Chapter 143: Belobog

A face as pale as marble, and without a flaw, just like a doll. The top of the right part of his face was cracked, broken, and out of some sort of light ring coming out and going around his whole head. Like a halo that had fallen down and had broken him. Its other remaining eye was of a golden color, yet no pupil, rather, inside rested hundreds of triangles inside each other, getting smaller each time. Some were turned slightly, making it addictive to look at.

His hair was short, but enough to slightly fall on the top of his only eye, a paler gold than his eye, which was the color that his hair had picked up. It waved around flawlessly, yet as it got closer to the broken part of his face, it got burnt, becoming dark and straight with rough ends.

His neck was of decent size, not too long, not too short, enough to notice the trails of marks leading up to his jaw, ending before getting to his face. He didn’t understand what they meant; it wasn’t written in a language he recognized.

His wings were long, the feathers perfectly white, like the snow on top of a high mountain, untouched by anything. Yet, as the statue woke up, they had retracted, becoming smaller.

Wearing a white tee, ragged and torn, he could notice the marks through the holes of his shirt. Around his wrists, he notices some golden handcuffs, yet the chain was made out of the light trails coming from the people’s crest.

Speaking of it… on the back of his hand, resided the same crest. Meaning… that this angel… was the hero of the Kingdom. The one in the statues. Yet he looked so much different.

Looking at his ears, he noticed two holes, yet only one of them had an earring. Made out of pure silver, it was long, shaped into a star. And if the handcuffs of his sins weren’t enough, silver chains hung all over his shirt. He wore them like a necklace, letting them fall all over his chest and back. To show the world how much he has wronged.

This… wasn’t the angel he had seen before. It wasn’t what he had seen in the statue. But… of course it wasn’t. The statue was a perfect image of what he was trying to be. And what was hidden inside was his real self. A flawed angel with more sins than many demons.

A fallen angel.

He groaned in pain as the grip around his hand intensified. He fell to his knees, trying to slip out of his grip, but it just wouldn’t work. He could feel his wrist slowly breaking. And the angel wasn’t even trying to make it quick; it was intentionally making it slow and painful.

…Aether summoned his blade with his speed, making it pierce the hand of the angel, making it bleed. It let go, allowing Aether to quickly crawl back, as it examined his wound. He looked, surprised rather than impressed… disgusted, annoyed, furious even.

Aether watched as from the place Voidpiercer had pierced him, light appeared to flow down, as if it were blood. As if it were completely made from the light of others, the deeds and energy of his people.

The angel got up from its throne, the world shaking beneath its feet as one of its handcuffs turned into a sword made entirely out of light; he could even see through it. As if it were translucent.

The pomel was circular, of oval size, and the hilt was short but thick. With the cross guards shaping upwards at the end. The blade itself was sharp on both sides, almost identical. With its point coming directly in the middle, it looked to be able to pierce anything its wielder wanted. It looked sharper than Voidpiercer, and its whole thing was piercing.

Aether got back up, gripping Voidpercer tightly. He took his guard, but the next second the angel had shot up to him, pressing the sharp edge of the blade against his blade’s fuller. He tried to fight, to hold his ground, but he wasn’t strong enough, his feet failing to stand their ground. Before he could even realize, he was flying straight against a wall. The impact was more painful than he could imagine.

’Bring me back.’ To think that he could crack jokes like this, on the point of passing out, on the point of death, he could still joke… or was it not a joke?

Really, it was times like these that he looked at his journey; he had done nothing but fight people stronger than him, no one had ever beaten a Seeker as a Reader, and yet, he had done it many times now. Yes, he had needed to have a relic that revealed their exact weakness, and a lot of strategizing. But still.

He had fought a Breaker, damn it, and he had won, barely but still.

What even were these books, I mean, this angel guy couldn’t be weaker than a Bearer, so what the heck was he supposed to do? He was lucky he lived through its first attack. And this was a Reader book? How?

Had the Codex had a stroke while ranking these books?

He mumbled many curses under his breath as he tried to get up, but failing, after all, the bones in his legs were broken; how was he supposed to stand up?

His eyes darted to Jay, who was also in a bad condition. He didn’t know what had happened after that hand grabbed him, but because it was most likely that angel’s fault, it couldn’t be anything good.

The fallen angel looked at them, not smiling but not frowning in anger either, but with a neutral expression, he made his way to the Heartforge and touched it with his hand. At that moment, thousands of trails of light darted out, wrapping around his arms like chains. The marks on his neck also got brighter, as if they were reacting to the light.

Was he… getting stronger?

No… he couldn’t let that happen, but what the heck could he do?

He tried to crawl, but he couldn’t; his ribs were cracked, and even the lightest of movements hurt him like crazy. His nails scraped the floor as he tried to get closer, but to no avail. What could he ever do? When his vision was getting darker and darker, as he was losing more and more blood.

What could he ever do?

’Damn it…’

His eyelids started to become heavy, to the point that he could hardly keep his eyes open from time to time. Yet, in that small crack, he saw a pair of feet. His eyes burst open as a figure appeared in front of him.

He looked up and recognized the figure.

The Abyss.

It looked at him with a deep frown, spitting next to him in a sign of mockery and humiliation. It didn’t lean down or crouch. It stood high above, asserting its dominance.

“What a pathetic sight…”

…

Aether frowned. He was furious. What was his deal coming out of nowhere and making fun of him? He had tried his best; he was a Reader after all. What was he even supposed to do? Plus, maybe his affinity would help him even a little in combat.

“Shut up, it’s not like you would know what to do in my place!”

The Abyss burst out laughing, which caught him off guard. Had he said something funny, it wasn’t meant to be funny.

“Oh, but I do know, and I think it’s quite obvious… but I guess someone like you would never think about it…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Abyss turned around, staring at the Heartforge.

“Humans like you who are weak and only depend on their weapon, would never think to…” Turning its head, the Abyss had a wicked smile on its face. “Throw their blade.” And with that, he disappeared into the air. Leaving him alone.

Looking at his hand, Aether noticed it, Voidpiercer, still inside his hand.

Staring for a second at it, he quickly raised his arm and drew it back. He aimed it at the crystal, but aiming was harder than supposed; with his hands shaky, he could hardly keep it straight.

After stabilizing it, he threw the blade.

…

Watching as it pierced the crystal straight in the middle…

…

In the end, the sound of the little pieces from the destroyed crystal falling on the ground echoed in the room. But there was no time for resting. After the crystal was destroyed, the angel stopped and suddenly began to shake and fall to the ground, dying.

’So… all this time, the light of the people were doing nothing but keeping this thing alive?’

Aether used his chains to get his blade back. Before raising it again… this time aiming it at the angel.

….

“See you in hell.”

…

The blade pierce the air as if flew towards the fallen angel.

…

…

[You have killed a Harbinger Titan, Belobog]

[Your knowledge grows stronger.]

…

Aether sighed… it was finally over, he had reached the original ending of the book. Now, he just needed to do one more thing.

He looked over at Jay; the boy was very injured, not able to move; it was his chance. Getting his blade back, he raised it once more.

…

But as he was about to throw it, the world seemed to shake even more than before. As where the thore was, a giant hole began to appear.

Something was coming, something, or someone strong, maybe even stronger than the angel.

…

Aether watched as a shadowy hand appeared from the hole.

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