Chapter 131 – Salvation or Damnation

Raise the flags of Salvation when the world as at doom’s door.

Raise it when the world comes, the Hero that tries to prevent it is alone and mortified while swimming in a pile of corpses and blood. The red shaded land, the grotesque abominations that fill the lands, toppling it as if they flowers and trees.

See the giant hills made of corpses, the bloody figure with a whitened hair stood with a bloody sword made of energy that can erupt and kill anything that it touches. Ghastly smoke appears on the body of this person, a line of light comes from his eyes, blood red, and filled with the souls of those he killed.

The brand on his arm filled with malicious intent capable of killing everything in sight. Armor of Gods, a body made of steel, a blood of fire, and a heart that is glass.

Hear the Agony of Salvation, the Hope that lingers on his glass heart keeps his soul protected from the eternal darkish flames of the cosmic abominations that fill those who would see a bit. Despair runs like a river, the sky nothing but a drip of suffering that would do nothing but make men mad.

This person stood as nothing but a Hero that stands in the eye of the storm. Bravely facing as if he is a machine that is born to kill, this man, this Hero promised to save the world. He is saving the world from despair, yet somehow the burning flames of cosmic horrors and dwellers of hell linger upon the land with seething rage capable of razing towns and villages.

How many numbers of beings did his sword passed through could not be counted anymore, his feat has passed that of legends and even the strongest Hero of this continent facing this horde of abominations that replenishes as the original witch of the world appears, bringing the beings from the other side mainly to put him into despair.

The Reaper, the Carnifex, Julian Nostredame knows nothing about giving up. He is a Hero that has now passed through, stepped through hell and back, this place, the dark elven lands is barely a land anymore. It is merely a hellish place filled with a past race that carries a grudge at the Hero that contains the slaughtering Legion before him.

Look and behold Julian as he brings himself up from the pits of despair, his figure ever bloody, yet the whitened hair, the conjured sword on his made him look like the light of salvation.

Julian is the only glowing light in this land filled with corpses, the shining figure of his, his toned body as if carved by the Gods themselves. Behold, his mighty eyes, facing the everlasting Legion that appears from holes of black, coming from the wells of the abyss and hell.

Roar as they go they march upon loudly like they are rules of this forsaken land. The grin on their mouths, the sword in their hands, the armors carved and forged from entities that could not possibly hold a candle to what the humans of the continent can muster.

All of the evil has concentrated on this single continent, the Dark Elven Land is no more, this is merely the entrance, the designated area where the evil came, the cruel crawls out of their pit like maggots from hell. Julian, oh poor Julian raised his arms, stretched his legs as he arrives like a blazing meteor, annihilating four hundred fifty monsters with a single blow.

Oh poor Julian, his body ever so turning into blackened metal, his armor made of energy, turning, slowly forming into a real armor that he can only wear. It is a mystery how this armor formed, but if looked upon, it is merely a result of the souls turning into feed for Julian.

Julian has acquired an ability to feed on souls, the monsters around him can also be cannibalized, he can now eat the disgusting blackened meat, that came from the corners of the abyss and hell, their taste that of lower than dung, Julian preferred souls now.

His soul, ever so big, ever so bright is now tarnished with corrupted souls, yet these souls could only taint him, not ever will it consume him. For Julian has turned his mind into the hardest steel, it could not be pierced, nor will it ever be scratched, but with his mind turning into hardened steel, his heart, made of glass slowly, but surely turn into blackened steel.

Cold pragmatic choices appear on the top of his head. His sword may be swinging but his mind is elsewhere. The fighting does not stop, He could not fight forever, or will ever do so for eternity. Julian now has a choice; this choice is a suggestion from a fragment of soul, damned, branded into him. This choice came from the Nephilim inside him, the Nephilim that handed him his power made Julian choose.

He could slay the monsters here until the abyss is left empty, or will he build a throne, crafted from their souls, turning the demons, cosmic horrors and abominations into slaves that fear him. Doing so would relieve him of fighting, but he will be however trapped in this throne, containing the higher beings that try to devour the continent of Hillines.

The lesser beings, the smaller time demons, however, would escape the land, and at the same, he will be able to slay the demoness that tortures him. Her laughing, confident smile will crumble, and Julian will have his victory. But in exchange he will win; the world will be saved from utter doom’s end.

However, he will be trapped in the throne of souls, his body preventing, enslaving the cosmic horrors, acting as the gate, the seal that will stop them from pouring out of the land. The Demoness has already torn the gates that connect the realms, and for Julian, he needs the years to seal them up.

But Julian can always slay them off forever...but doing so would have him fighting for eternity without stop. Thus, Julian, as he defeats another army of unfathomable horrors slowly decides on what his choice will be.