Bro, I'm not an Undead!-Chapter 1661: Give Me Everything
Boron desperately wanted to gawk at the giant chasm left behind when Quintess went boring through the floor of the Second Layer, but he couldn’t. Skullius’ presence kept drawing his attention, his rage. The smiting of Ju`wtte he’d been blasted with had spared him from the effect of the Great Revelations, allowing him a moment to remember whom he truly hated, whom he truly wanted to kill, but now he was back to grinding his teeth at the sight of the anomaly with four arms.
<Just what are you...?> he said more to himself than Skullius.
It didn’t make sense.
This grace standing before him had crushed Quintess before he could. It had stolen his moment of closure with his one true rival.
What did that mean?
Right then, the gears within Boron ground to a halt. The influx of power he’d drawn earlier had finally all been processed within him. He would grow no further, but that had worse implications than one would think on the surface. That wouldn’t stop the Deity, though. He knew the consequences of his actions. Oh, he knew. There was a reason why Deities didn’t usually try the same trick he did (stealing the allegiance of the creations of others). He was just one of the bolder Deities, driven and perhaps insane.
<And this bastard took my weapon too...> Boron had just thought when he found himself in a different location altogether.
...!!!
It was a bizarre sensation. It felt like the world around him had shifted to move him from his previous position; it happened in something far more phenomenal than an instant. It didn’t make any sense...especially when considering that Boron himself could tell exactly what had happened. His eyes bulged as they stared at the battered, immense figure of the Empyrean Hatcher a distance away.
...Then he turned behind him, where the Sovereign was floating above the uneven ground (blasted to hell by the impact from his clash with Quintess). It wasn’t just him, though. Fulgardt, standing adjacent to him, shocked, also turned to the Nullinity’s Herald.
Skullius had whisked them away from the Hatcher before they could comprehend it. His Garmma Mail hummed, cathlunked, and then crackled with Ju`wtte. His presence was overwhelming – so overwhelming in fact that...
[The Six-Handled Chariot of Probable Royalty, ’Tycha’, acknowledges you as its master!]
[You may name it]
[...]
[...]
[The Six-Handled Chariot of Probable Royalty, ’Tycha’, pays its three tributes...]
[You now have access to the ordinal powers of Bestowal and Bewitchment, and Removal and Railing]
[You now have access to the Maverick Wafer Arsenal]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[Congratulations, Skullius...]
It was VOW, or rather, Wyrrim speaking then as she announced the most important tribute of all.
[You are a special case, a Bearer, and are thus relieved of the same seals as others]
[You shall have no dominion outside of your home]
[You shall not be recognized as distinguished royalty by outsiders]
[You shall only obtain half the ordained gains that you are otherwise mandated to have while governing your domain]
[However, it is set in stone]
[You have taken the seat of the Fourth Authority of the Null Verse]
[You are the Null Devil King of the East, Skullius Festos Dawn]
[...]
[...]
[Your Broader Existence is empowered by 370,000%]
[Your Null Life Essence reserves have been increased by 5,000,000,000%]
Mortals couldn’t sense Null Life Essence, but it was different on the Divine stage. Both Fulgardt and Boron were nearly forced into a coma by the sudden spike in Skullius’ strength from what it had been. As if they needed to watch their enemy growing infinitely stronger. It was harrowing!
What Skullius had become, neither of them understood, but it seemed the Bosom did. It had once housed someone with such powers, such authority. It skewed, leaving a bulky dark outline around Skullius – giving him his due space.
At the same time, Tycha rose above the Sovereign. His torso crumbled, becoming a small, conical pedestal beneath its bowl-like head. Its six hands remained, two holding up said head, and four pointing in the four cardinal directions, but there was a grace to it now. It might have been some carefully crafted crown.
Skullius, with the helm of the Garmma Mail on, hardly seemed impressed by all this. His attention, in fact, was on Fulgardt. With a flick of his finger, he took something out of spatial storage. It was a silver key with swirls of darkness and light branded onto it.
The Voiding Key.
Fulgardt recognized it at once.
It was the reward given to those who made it out of the Hall of Fulgardt within the Labyrinth of the Yoke; a prize that gave them some allowance and ownership over the place.
"I’ve overindulged us with the pleasures of my own domain. Why don’t we visit yours, Fulgardt?" said Skullius. He didn’t intend to give the Immoral a say in the matter.
Better yet, he didn’t need the Voiding Key for what he did next.
Two of the hands on Tycha pointed at the Immoral and Boron, and then suddenly, both of them saw only darkness.
...
...
Darkness had different meanings for both Skullius and Fulgardt, but they seemed to understand it on a deeper level than others. Perhaps that was why, upon entering the Labyrinth of the Yoke, they saw each other in their barest forms.
Fulgardt was no longer adorning a Bare Guise or taking on the physique of a Voided Deathform. He was simply him – looking more human than he’d had in many years.
Skullius was standing a few dozen meters away from him in the thick darkness. He was the Hybrid Warmoth with slicked back honey-coloured hair and none of the absurd power he’d just obtained.
Fulgardt gave a deep sigh. There was no fury in his eyes anymore. At least for now.
"What is this? Are you taking a page from my book and acting arrogant at the worst possible moment? You think you’re invincible now, so impossibly strong that you can fight me within my own domain and win? You should have killed me instead of indulging these theatrics," he said, and he glanced at the thing behind him, hanging somewhere within the thick wad of darkness.
"I’ve never once thought myself to be invincible, Fulgardt," said Skullius and he too eyed the thing behind the Immoral. His (Fulgardt’s) secret. "Since our little skirmish in Maqi, though, I understand why you think you’re untouchable. I imagined this was how you really survived Boron’s halberd."
The thing in the darkness rasped. You never would have thought it was human just by looking at it, or that it was Divine. It looked worse than a corpse – tortured, flayed, deformed. It was Fulgardt’s real trump card: family.
’What remains of its face really does look a little like Fulgardt,’ Skullius thought, and then he chuckled.
Fulgardt raised a brow. "You brought me back here to make me watch you laugh at him?"
"Oh no. Of course not," said the Hybrid Warmoth. "No one forced me to fight you, Fulgardt. I told you earlier. I’m holding myself to that decision and the new outlook I’m thinking of adopting. I want no excuses from you when I win – no ands, ifs, or buts. This is your chance. Give me everything you’ve got."
At once, Fulgardt went mad with fury.
"Everything, huh?" he said, scathingly.
---
[Author’s Note]
Aaaand we are switching perspectives again. Yaaaay! I know, I know. This is the last switch to the other battles, and when we switch back again, it will be the final act of the Saga. Not much more remains to this battle, but it will close everything – and I mean everything – to do with Aigas.
In any case, what did you feel about this stretch of Chapters? I know it feels weird because the updates aren’t consistent, but I am trying not to make this unnecessarily long. Do give me your feedback. The good and the bad. And if you’re interested, please visit the Patreon for art and two exclusive side stories that build on the last volume of the book: (1) Intentions of the Lich and (2) Bonero’s Absurd Adventures.
Thanks for reading!
