Chapter 164: The Firstborn

A deep, thunderous rumble rose from within the heart of the purple fog forest and rolled outward, spreading across the vast expanse of the red and black mountains like an awakening omen.

The Remnant advanced toward the core of the purple fog forest, their pace unhurried and heavy, as though constrained by the decaying shell they inhabited — a withering body whose putrid flesh sagged and sloughed away, hanging from the neck down to the waist in rotting strands.

When they finally reached the forest’s heart, they collapsed onto their knees and clawed at the dark, saturated soil. Blood-mingled tears streamed endlessly from their crimson, grief-stricken eyes, staining the earth beneath their trembling hands.

Shimmering, half-formed words seeped out through them as they searched with desperate resolve, as though seeking a long-buried truth.

“Mother… you shall have your revenge. They will pay for their treachery. The heaven you once dreamed of shall be whole again. I, your firstborn, will see to it.”

A faint metallic clang echoed beneath them. Their hands froze mid-motion, fingers curling around something concealed beneath the blackened soil. With a sudden wrench, they tore it free from the ground.

A harsh metallic rattle reverberated throughout the forest as a dark chain emerged. The chain was unmistakably ancient, its presence in such a place deeply unnatural, yet that revelation was only the beginning of what was to unfold.

As the final chime of the rattling chain faded into the southern wind, the earth quaked violently, and ghostly purple flames burst forth from beneath The Remnant.

The flames latched onto their form with ravenous intent, and before a single cry could escape them, they vanished — if not entirely, then at least their current vessel did.

Within moments, the flames surged outward and flooded the entirety of the purple fog forest. Trees, miasma, and fog alike were erased without leaving so much as a trace behind, until the inferno reached the dense boundary of kareths standing at the forest’s edge like blasphemous statues sculpted from dark flesh.

The flames that had consumed everything else did not devour the kareths. Instead, they invaded their bodies, slipping inside as though welcomed.

The kareths convulsed violently, their agonized screams ripping through the mountains and echoing like a discordant chorus of tormented souls.

The hornless, one-horned, and two-horned kareths abruptly detonated into fragments of dark flesh.

They were not consumed. Rather, the scattered pieces writhed and crawled toward one another like living worms, fusing back together. One by one, they reformed into pitch-black humanoid monstrosities with two dark horns jutting from their temples like a twisted crown — only for those humanoids to explode once more.

This grotesque cycle repeated endlessly, again and again, until every kareth — from the hornless to the towering five six-horned — had been reshaped.

The kareths, or perhaps the humanoid monsters they had become, no longer differed by horns alone. Instead, throbbing purple lines etched themselves across their bodies. The hornless bore no lines, the one-horned carried a single line from crown to heel, the two-horned bore two, and so forth.

This was not the only transformation they had undergone through reformation. Their strength had also increased drastically. Each of the six-lined now possessed power rivaling that of a former seven-horned.

Yet, despite their shared rebirth, the monsters were far from uniform. Some possessed writhing tentacles in place of limbs. Others bore arms shaped like blades or maces. Some were studded with jagged spikes running the length of their arms, while others had elongated limbs that dragged ominously against the ground.

The dull, lifeless grey eyes of the five six-lined monsters abruptly ignited into crimson. All of them dropped to their knees simultaneously and drove their arms deep into the withered earth.

The ghostly purple flames that had inundated the forest shifted direction, flowing toward them and assembling into a massive, ominous pentacle.

The chain that had spread throughout the purple fog forest stirred. As the flames carved the pentacle into the ground, they converged toward its center, where the ancient chain coiled into itself like a serpent devouring its own tail.

The flames diminished gradually, shrinking further and further, until within moments they condensed into a single ghostly purple flame, black wisps spiraling and churning within it.

The chains rotated around the flame as though binding and sealing it within their embrace. Suddenly, withering, decayed hands burst forth from the dark soil, and hundreds of The Remnant’s bodies emerged, marching toward the flame in silent procession.

Their flesh burned away, their bones dried and cracked, yet they did not falter. One after another, the bodies were reduced to ash, until only seven remained standing.

Their charred bones struck against the chain as they seized it, muttering in an ancient, rasping voice, “It has been… an era since last I used this… [Eternal Seal].”

SINGULARITY — THE ETERNAL SEAL!

The chain surged into the seven bodies of The Remnant, tightening mercilessly around the ghostly purple flame.

Bones splintered, and their bodies began to crumble into ash, but unlike before, the ash did not disperse. Instead, it gathered near the chain, clinging to it as though drawn by unseen force.

More and more ash adhered to the chain, layering itself thickly, until at last a humanoid figure took shape at the center of the pentacle — long white hair cascading down his back, eyes ablaze with purple fire, and two dark, gleaming horns crowning his head.

The Remnant examined his palm with a faintly amused glimmer in his gaze and murmured, “It feels wondrous to at last have my true body… but alas, it shall not remain so for long.”

His gaze pierced through all things and settled upon Rion, who stared at the humanoid monsters with terror etched into his features, mingled with a strange, nostalgic glint.

A chuckle like the rattling of an old, rust-eaten chain slipped from The Remnant’s lips as he whispered, “So thou didst meet Mother before she truly became herself. Oh, Prince of the Crimson Army… let us begin the final act.”

He stepped forward, and the monsters stationed at the edge of the scorched forest stirred to life.

Their combined howls and roars shook the heavens, and in response, Dhaevrak’s war cries thundered from the north.

Purple flames erupted from The Remnant as they intoned, “The World.”

At the same moment, the sky began to bleed red, and a single word answered from the opposite side, “Varzath.”

Both of their domains unfurled, but unlike before, they were no longer confined to a mere clearing. Instead, they expanded outward, engulfing the red and black mountains in their entirety.

The southern half of the range transformed into a murky, festering swamp filled with thick, black, nauseating liquid, while the northern half reshaped itself into jagged peaks that stretched upward toward the ominous eye, staining the sky crimson.

The mountains had become red and black.

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