Chapter 982: Odin’s Realisation

Chapter 982: Odin’s Realisation

Marvel. Wonder. Architectural triumph. One of the great achievements of the age. The Twin Cities have been described in such glowing terms for over a millennium and truly they are deserving of their reputation.

Situated on the same mountain, Mt Atraem, they can be seen many kilometres away, glittering like matched jewels in the distance.

Dressed in peerless Soul Silver, the lower city gleams like the finest polished swords. Home to several million citizens, the Silver City is the beating heart of a great and enduring empire. Its six walls and twelve towers are so heavily enchanted with wards and protections it can be painful to look at them with the naked eye.

As impregnable as it is beautiful, visitors have so many sights to take in, one simply cannot hope to catch them all.

Yet it is above that the true vision lies. Carved from pure Heart Gold, the Golden City glows radiant from the upper reaches of the mountain, a glimpse of a luminescent heaven.

Palace after palace, castle after castle, each one a peerless work of art such that the finest carvers and builders weep to look upon them. The Scholars’ tower, rising like a spear into the sky, a house of learning and knowledge unequalled in all the realms.

For those lucky few who are able to catch a glimpse, the Imperial Compound, home to the Child-Emperor himself, is a sight so rare, and so marvellous, as to be without equal in all Pangera.

The Twin Cities of Silver and Gold. Seat of the Emperor and Capital of the Atraem Empire. Truly a wonder of the modern age, may they stand forever.

– Excerpt from ‘Travelogue of the Fourth Stratum – Sights to See’ by Wandering Wallace.

Human life had been hard on Odin Malum, and he had learned to be hard in return. Carving a bloody place in the world had been his purpose and he had relished the challenge.

His rebirth had similarly been difficult. Yet this world had been much like the last, only the veneer of civilization was different. Kill or be killed. Fight to live, surrender and die. These were rules that Odin understood, and so, for the second time, he had thrived in difficult circumstances.

Deep down, he had thought that perhaps here, he might truly be free. Rather than kill for others, or to make himself useful, or defend that which wasn’t his, in this world, he could kill and gain strength for himself only.

That had been a short lived dream. The vision of Arconidem the Demon God had robbed him of that illusion. Being in that presence, he couldn’t bring himself to believe that he had any alternative but to obey. It was normal, in a dog-eat-dog world, for someone to be the alpha. Odin had bowed his head to power before, he would do it again.

And so he had fallen, fallen into the power of a being so much older than he, and had been lost for a time. The lure of Arconidem was so seductive, so powerful. His demon body craved indulgence, it needed to kill, to revel in death and destruction. The Demon God whispered to him constantly, urging him to let go of control, to succumb to his influence and enact his vision.

Odin couldn’t recall the past week, not totally. There had been blood and death, ash and fire, of that he was sure. The great demons had been with him at times, at others, they had not, but even so, he hadn’t questioned their mission.

Until now.

What the hell was that?! Some sort of Black Hole?

He’d very nearly died his second death. He could recall running along with the horde, but he had no idea what they’d been chasing. Then it had… appeared, booming into existence in front of him, a terrifying visage of the end-times.

For one brief, horror-stricken moment, he’d thought the world had simply ended. The howl of the wind, the groan of the earth, all things being drawn into the void, never to be seen again.

It had been enough to shock his mind out of the rut it had been stuck in.

Without the lightning fast reflexes he’d trained as a hitman, or the incredible capabilities of his new demon form, he would be dead, without a doubt. Lashing out with his blades, he’d latched into his own allies, using their flesh to lever himself away from the singularity.

It almost hadn’t been enough. Before he could escape its pull, he’d been caught. In that terrible moment, he’d lifted into the air, losing his last grasp to the ground and began to fall toward the heart of the beast.

Thankfully, it had flickered and vanished before he’d come into contact with it.

Returned to his senses, the former hitman had stood on the plains, surrounded by the shell-shocked remains of the demon horde, bewildered. He had no idea where he was, or what he was doing, but several things were clear.

Whatever hold Arconidem had on him was temporarily broken. The whispers of the Demon God were still there, in the back of his mind, but for the time being, Odin was firmly in control. Secondly, his minders, the mighty tier eight demons, were not here.

He had slipped the leash.

Instantly, he made a snap decision and raced away, his lithe and powerful form making great distance in short order. He had to put distance between himself and the horde, lest he be found.

He needed to free himself. He would be nobody’s dog, not this time.

Smoke and ash filled his lungs as he ran, like sweet summer air to a demon. One thought pounded in his head to the same rhythm as his feet on the stone. He’d thought the Ancient was invincible, that nothing could possibly stand up to a creature like that.

But something MADE that black hole. Whatever it is, I have to find it.

Any monster capable of such an incredible feat would be worth knowing, even if only so he could avoid it. Until he was stronger, of course. After all, if one monster could get that strong, then why not him?