat, the result took hold.
Alex, who was already reeling from the tugging at the very fabric of reality to plant an error, until his mind felt stretched and on the brink of collapse, quickly felt the claws of Zarach digging at both his soul and mind.
An insidious chill gripped Alex’s mind, slowly freezing him in place. His will faltered, his body stiffened, and as he stood powerless, one by one, the fates tied to him began to be severed, each cut feeling like a piece of himself being sliced away.
However, these effects lasted only for a moment. Before the freezing grip on his mind and the repercussions of losing his fate could overwhelm him, both forces assaulting him slowed down as they underwent constant change.
Under the touch of Error, the cold consuming his soul remained, yet it no longer stole his will. It was like standing in a frozen glacier’s heart, except countless times worse.
The fate being stripped from him also suffered from change. The metallic strings that once gnawed at his fate now faltered: some snapped apart, others struck at things that weren’t even there, and many met the same quiet, senseless end.
The opposing powers warred in silence until the sphere of strings began to crumble, and even Error dissolved into nothing, as order returned to reality.
When the distortion faded, only Alex and Zarach remained, standing amid the dim ruins of the dark enclave.
Both had given everything.
The outcome seemed a tie.
Zarach bled heavily, his gray armor soaked red, his spirit form gone, and while Alex appeared steadier, he himself was swaying on the edge of collapse.
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other. Then Zarach threw back his head and began laughing, a low, ragged sound that broke the stillness like cracking glass.
"HAAA—HAHHAHAHHAHAAHA!"
Zarach’s laughter ripped through the silence like tearing steel. "To think, a pest like you could push me this far," his voice rasped, dry and grating as sandpaper. "It’s good that no one will ever know of this... yes, no one will ever see this disgrace."
He took a slow breath, tilting his head upward as if speaking to the heavens. "Had I not planned to leave after claiming the Fate Tablet, I might have taken my time to see your limits, perhaps even made you my servant."
A faint chuckle escaped him when he saw Alex’s jaw tighten. "Even Odysseus, the so-called Hegemon of this realm, would kill for such an honor. You should feel privileged."
"Enough talk," Zarach muttered coldly, the faintest flicker of reluctance passing over his face before stillness reclaimed him. "Let’s end this, so I can finally leave this backwater realm."
With that, he gripped the edges of his shattered armor and tore it off, the sound of metal scraping metal echoing through the hollow air.
In an instant, his entire frame convulsed, the rhythm irregular and violent, as his skin lost all trace of color. A pale silver sheen crept across it, hardening with a sickly luster.
Bone-white fissures spread from his neck to his sides, crawling up his face like cracks in porcelain.
His spine arched with a sound like splintering glass. The upper half of his body stretched unnaturally long, shoulders widening until the joints popped under the strain.
While his lower body began to melt and fuse, the flesh softened and folded in on itself, like molten wax.
Then came the tearing. From beneath the remains of his armor, white, glistening limbs burst outward, thin, wiry, and wickedly sharp. They unfolded with a wet crackle, eight in total, each ending in hooked points that scraped against the fabric of space.
His back swelled, being encased beneath a chitinous mass of bone-white plates that gleamed faintly like polished ivory.
’A partial transformation,’ Alex murmured, as he watched the transformation, while remembering Odeseues’ words,
’Saelvar was a Primodial, an entity born at the epoch of time itself, and as its descendants, pure blood from the house Saelvar could invoke transformation into his image.’
Odeseues had also said something else related to Saelvar. ’I don’t know if Primodial and Ancient are the same, but I can tell you this: if you do use Decent of the Dark Ancient, you will win. ’
Alex had actually not even used the ’Decent of the Dark Ancient’ skill up until now, Odeseues wouldn’t allow him, saying the price was bigger than I was understanding it to be.
Additionally, the repercussions of using the skill wouldn’t be reversed by a time-related skill; not even Odeseues would be able to help, so the skill had been saved up until it was truly needed.
Alex had hoped to win this battle outright, not needing to use the skill at all, not because he was afraid of the price it would take from him; no, on the contrary, he couldn’t wait to use it. However, he just wished to win against Zarach without any external help.
After all his effort, the result was a tie, not what he wanted, but not something he felt bad about, considering Zarach was a true Blood of house Saelvar, at least a second class, if not higher, and not a third class as he previously believed.
He also did not feel bad, because now he was in the position to use the skill he so eagerly wished to use.
Zarach rose on its new limbs, now no longer a human, its silhouette both regal and horrific, a perfect fusion of man and spider, its every movement whispering of mystery and horror.
Zarach smiled, his features twisting into an evil mask, but where he expected to see a defeated and outright desperate look on Alex’s face, he saw an equally broad smile, two dark eyes void of fear staring right back at him.
Alex did not appear to be someone standing at the brink of defeat, losing the greatest opportunity of his life or something of equal value.
But before Zarach could think of any reason why Alex would smile, not drown in despair, he felt a sudden change.
"Decent of the Dark Ancient"
Alex whispered those words aloud, not that there was any need, but because it just felt right as he gave the mental command to activate his most prized skill.
Alex closed his eyes, and the reaction was instantaneous, as his skin, once touched by pale luminescence, deepened into a seamless black that reflected nothing.
His hair unfurled, flowing like strands of liquid night. Nothing about his body changed, he was still unmistakably human... at least in form.
However, the world underwent many changes in a matter of seconds.
The Dark Enclave had almost faded away, leaving scattered mists and broken fragments of darkness, all that remained of it. As the transformation began, they dissolved in an instant, melting into the fabric of reality.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed ready to recover, to breathe again.
However, right then, the color bled away from everything, sky, stone, and world alike. What came was not darkness or the absence of light, but a presence so complete that the world itself was drowned beneath it.
In that stillness, Alex opened his eyes. Two dark stars, devoid of emotion, as he slowly examined his hand, opening and closing it into a fist.
Alex then looked up and examined his surroundings, and from his expression, it was hard to tell whether he bore a look of understanding or appreciation.
He finally lifted his gaze, and there stood Zarach, frozen in place, a look of pure horror carved into his face, as if he were staring at his worst nightmare made flesh.
"Da... Da... Dark Ancient..."
A heavy silence fell. Zarach’s voice rasped out, each syllable fought for, as he drew a ragged breath and finally forced the words. His face was a map of panic. "Let... let’s make a deal."
"I wi... I will give you more than you can imagine...more than anything this realm or yours could offer... J...Ja...just don’t kill me."
He shook his head as he took back broken steps. "I am so close to acquiring it. I can’t fail now... No...No...not now."
Alex’s face did not move. The lack of expression only fed Zarach’s terror. His body trembled uncontrollably, his spider limbs twitched, refusing his command as if struck numb.
Seeing his pleading fail, Zarach’s voice shifted, brittle with rage that barely held back the overwhelming fear. "You don’t know who you are dealing with. I will erase your planet for this. I’ll hunt down every one you love and throw you into the nightmarish depths of Broken Wells."
He spat the threats, but they came out as fumbling, jagged words, anger trying to mask how thin his courage had become. "Boy, don’t you dare test me..."
"You done?" Alex asked, his voice flat and calm, with not a shred of doubt or arrogance.
"Hey...listen... you can’t do this," Zarach stammered, crawling backward on his spider limbs, eyes wide, the last of his composure tearing.
Alex raised a hand. "Darkness Embrace."
The words fell like a command, and Darkness surged forth, a flood from a shattered dam, and in an instant it swallowed the screaming Zarach. The sound cut off as the dark drowned him. His fury, bargains, and threats were snuffed into silence.
The reach of Error stretched for nearly a hundred meters, a chaotic scar where existence itself had forgotten how to hold together. Space flickered between form and void, fragments of land floating in suspended confusion, before all motion froze just shy of Zarach.
The sphere of silver strings expanded in a blinding flash, its radiant weave enveloping the sky like the bloom of a dying star.
Every thread sang, straining against the distortion, while within that argent storm, Alex’s twin blades carved their answer.
Encased in veils of silent severance, the two blades cleaved through everything that came at them, the twisted reality, the roaring light, and the sphere’s countless cords.
Some strings were severed cleanly, others phased through, flickering in and out of existence as if confused by their own paradox.
The blades fell in a complete, unrelenting arc, and two crescent waves of annihilation burst forth. They grew larger with every heartbeat, tearing through the fractured world as reality itself peeled away beneath them.
The twin crescents pressed on, unyielding, voracious, stretching forward like a stubborn shadow devouring the last embers of light, losing fragments of themselves with every inch gained, yet never stopping.
The sphere of strings finally stopped expanding. Its once-perfect form hung still in the air, shattered to an extent yet whole, its destroyed shape revealing itself complete in the blink of an eye, as though even ruin had been woven into its fate.
The twin slashes finally reached Zarach, cleaving through his spectral arms that he raised to defend himself, before biting deep into his chest, his gray armor blooming red.
Just then, the sphere of strings also took effect.
The silver sphere had grown to encompass both Alex and Zarach, suspended in the dark enclave like a pale moon. Without warning, hundreds of silver strings descended upon Alex from every direction.
Some were milky-white and incorporeal, cold in their intent as they reached for him. Others were silver and wire-like, going for the threads of fate that stemmed from his being.
Within a heartbeat, the result took hold.
Alex, who was already reeling from the tugging at the very fabric of reality to plant an error, until his mind felt stretched and on the brink of collapse, quickly felt the claws of Zarach digging at both his soul and mind.
An insidious chill gripped Alex’s mind, slowly freezing him in place. His will faltered, his body stiffened, and as he stood powerless, one by one, the fates tied to him began to be severed, each cut feeling like a piece of himself being sliced away.
However, these effects lasted only for a moment. Before the freezing grip on his mind and the repercussions of losing his fate could overwhelm him, both forces assaulting him slowed down as they underwent constant change.
Under the touch of Error, the cold consuming his soul remained, yet it no longer stole his will. It was like standing in a frozen glacier’s heart, except countless times worse.
The fate being stripped from him also suffered from change. The metallic strings that once gnawed at his fate now faltered: some snapped apart, others struck at things that weren’t even there, and many met the same quiet, senseless end.
The opposing powers warred in silence until the sphere of strings began to crumble, and even Error dissolved into nothing, as order returned to reality.
When the distortion faded, only Alex and Zarach remained, standing amid the dim ruins of the dark enclave.
Both had given everything.
The outcome seemed a tie.
Zarach bled heavily, his gray armor soaked red, his spirit form gone, and while Alex appeared steadier, he himself was swaying on the edge of collapse.
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other. Then Zarach threw back his head and began laughing, a low, ragged sound that broke the stillness like cracking glass.
"HAAA—HAHHAHAHHAHAAHA!"
Zarach’s laughter ripped through the silence like tearing steel. "To think, a pest like you could push me this far," his voice rasped, dry and grating as sandpaper. "It’s good that no one will ever know of this... yes, no one will ever see this disgrace."
He took a slow breath, tilting his head upward as if speaking to the heavens. "Had I not planned to leave after claiming the Fate Tablet, I might have taken my time to see your limits, perhaps even made you my servant."
A faint chuckle escaped him when he saw Alex’s jaw tighten. "Even Odysseus, the so-called Hegemon of this realm, would kill for such an honor. You should feel privileged."
"Enough talk," Zarach muttered coldly, the faintest flicker of reluctance passing over his face before stillness reclaimed him. "Let’s end this, so I can finally leave this backwater realm."
With that, he gripped the edges of his shattered armor and tore it off, the sound of metal scraping metal echoing through the hollow air.
In an instant, his entire frame convulsed, the rhythm irregular and violent, as his skin lost all trace of color. A pale silver sheen crept across it, hardening with a sickly luster.
Bone-white fissures spread from his neck to his sides, crawling up his face like cracks in porcelain.
His spine arched with a sound like splintering glass. The upper half of his body stretched unnaturally long, shoulders widening until the joints popped under the strain.
While his lower body began to melt and fuse, the flesh softened and folded in on itself, like molten wax.
Then came the tearing. From beneath the remains of his armor, white, glistening limbs burst outward, thin, wiry, and wickedly sharp. They unfolded with a wet crackle, eight in total, each ending in hooked points that scraped against the fabric of space.
His back swelled, being encased beneath a chitinous mass of bone-white plates that gleamed faintly like polished ivory.
’A partial transformation,’ Alex murmured, as he watched the transformation, while remembering Odeseues’ words,
’Saelvar was a Primodial, an entity born at the epoch of time itself, and as its descendants, pure blood from the house Saelvar could invoke transformation into his image.’
Odeseues had also said something else related to Saelvar. ’I don’t know if Primodial and Ancient are the same, but I can tell you this: if you do use Decent of the Dark Ancient, you will win. ’
Alex had actually not even used the ’Decent of the Dark Ancient’ skill up until now, Odeseues wouldn’t allow him, saying the price was bigger than I was understanding it to be.
Additionally, the repercussions of using the skill wouldn’t be reversed by a time-related skill; not even Odeseues would be able to help, so the skill had been saved up until it was truly needed.
Alex had hoped to win this battle outright, not needing to use the skill at all, not because he was afraid of the price it would take from him; no, on the contrary, he couldn’t wait to use it. However, he just wished to win against Zarach without any external help.
After all his effort, the result was a tie, not what he wanted, but not something he felt bad about, considering Zarach was a true Blood of house Saelvar, at least a second class, if not higher, and not a third class as he previously believed.
He also did not feel bad, because now he was in the position to use the skill he so eagerly wished to use.
Zarach rose on its new limbs, now no longer a human, its silhouette both regal and horrific, a perfect fusion of man and spider, its every movement whispering of mystery and horror.
Zarach smiled, his features twisting into an evil mask, but where he expected to see a defeated and outright desperate look on Alex’s face, he saw an equally broad smile, two dark eyes void of fear staring right back at him.
Alex did not appear to be someone standing at the brink of defeat, losing the greatest opportunity of his life or something of equal value.
But before Zarach could think of any reason why Alex would smile, not drown in despair, he felt a sudden change.
"Decent of the Dark Ancient"
Alex whispered those words aloud, not that there was any need, but because it just felt right as he gave the mental command to activate his most prized skill.
Alex closed his eyes, and the reaction was instantaneous, as his skin, once touched by pale luminescence, deepened into a seamless black that reflected nothing.
His hair unfurled, flowing like strands of liquid night. Nothing about his body changed, he was still unmistakably human... at least in form.
However, the world underwent many changes in a matter of seconds.
The Dark Enclave had almost faded away, leaving scattered mists and broken fragments of darkness, all that remained of it. As the transformation began, they dissolved in an instant, melting into the fabric of reality.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed ready to recover, to breathe again.
However, right then, the color bled away from everything, sky, stone, and world alike. What came was not darkness or the absence of light, but a presence so complete that the world itself was drowned beneath it.
In that stillness, Alex opened his eyes. Two dark stars, devoid of emotion, as he slowly examined his hand, opening and closing it into a fist.
Alex then looked up and examined his surroundings, and from his expression, it was hard to tell whether he bore a look of understanding or appreciation.
He finally lifted his gaze, and there stood Zarach, frozen in place, a look of pure horror carved into his face, as if he were staring at his worst nightmare made flesh.
"Da... Da... Dark Ancient..."
A heavy silence fell. Zarach’s voice rasped out, each syllable fought for, as he drew a ragged breath and finally forced the words. His face was a map of panic. "Let... let’s make a deal."
"I wi... I will give you more than you can imagine...more than anything this realm or yours could offer... J...Ja...just don’t kill me."
He shook his head as he took back broken steps. "I am so close to acquiring it. I can’t fail now... No...No...not now."
Alex’s face did not move. The lack of expression only fed Zarach’s terror. His body trembled uncontrollably, his spider limbs twitched, refusing his command as if struck numb.
Seeing his pleading fail, Zarach’s voice shifted, brittle with rage that barely held back the overwhelming fear. "You don’t know who you are dealing with. I will erase your planet for this. I’ll hunt down every one you love and throw you into the nightmarish depths of Broken Wells."
He spat the threats, but they came out as fumbling, jagged words, anger trying to mask how thin his courage had become. "Boy, don’t you dare test me..."
"You done?" Alex asked, his voice flat and calm, with not a shred of doubt or arrogance.
"Hey...listen... you can’t do this," Zarach stammered, crawling backward on his spider limbs, eyes wide, the last of his composure tearing.
Alex raised a hand. "Darkness Embrace."
The words fell like a command, and Darkness surged forth, a flood from a shattered dam, and in an instant it swallowed the screaming Zarach. The sound cut off as the dark drowned him. His fury, bargains, and threats were snuffed into silence.