Chapter 186: The Last Command

Just as Rion’s eyes turned pitch black, the spear fell out of his hand, and he froze.

The flame monster’s body finished reforming itself, and it struck Rion right at his abdomen, its fist detonating at the impact.

Purple flames exploded outwards.

The ground trembled, and Rion flew backwards, purple flames latching onto his body.

Haden appeared in the path of his body, wrapped his arms around him, and poured the red aura over the flames licking his body, extinguishing them.

Just as the flames disappeared, he was finally able to see the current state of Rion’s body.

One of his hands was gone completely, severed and reduced to nothing. His entire upper torso was scorched and blackened, looking no different from burned coal, and his eyes were pitch black, as though someone had painted them with living darkness.

Haden gritted his teeth. His hand swept gently through Rion’s charred form, trembling with restrained rage, before he slowly turned his head toward the creature that had reduced his son to this condition.

Fury blazed in his piercing red eyes, but he did not rush forward to strike. Instead, he used the instant step to appear outside the crater, placed Rion by one of the boulders and said, “I know you can’t hear me, but… Do not worry about me.”

He let go of him, turned around and added, “Take as much time as you want.”

With a powerful leap, he dropped back into the crater and dashed toward the flame monster, which had strangely slowed its movements.

The flames surrounding the creature were far more violent than before, writhing like a living storm. The ground near it melted from the sheer heat radiating outward. Yet Haden appeared before it regardless, cleaving straight through the oppressive heat with his spear and slamming the weapon directly into the creature’s abdomen.

The monster was sent streaking toward the edge of the crater, its body tearing through the air, and Haden chased after it without hesitation.

Uncontrollable rage burned behind his eyes.

The ground beneath his feet fractured with every step, the sheer weight of his force cracking the earth as he unknowingly pushed himself far beyond his physical limits. In a blur, he reached the crater’s edge before the monster.

The flame monster turned midair and clawed towards Haden in a crossing arc.

Torrents of purple fire blasted outward from its strikes. Haden planted his feet firmly into the ground and spun his spear at blinding speed, turning it into a rotating barrier.

The flames crashed into the spinning weapon and spread outward in all directions.

His spear began to glow red under the heat, and the ground before him softened and melted into molten slag.

With a sudden motion, he lifted the spear and slashed downward, splitting the ocean of flames in two.

The flame monster fell into his vision, and Haden surged forward, his aura-coated hand seizing its neck in the next instant.

He lifted the creature, smashed it into the ground, and drove his aura-clad spear straight through its chest.

The monster split itself into two halves to escape his grip, but Haden followed it like a phantom, his speed reaching levels he had never witnessed.

Even so, he remained slightly slower than the flame monster.

The creature roared, unleashing waves of purple flames in every direction.

Haden halted abruptly and spun his spear with all his strength.

The surrounding air converged toward the centre of the weapon, and the flames rushing toward him were drawn into a spiralling vortex, swirling around the spear like a blazing tornado. He swept it away in one massive arc and charged again.

—

Rion’s eyelids fluttered open as something slimy brushed against his skin. His gaze shifted to the dark spawn at whose edge he lay.

“Where am I?” he asked himself, and as if the spawn had chosen to answer, a cry echoed from the depths.

Another followed. Then another. Then another. Soon, countless cries — old and young, men and women — filled the darkness. Rion instinctively mumbled, “Was I pulled inside the Corrupted Abysmal Flame?”

He stood and looked around. His eyes fell upon black mucus that coated the strange world trapping him, though he could not see the faint golden glow radiating from the areas of his body touched by it.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the swamp. The viscous substance flowed toward him. He ignored it and took another step.

The cries grew louder.

They came from every direction, yet he found no soul upon which he could use his Absolute Will.

He kept moving. With each step, the cries intensified until they became screams.

His pace slowed as pain split through his head. “Why does it feel so odd?” he muttered.

He examined his hands. They looked the same, yet something felt wrong. His body felt dry — he could no longer sense the endless life essence flowing through him.

Shaking his head, he pushed forward with clenched teeth. A golden glow poured from his back, though he remained unaware of it.

Every step worsened the agony, but he refused to stop.

Multiple times he collapsed to one knee, yet forced himself upright again, knowing that everything depended on him.

Time lost meaning as he finally reached the swamp’s centre. There, his gaze fixed upon the wailing mountain of souls.

He shuddered. His headache intensified, and he dropped to his knees.

Several souls broke away from the mountain and spiralled around him, their mournful cries tugging at his sanity.

Suddenly, the headache began to lessen, and the golden glow that had been becoming brighter and brighter began to dim.

Rion pushed them away. The moment he touched them, fragments of their lives flooded his mind, and he fell into the dark mucus.

He gasped for air, struggling to calm his thoughts and reject the memories overwhelming him.

He stood again and moved toward the wailing mountain.

As he drew closer, more souls gathered, and more memories followed.

He ignored them all.

He wanted to accept their stories, but he had no time. Even if he wished to, he could not place the dead above the living.

He reached the mountain and began climbing.

Endless memories surged through him, and the golden glow dimmed rapidly.

Every step carried unbearable grief, yet he did not falter.

Even when insanity threatened him, he climbed.

Climbing became his only purpose. Freedom for the souls was his only thought.

Just as he reached the top, the golden glow that had been pushing back the dread of the souls dimmed entirely.

Rion’s body stopped listening to him, his mind began to go blank, and his eyes rolled back.

As he sank into the wailing mountain, words escaped him, “Let there be light…”

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