CHAPTER 473

BREAKING THE CHAINS (VI)

Lino stood stone-faced, the look in his eyes partway maniacal and partway confused. His lips trembled faintly in the ripping winds, his tattered cloak fluttering behind his back. Staring sternly at the elevating figure in the distance, one draped in feathered wings of black and Chaotic Qi far purer than his own, with the same quality and resonance as his own, a thousand bolts of lightning seemed to have exploded in his mind simultaneously.

Among many expectations he had of today, learning Ashtar’s identity was not one of them. Rather, he never even tinkered with the idea – yet, the curtain was folded, and the truth was staring him directly into his soul, cold and uncaring.

“—linger, linger, sweet summer child,” Ashtar suddenly hummed, a swirl of Qi concentrating around him causing a small storm to erupt. “Behold the light of my Dawn; and ire of the lore so forgotten – linger, linger, I am now begotten.”

“… the first… indeed,” Lino grinned placidly, clutching the Edge’s handle ever-so-tightly. “You’ve hidden yourself well.”

“Hidden?” Ashtar quizzed, tilting his head. His black hair grew asudden, tripling in length, fluttering madly in the violent winds bounding him. “I hardly tried to hide. Few just ever took me into consideration.”

“—you can’t seriously expect me to fight you, now, do you?” Lino chuckled bitterly, taking in a deep breath. “Even if I was twice as strong, I’d fail short of your expectations.”

“Don’t be so humility-bound, Lyonel,” Ashtar said. “You are plenty strong already. If you weren’t…” his voice seemed to trail off toward the end. “I’d have never invited you here…”

“The first Empyrean… the first Prime… the first Devil… you really like hogging the titles, don’t you? Are there any more I’m unaware of?”

“… plenty,” Ashtar chuckled dubiously for a moment. “But today is not the day you'll learn them. Perhaps, if fate wills it, eventually you'll know. Eventually, he'll tell you. Oh, how proud I made him. How broken, in turn, he made me.”

Thousands of thoughts trailed through Lino’s mind at that moment; the realization that Ashtar, a figure he'd learned about almost at the very start of his journey, someone he merely considered one of Ataxia's 'generals' of sorts, was so quintessential to the evolution of the world had struck him hard. Effectively, it was he who established the line of Empyreans – the trail of Records, the concept of a living being beholding Chaos itself. It was him who began the lineage of Primes, the first native-born, to Lino’s understanding, of Noterra.

If so, he pondered in the depths of his soul, why was he confined and chained to the dull, colorless, ravaged landscape of Hell? To a throne adjacent to the Great Lake of Fire, to the lineage of countenance, of unbridled pride? To forever invade the Realms of Races, only to never conquer them? Lino didn’t know the answers to these questions, though he imagined he’d learn them one day, not too far from today.

Could he defeat Ashtar, now and here? No. There wasn’t even a possibility for it, which was a cold-blooded realization. Ashtar didn’t have a level; though a distinct reason escaped him, it was, in the end, one of the two – either he was so powerful levels could not compute his strength, or he lived outside the entire concept of levels, of Cultivation itself. After all, for better or for worse, he was the catalyst to the creation of Devil Qi – something that did not naturally exist. Even Chaos Qi, and even Primal Chaotic Qi, exist – or at least existed – naturally. Devil Qi didn’t. He fashioned it, tinkered with it. It didn’t matter that Ataxia helped him; he was still the prime catalyst for it.

There were too many threads and links attached to a single figure for Lino to properly process everything. He’d learned of many monumental souls who individually managed to shake and change the world, yet not a single one of them managed to define it as well and as much as Ashtar did. Perhaps only Ataxia and Gaia, to Lino’s knowledge, could measure in the impact they had upon the world.

After all, before him stands the soul which drew the majestic Titans to extinction. Before him stands the figure which had, through the vestiges of history, always ended whatever he set out to end – be it wars, conquering, conflicts, or even eras of peace and tranquility. Yet, to many, he was merely the Origin Father of Devils – a hazy figure living someplace in the shadow and shade, largely unimportant individually.

If only the world knew, Lino mused. But it would be the same if the world knew many other things; perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, the world is for the world knows not. What would a layman farming the land gain from knowing who Ashtar is? Nothing. To them, that knowledge would be just like any other tale and myth their parents and grandparents shared with them, and one they will share with their own children and grandchildren.

Taking a deep breath, Lino managed to settle somewhat. There was no point in pondering and wondering – there was something in front of him that he had to deal with right now and here. Gripping the Edge once more and pulling it into a backhand, he bent forward slightly as six pairs of Wings erupted from his back, six white and six black, feathered in make. Though lacking when compared to Ashtar, it wasn’t as important as some other factors.

Channeling both Chaos Qi and Primal Qi, his body grew hazy, edgeless and boundless, doused in perennial shadows of darkened make. Within them, blights of light flashed here and there, white trails like worms mingling within the smoke. He ceased being a human once more, encased in flowing shadows, becoming something more.

“Come, the Last Empyrean,” Ashtar bellowed, suddenly throwing his two blades into the air and summoning nearly forty more to dance alongside them in the air, stunning Lino once more temporarily. “The Dance of Entropy shall commence at last!”

“--,” Lino mumbled, ignoring everything else. “All begins Anew, ends in the Epoch; may Will Bind Us – 72nd Form of the Sword – Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.”

Qi around him raged, pulling earth beneath his feet in a streak of an upward roar; it blasted conically as he fluttered his wings, the winds fervently blowing. Space around him collapsed, tearing open like an old scar, as he bolted forward, bounding tens of miles of distance in a flash; no, in less than a flash.

Thirty-six swords floating around Ashtar shuddered all of a sudden, shimmering in a fiery haze for a moment before descending, forming a metallic shield in front of him. A figure clashed into it right after, causing an explosion that uprooted the Laws of Nature, throwing them all into a burning storm. Ashtar blew backward, roving his arm above in an exaggerated manner. The thirty-six swords seemed to follow his movements, trailing along the path, bounding in a circle and spreading open, striking at Lino from all angles, having formed a full band.

The latter's eye flashed in terrible color as his sword-holding hand blinded the light itself; over a thousand cuts exploded, slices of the blade cutting through everything in their wake – thousands of flashes of white erupted in the high-skies, blasting back the incoming sword, forming tens of shockwaves that spiraled and rippled out violently. Lino's body flashed once more, trails of black-and-white smoke billowing behind him, as he broke past the encirclement, slicing away with the reverse grip.

Nearly two thousand phantoms of white light bellowed out like caged beasts, each as tall as a small hill, blinding the surrounding darkness; weeping amidst the fiery blasts, they blocked and purged, colliding with another shield Ashtar formed rapidly. The formation broke, trails of white light sizzling over his skin, forming painful wounds that seemed to refuse to heal.

Seemingly unaware of them, Ashtar’s face remained a mixture of calm and excited. His right arm shuddered as he moved in strangely, forming a half-circle and cutting it twice over before pushing his palm out toward the center.

“,” the voice trailed into Lino’s ears. “Begone, Bearers of Holy; Shatter, Thou Impervious – 70th Form – Alight the Stars, Adarken the Living.”

The thirty-six swords cried out in unison, spacing out and forming a massive sword of individual ones; it bounded for over two miles altogether, the gaps in-between the swords filled with a crimson-coral fire burning energetically. Throughout the heart of the blade, however, there was nothing; its edge fully alight, shining brilliantly, yet its heart dark, empty, body nowhere to be found.

It collapsed all of a sudden, tracing through the high-skies and ripping through the currents of spacetime, pressing against Lino. The latter felt the entire commodity of movement stopping to a crawl; he could barely breathe, let alone move freely, yet he had to repel the falling blade somehow.

"—" the Edge in his hand shuddered suddenly, seemingly wishing to rip itself off his grip. It pointed upwardly of its own free will and began expelling violent streams of pure, holy-white light that formed an equally-sized, yet seemingly far more powerful, mirage of the blade. "…doth not question My Reign…" the voice was whispery, indiscernible, trailing along with the steps of wind. It calmed Lino immediately, causing all fear and anxiety to vanish.

The boundless, white energy exploded outward in a beam-shaped burst, piercing the falling sword and the sky above. The burst was so powerful that it seemed to shake the entire world; so blindingly bright and everlasting, its realization was visible from Noterra to those who glanced upon the sky during the few seconds it lasted.

The Edge seemed to calm right after, falling back down, held up only by Lino’s grip. The latter sucked in a cold breath, glancing once more at the blade he felt somewhat uncomfortable using.

“—a Proud Soul,” Ashtar spoke, a trace of bemusement in his voice. “Disallows its owner to act the role of sheep. Live up to your Blade’s expectations, Lyonel! Cease fretting, fearing, trembling; call upon your Will, upon your Heart, Mind, and Soul. Be the Empyrean…"

“…” Lino glanced solemnly at the figure elevated slightly above him, extending his left arm and opening up the palm, face-up. “Astha, Fyur, come.” a moment after his voice trailed off, two flashes of light blinked upon his palm, one heavenly-golden, the other heavenly-silver. Even when merely as large as a toenail, they shone as brightly as some of the sky's largest stars. Lino felt his exhaustion vanish at that moment, replaced by the newfound energy. Would it be enough? No, he still knew. Though unable to realize why was Ashtar dancing around and humoring him, he was willing to play the game out till its very end to learn.