I Can Assimilate Everything-Chapter 321: Blood III

Under the ominous silver red gleam of the moon above, the Lunaris Throne rose through the spires of the cathedral, the sickle of darkness trailing behind him like a shadow with weight.

The air shimmered with heatless bloodlight, casting his silver-lined robe in streaks of crimson as he floated upward into the cold, open night.

His feet still held the blood of corpses from the basement of the Cathedral.

Around him, the grand metropolis of the Capital of the Lunaris Colony Dynasty pulsed with life.

Towering structures layered with moonsteel reflected the faint silvery glow of starlight.

Dozens of aerial vessels cut through the skies- pearlescent hulls gleaming as they hovered in formation near the Lunar Dreadnaught, an enormous warship stationed like a behemoth as his forces waited for him there.

Its glowing runes formed constellations across its hull, a floating bastion of power.

On the nearby platforms, Judges of Lunaris and Dharma Kings walked proudly in ceremonial armor, standing watch over the heart of their dominion. Their eyes carried certainty. Belief. Trust in the one who now floated above them as they looked up, astonished to see the dark scythe he carried.

But not far beyond, a delegation of High Elves glided through the air on radiant wings of emerald light, their presence immaculate.

They numbered in the hundreds. The ambassadors of their race, tasked with observing this particular Colony Dynasty.

Among them were two Celestbone Stage beings, ancient in gaze and terrifying in their stillness, and ten more of the Luminblood Stage flanked their vanguard. They were sent to survey, to measure, and to claim their share in the unfolding tide of destiny here.

The Lunaris Throne hovered high, his eyes sweeping over the city- over the people, the loyal soldiers, the judges, the ancient observers.

All of them basking beneath the moonlight that he once called his dominion. He held the Dark Star Scythe in both hands now, the weapon’s runes whispering in voices only he could hear.

He asked, his voice a trembling breath, "What of the Ancient Ones? The High Elves? They’ll see. They have Celestbone entities among them as likely, they’ll interfere..."

The reply came without pause. Cold. Commanding.

"Fear," said the voice of the Primordial Light of Darkness, "is a tool for lesser men. You are not lesser. Not anymore."

The words curled like smoke within his mind.

"They are not your judges. They are not your masters. They are meat. Souls wrapped in flesh. You give me what I ask. I care not whether they call themselves ancients or mortals. I require only one thing."

The scythe pulsed violently in his hands.

"Soulfire."

The voice grew deeper, crueler.

"Do not ask again. Do not stall. If you hesitate once more, I will find another fool to wear your skin and do what must be done."

A tremble ran through his shoulders. The Lunaris Throne gritted his teeth and looked downward, locking his gaze on the crowd near the Lunar Dreadnaught. His Judges. His Dharma Kings. The loyal men who had bled for him. Who moved under his command for years!

A new light flared behind his eyes. Madness. Resolve. Shame.

"If I must," he whispered.

He raised the Dark Star Scythe.

With a clean, sweeping arc, the blade cut downward.

A half-moon of stellar darkness surged from the swing, shaped like a crescent of the night sky. It screamed as it flew. And when it struck the platform...

"AAAAAHHH!"

BOOM!

The screams came instantly.

The Dharma Kings below had no time to summon defenses. Their eyes widened in shock, in betrayal, before the attack landed.

A roar. Then silence. Blood and bone erupted.

The blade’s light dug through their armor like paper, their bodies exploding in grotesque bursts that splattered their entrails across the polished moonsteel.

The scent of burning flesh hit the air. Soldiers nearby stared in horror, unable to comprehend. Their knees buckled, mouths open as if to call out his name- but the scythe spun again.

Another wave.

This time, Judges.

They bellowed and fell with no time to scream.

Their limbs torn. Skulls cracked open. The Lunar Dreadnaught shook from the shockwaves, those around it scrambling and watching in disbelief as the man they had followed for years slaughtered his own!

Up above, the delegation of High Elves stirred.

Chaos was unfolding beneath their feet, and their mission was not this one. And yet...

A figure moved.

One of the Celestbone Stage High Elves surged forward, green hair shimmering like sunlit leaves. Another followed beside him, and behind them, ten more Luminblood Stage warriors took flight.

They raced through the air, arriving near the center of devastation.

"You mad bastard," the green-haired High Elf roared, eyes glowing with anger. "Lunaris Throne, what the fuck are you doing?!"

His voice cut through the night, commanding and seething.

"You’re reducing Planar Destiny with every life lost!"

...!

His words held no grief for the dead. Only anger for the fate that slipped away with them.

Inside the mind of the Lunaris Throne, the scythe burned.

The voice returned, calm and powerful.

"Look at them. Ancient Ones."

"They pretend to guard destiny. But what do they truly care for? The people? The families? No. Only the numbers."

"Even now, their outrage is not for death- but for lost opportunity. Lost potential."

The voice paused.

"They do not know it yet, but they too... carry the dust of fate. They are twice as valuable."

A surge of power rushed through him, like dark waves flooding into his chest. His spine cracked as it straightened, his limbs burning with new might.

He felt it. The threshold of the Neuronova Stage drawing near.

The Lunaris Throne laughed- sharp and bitter. Then, he leapt forward.

Toward the High Elves.

The sky split with his movement. The sickle gleamed once more as he hurtled toward them, each swing cutting through air and reason.

Behind him, the capital of Lunaris bled beneath a moon the color of sorrow.

The war had changed.

And the first spark of madness had already begun to set everything ablaze barely a day after the Triarcan Keep ended!

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶