Warlock of War: My Ares System
507 Convergence of Aether and Miasma
My hand, wrapped in the chaotic energy easily slipped through her chest. She displayed no emotion, but for some reason, it felt as though she was covering my vision. I was a fool at that time to not see further as I was so lost in the continuous power… but four other enigmatic figures were in the back, carefully watching me with intense malice.
"Do not kill him… I beg of you."
Those were the words that I could lipread from my mother. After delving back into memories, I was able to uncover that, but at that time, I thought she had something different. I mean, her face was so uninterested and almost bored that it looked like she could have yawned at any moment, so of course I would have thought of her as an evil person.
Soon I was banished down to the depths of hell where I was forced to fight my way through hordes eldtric monstrosities. And at that time, hell was no more than a breeding ground for failed projects created by the primordial beings. So, I fought… and fought… and fought… and fought… and fought… until I could no longer.
Two Eons later, I woke up.
…
In the transcendent transformation that ensued, the calm and collected man found himself forever altered, his very essence now a symphony of divine light and infernal darkness, a living paradox.
His right side, bathed in the celestial radiance of the upper portal, underwent a breathtaking metamorphosis. His flesh became luminous, suffused with the opalescent hues of angelic beings. The celestial light seemed to permeate every fiber of his being, casting a gentle, ethereal glow that emanated from his pores. His arm, elongated and slender, appeared as if it were crafted from shimmering crystal, a testament to the otherworldly purity of the heavenly realm. From his head, a third magnificent horn emerged, resplendent and majestic. It resembled the horn of a divine unicorn, spiraling gracefully towards the heavens, emitting a soft, melodic hum that resonated with the harmonious energies of the cosmos.
Conversely, his left side was ensnared by the dark and demonic properties of the lower portal. His skin turned an ashen, obsidian hue, marred by grotesque, raised veins that pulsed with sinister power. His arm transformed into a gnarled, muscular appendage, its obsidian claws dripping with malevolence. The very air around him seemed to grow cold and oppressive, as if it bore witness to the maleficence that coursed through his veins. Upon his brow grew another horn, a fourth horn painted jet-black and twisted like the horn of a diabolical fiend, curling menacingly toward the abyss. It emitted an eerie, discordant resonance, a dissonant counterpoint to the celestial horn on his opposite side.
The man's face bore the most striking contrast of his transformation, split down the center by an invisible seam that demarcated light and dark. His right eye glowed with a radiant azure luminescence, akin to the most sacred of sapphire gems, a beacon of heavenly wisdom that held the secrets of the cosmos. In stark contrast, his left eye smoldered with a fiery crimson malevolence, resembling the ember of a raging inferno, a harbinger of infernal wrath that threatened to consume all in its path.
As these contradictory forces converged within him, the man's aura became an enigmatic blend of divine and diabolical energies. A shimmering, iridescent halo of celestial light encircled his right side, casting an aura of purity and grace that radiated outward, bathing the surroundings in a soothing luminescence. This aura exuded an alluring serenity, captivating all who beheld it and invoking a profound sense of awe.
In stark contrast, an ominous, swirling maelstrom of dark energy enveloped his left side, casting shadows that danced with sinister intent. This nefarious aura exuded an aura of dread, an unsettling presence that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared approach. The air grew heavy with foreboding, and the very ground seemed to quiver in response to the malefic influence.
The man, now a living paradox, stood at the confluence of celestial light and infernal darkness. And instantly, his transformation deepened, his powers became even more pronounced, and he extended his influence over the very weapon he wielded—a magnificent, ornate lance that had been his constant companion.
The lance, once a singular instrument of power, now underwent its own transformation. With a mere thought, the man willed it to split in two, each half gaining their respective elemental properties, further emphasizing the duality that now defined him.
The right half of the lance, infused with the celestial radiance, became an exquisite manifestation of divine might. It gleamed with an otherworldly luminosity, the metal of the weapon seemingly woven from the very fabric of the heavens. The blade, razor-sharp and pristine, shimmered with a gentle, opalescent glow, mirroring the ethereal beauty of the celestial realm. As the man brandished this heavenly weapon, it emitted harmonious chimes that resonated with the celestial choirs, a symphony of divine grace and purity.
Conversely, the left half of the lance, tainted by the infernal darkness, transformed into an instrument of malevolent power. Its surface grew ashen and jagged, resembling the volcanic rock formations of the deepest abyss. The blade, cruelly serrated and wickedly curved, exuded an aura of pure malevolence, as if forged from the very essence of torment. When the man wielded this infernal weapon, it emitted eerie, dissonant whispers that seemed to beckon the darkest depths of the abyss, a cacophony of diabolical intent and destructive force.
As the man embraced these dual weapons, he became a living embodiment of the cosmic struggle between light and darkness, wielding the power of celestial purity and infernal malevolence with equal mastery. With each strike, he unleashed the conflicting forces that coursed through him, causing celestial and infernal energies to intermingle and clash in a symphony of elemental chaos.
And most must be wondering, what exactly happened to Orion during this time. Where was he? Why didn't he try and stop this transformation? Well, it's simple. Two words could insatnly describe what had just happened.
"[Time Stop]."
As if obeying the commands of some enigmatic cosmic conductor, time unfroze with a shudder. Reality rippled outward from the epicenter of the man's celestial-demonic presence. The infernal abyss below him roared back to life, as the nightmarish world resumed its relentless cacophony of torment. The monstrous entities that had been momentarily stilled by the cosmic pause sprang to life, their grotesque forms writhing and wriggling with newfound malevolence.
Lava rivers flowed once more, their molten currents carving jagged paths through the desolate wasteland. The ashen sky darkened further, as if to mirror the resurgence of the infernal hellscape. The very ground shuddered, echoing the renewed anguish that permeated this nightmarish domain.
The demonic runes upon the man's infernal lance pulsed with a sinister intensity, and the twisted shadows cast by its malevolent aura grew deeper and more malefic. The very air grew thick with dread as the dark energies surged through his veins, their influence extending to the surrounding abyss.
In stark contrast, the celestial realm above seemed to breathe with life once more. The heavenly light cascaded down, bathing the ethereal landscape in its radiant glow. Flowers that had briefly wilted now stood tall, their vibrant colors restored. The crystal-clear streams sparkled with renewed vitality, and the whispering voices of benevolent angels filled the air, harmonizing with the gentle rustle of leaves in the celestial forests.
The man himself stood at the nexus of this resuming cosmic conflict, his dual elemental lances twirling gracefully in his hands. His celestial eye gleamed with azure wisdom, and his infernal eye smoldered with crimson malevolence. As time unfroze, he became a living embodiment of the eternal struggle between light and darkness, a cosmic sentinel in the heart of a surreal battleground where the forces of good and evil clashed in a symphony of cosmic chaos.
"What the fuck… what the hell are you?" Orion shivered, every single cell in his body instictively drawing him back. And as if a bell had rung, signaling the toll of existence to pay respect to this man, a voice echoed across the clashing throne worlds.
[Ascension of The First Crucified has finished]
The heavenly realm above, with its resplendent meadows and pristine streams, appeared to echo the anxiety that coursed through the cosmos. The radiant light, while still luminous, seemed to flicker with uncertainty, casting shifting shadows across the celestial landscape. Even the harmonious whispers of benevolent angels took on a trembling quality, as if they too were uncertain of the unfolding cosmic drama.
High above, atop distant thrones, the Greek gods watched with trepidation. Their eyes, usually filled with divine certainty, were now clouded with uncertainty and anxiety. Zeus, the king of the gods, sat upon his majestic throne of thunderbolts, his brow furrowed as he gazed upon the celestial-demonic clash below. Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Apollo, god of light, occupied their own thrones nearby, their expressions a mix of concern and bewilderment.
Yet, as they looked down from their divine perches, a mysterious force seemed to envelop them, preventing them from intervening in the unfolding drama. It was as if invisible shackles bound them, restraining their powers and rendering them powerless to influence the cosmic struggle.
"Those fucking bastards… gather the other Olympians…" A voice boomed across Olympus, ordering every single being to follow the deity's enraged will.
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