Chaosbound: Elarith Chronicles

The Obsidian Arena

The Swordking arrived at the designated meeting place: the old coliseum, a decaying shell of ancient grandeur tucked away in the forgotten, farthest reaches of SternHand. The silence here was absolute, broken only by the mournful whisper of the wind whistling through gaping archways like a dying man's last breath, carrying with it the gritty dust of millennia and the faint, metallic scent of rust from forgotten cages.

Amidst the debris-strewn ground, a man with gray hair tied in a neat ponytail faced away from the crumbling entrance, speaking to a small boy. "Thank you, Whiz," the man said, his voice surprisingly calm in the desolate space, a stark contrast to the oppressive quiet. "Your part is done. Send my regards to the lady."

As the Swordking watched, a shimmer distorted the boy's form, his edges blurring like heat haze before he vanished as if he'd never existed. A cold recognition slammed into the Swordking – the boy was the same unnatural messenger who had delivered the cryptic notes, his sudden disappearance confirming a deeper, unsettling truth.

"So, you arrived." The gray-haired man turned, his expression unreadable, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips, though his eyes remained utterly devoid of warmth, reflecting only the desolate stone around them. "My name's Aurel."

The Swordking's carefully held restraint shattered. "Where is my grandson?!" he thundered, his voice raw with a fury that vibrated through the crumbling stone. His gaze, hot as a forge, burned through Aurel. "Where is Glen?!"

Aurel's lips curved into a faint, almost pitying smile. "Relax. He is safe. And so are the people in the city. I'm sorry if I used underhand methods to get your attention, Swordking. You see, I only came for you, and only you, but you were far too busy. I couldn't waste today as a golden opportunity to finally meet you."

"Why are you doing this?" the Swordking demanded, his eyes narrowing as he finally registered the unsettling aura around Aurel. A peculiar energy, dark yet oddly familiar, radiated from him, prickling the Swordking's skin. "An Abyssal?" he questioned, a hint of surprise, almost disbelief, in his tone.

Aurel shook his head, a wry twist to his mouth. "Sorry, no. I'm not one of them, but I'm sort of an Abyssal. I'm not sure myself, actually." He gestured around the desolate coliseum with an almost casual sweep of his hand, as if inviting the Swordking to appreciate the decay. "Anyways, I have a story to tell."

"I have no time for your storytelling!" the Swordking growled, his patience evaporated, replaced by a growing, dangerous impatience. "Tell me why you are doing this, now!"

Aurel raised a finger to his lips, a soft, almost condescending "Shhhhhh, shhh." escaping him. "This is a good story. Listen. You know, I would be upset if you don't pay attention. When I'm upset, I don't know what I'm gonna do. Maybe I'll tell my chaos beings to destroy the city? Or maybe I'll blow up this coliseum with us in it?" His eyes held a disturbing glint of genuine unpredictability, and the Swordking's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

The Swordking's voice dropped to a lethal whisper, his power beginning to hum, a low thrum that vibrated through the very ground beneath their feet. "You know you can't run away from this. Even if you escaped now, I can find you, and I will kill you, and everyone else involved in this. I swear it."

Aurel merely shook his head, a look of profound disappointment on his face, as if the Swordking had missed the point entirely. Then, he began his tale. "You know, there was once a boy. Smart. Good-looking. Very promising. He was blessed with warrior divinity, much like yourself, I imagine." Aurel paused, his gaze fixed on the Swordking, as if watching for a flicker of recognition, a crack in his formidable composure. "The boy grew up to be very strong. He traveled the world, driven by a fierce sense of justice, investigating the darkness in this world, making sure to destroy all evil he found. He investigated, he fought. He had friends who accompanied him. The boy valued justice, he was loyal to his code as a warrior. But he wasn't just a warrior; he was too brilliant, he was a scholar."

A cold dread tightened in the Swordking's gut. A face, long buried under layers of duty and sorrow, clawed its way back from the forgotten past. Ron? The name tasted like ash on his tongue, a ghost of a laughter he hadn't heard in decades.

"Focus!" Aurel snapped, his voice sharp, almost a lash, pulling the Swordking back to the present with a jolt. "I'm not done yet." He continued with the story: "The boy and his group of adventurers defeated an evil man who controlled dark forces. They celebrated. But this evil man had secrets. He knew of secrets. Secrets that would lead to the boy's demise. A powerful divinant made sure that the secret must never go public, so he ended the boy. He struck with his sword, and ended the boy's life. The killer also made sure to kill those who travelled with him."

"Who are you and how did you know of this?" the Swordking demanded, his gaze raking Aurel's face, searching for any flicker of recognition, any hint of familiarity. "No matter how I look, I don't even know who you are!"

"I'm not done yet," Aurel reiterated, a chilling intensity now in his eyes, a hunger that had not been there before. "One of the boy's companions somehow managed to survive. And was also gifted the power of chaos. He swore not to avenge his friend's death and live a happy life somewhere else. But the memory of his friend's death haunted him. His heart grew heavy, burdened by the past. He couldn't move forward if his heart continued to carry this weight. So, he came to seek that revenge. For Ron."

The Swordking's face became grim, devoid of any warmth, all traces of his initial fury replaced by a cold, dangerous resolve. "So what now?" he challenged, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You come here to kill me?" He let out a short, sharp laugh, devoid of mirth. "How utterly predictable. Even if you are an Abyssal, or an Athenarri, it doesn't matter. Your obsession blinds you; your revenge is futile." The Swordking attempted to taunt, to ridicule, to break Aurel's composure, to find a weakness.

But Aurel merely laughed in return, a choked, scornful sound that escalated into a guttural, almost insane cackle, tinged with a raw, broken grief. "Pah! Fufufu! Pwahahahaha!" His laughter abruptly died, his face becoming deadly serious, all humor draining away. His eyes, once a neutral gray, darkened to bottomless pits, pinpricks of malevolent light burning within them, radiating pure, palpable chaos energy. His body began to ripple, enveloped in a swirling shroud of raw, corrupted power that writhed like agitated smoke, tendrils of darkness reaching out to consume the faint light. The very ground beneath their feet groaned, and the ancient coliseum itself seemed to turn inward, the light fading, plunging the entire space into an oppressive, inky blackness. The air grew heavy, crackling with untold power, as the entire coliseum was consumed, transformed, by Aurel's chaos domain.

The Swordking, unflinching amidst the terrifying transformation, observed the expanding chaos, a silent, unwavering pillar against the encroaching darkness. "Impressive," he stated, his voice calm, betraying no fear, only a clinical assessment. "You are strong." Then, a serious resolve hardened his features. Rings of shimmering, ethereal energy, each humming with a unique, resonant frequency, began to manifest beneath him, expanding outwards like ripples in a cosmic pond, each one glowing with a different, vibrant color. They enveloped his entire body, pulsing with incredible might, the air crackling with their raw power. The first ring hummed, boosting his physical power until the very ground groaned beneath his amplified weight; the next, a luminous green, sharpened his senses to an impossible keenness, allowing him to perceive the very currents of chaos. And then another, and another, an infinite cascade of radiating rings, each one boosting him further, pushing him beyond mortal limits. An ethereal sword, seemingly forged of pure light and distilled will, snapped into his hand, humming with divine power, its brilliant glow cutting a stark line through the encroaching gloom.

The colossal avatar of pure energy, a towering Warrior God, manifested behind the Swordking, radiating an aura of absolute, unconquerable power, a beacon in the encroaching chaos. Its ethereal form mirrored the Swordking's stance, a silent, indomitable promise of might.

"I'll show you why I am called the Swordking," he declared, his voice resonating with ancient authority, a declaration of intent echoing through the transformed arena.

The Blade Dance

The clash of the Chaos Divinant and the Strongest Divinant was about to begin.

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Aurel moved first, a blur of motion, a dark streak against the churning chaos. His sword, wreathed in crackling chaos energy that hissed like angry snakes, met the Swordking's divine blade with a thunderous CRACK that sent a physical jolt through the ruined coliseum. The impact point flared, a brief, corrupting purple light against the Swordking's vibrant shield. Aurel, a blur of motion, shimmered through his chaos domain, each strike a precise, preternatural jab designed to find the smallest chink. But the Swordking moved with the grounded power of a tectonic plate, his multi-hued rings of enhancement singing with a low, resonant hum. His divine blade, a flashing arc of pure light, became a defensive whirlwind, the very air around him vibrating with the force of his parries.

"I admit that you are powerful," the Swordking's voice boomed, calm amidst the clang of steel. "But I have years more experience than you. I can see from your technique that you have knowledge in warrior arts, but you lack the true power of a warrior."

Aurel's lips twisted into a faint, bitter smile. "I am not a warrior, of course I'm not. I'm a Chaos Divinant! What I lack in combat power, I compensate with the power of chaos. I'll let you see that you are not the strongest being in this continent."

As he spoke, Aurel's free hand swept through the air, summoning shimmering balls of chaos energy that streaked towards the Swordking. They weren't mere projectiles; they pulsed with corrosive energy, designed to disrupt and overwhelm, leaving behind trails of smoky, corrupted air. But the Swordking didn't evade. His divine blade met each sphere, parrying them with a resonant clang, the impacts causing the orbs to dissipate into brief explosions of pure light that cleansed the lingering chaos. For every chaos orb Aurel launched, the Swordking countered with a precise, divine counter-strike, his movements pure, unblemished martial art. Aurel, in turn, used brief bursts of chaos energy to propel himself away from the Swordking's counter-attacks, making his movements almost liquid and unpredictable.

The exchange was a brutal dance: the grounded, experienced power of the Swordking, a true Warrior Divinant, against Aurel's chaotic, unpredictable blend of warrior and mage. The coliseum, already a ruin, shuddered under the sheer force of their blows, dust clouds erupting with every impact. Aurel's chaos domain pressed down, a stifling weight that felt like a draining cold, seeking to weaken the Swordking, but the Swordking's divine aura pulsed defiantly, a bastion of warmth and unwavering resolve, holding the oppressive energy at bay. It was a close match, their power seemingly equal, but the Swordking's long years of experience granted him a subtle, undeniable edge.

The Unfair Advantage

Then, Aurel's eyes widened, a flicker of something akin to enlightenment crossing his features. "I'm not a warrior, of course I'm not!" he repeated, the thought solidifying into resolve. "I'm a Chaos Divinant! What I lack in combat power, I compensate with the power of chaos!"

He snapped his fingers, and from the swirling darkness of his domain, two figures materialized. "I'm sorry, my Anima are part of my power, so this isn't considered cheating," Aurel declared, a chilling grin spreading across his face.

The first, a lithe, shadowed figure, was Eryn, who instantly conjured larger, pulsating chaos energy spheres, more potent and volatile than anything Aurel had yet thrown. The second, a robust, weapon-clad presence, was Rindel, who immediately summoned a swirling vortex of spectral weapons – axes, swords, and spears – that launched themselves at the Swordking from all directions.

"Where is your honor?!" the Swordking thundered, fury reigniting in his eyes as he parried a volley of spectral blades while simultaneously deflecting one of Eryn's massive chaos orbs. "Fighting three against one?! It doesn't matter, I can still beat you all!"

Aurel merely laughed, a sharp, unfeeling sound. "Honor as a warrior? You just told me I am not a warrior, so why should I use that warrior code of yours?"

While Eryn and Rindel pressed their relentless assault, Aurel floated upward, his two hands rising, palms open, as if conjuring a star. A colossal, dark chaos sphere began to form between them, crackling with malevolent energy. Dark lightning sparked from its expanding circumference. It grew, expanded, then violently compressed; then expanded again, compressing, like monstrous, unseen waves. This was the same theory he used to expand and compress his chaos field to change its effect, but now applied to a single, focused point of annihilation. The expanding and compressing process exponentially increased its damage potential, making it a weapon of unimaginable destructive power.

Eryn, momentarily distracted by the spectacle, let out an awed gasp. "That is a beautiful creation, Master!"

Aurel, his focus absolute, yelled down to Rindel, "Scram! Avoid getting hit!" Rindel, understanding the command, pulled back, his summoned weapons dissipating. Eryn, not waiting for a second instruction, also flew upward, swiftly forming his own, albeit weaker, version of Aurel's chaos sphere. "I'll help you, Master!" he shouted, his eyes gleaming with mad admiration.

The Swordking sensed the danger, a primal alarm blaring in his mind. This was not a mere attack; this was absolute obliteration. He had no choice but to summon all his divine energy, every ounce of his power, even if it destroyed him in the process. "Damn, I can't believe I am at a disadvantage!" he gritted out. This was his last resort. He mustered every shred of his being, drawing boundless power from the rings enveloping him, deciding to wholly embody his divinity, becoming a bastion of pure defensive might. His entire form became a blinding pillar of light, fortified against the coming storm.

"I'm not done yet," Aurel smiled, a chilling promise, as he finally released the titanic chaos sphere, a black sun hurtling towards the Swordking. Eryn, a moment later, launched his own, smaller, but still devastating orb.

Then, from the air, a series of shimmering dimensional rifts tore open, revealing a horrifying spectacle: Aurel's pocket dimension disgorged an army of chaos beings. Those armed with ranged weapons immediately began aiming, opening fire with a barrage of corrupted energy bolts. Those who couldn't shoot prepared for a close-quarters assault.

The Swordking, encased in his divine shield, saw everything, and a deep, guttural roar of betrayal erupted from him. "DAMN! THIS IS AN OVERKILL! Where is your honor, Aurel?!" But even as he shouted, he braced, pouring every last scintilla of his strength into his defense.

BOOOOMMMMM!

The combined clash of Aurel and Eryn's chaos spheres with the Swordking's divine shield was an apocalypse unleashed. A seismic wave of pure force obliterated the entire coliseum, turning ancient stone to dust. The ground beneath them convulsed, splitting open into a massive crater that seemed to swallow the very earth. It was destruction at its finest, raw and untamed.

But it didn't stop there. The chaos army opened fire, a relentless torrent of corrupted projectiles. Eryn continued to hurl energy balls, adding to the relentless, unending barrage. This truly was an overkill. The destruction radiated outwards, a terrifying wave of obliteration that almost reached the capital city. Aurel, floating above the maelstrom, did not stop. The barrage of projectiles and chaos energy continued until Aurel finally, sickeningly, felt satisfied.

A Cruel Mercy

Then, it ceased. The silence that followed was deafening, a physical pressure after the apocalypse, broken only by the settling dust and the distant groans of the ravaged earth.

The body of the Swordking… it was brutally hurt. His right arm was gone, vaporized. His hair, once long and flowing, was scorched away, leaving his scalp bare. He was naked, his clothes having not survived the cataclysm. His body looked like a charred, broken husk, raw flesh exposed.

But he was still breathing.

Aurel floated down, a cautious figure amidst the lingering chaos, still enveloped in his defensive buffs and a shimmering shroud of chaos energy. He dared not underestimate the Swordking, even now. The Swordking, propped up by his left hand and his sword, was barely kneeling, breathing in ragged, painful gasps.

"Aurel," he rasped, his voice a ghost of its former thunder. "You won. But please, listen…"

Aurel landed a few feet away, his expression unreadable. "Go on," he replied, his voice flat. "Speak your last words. If you have any request, I might grant it."

"Aurel... I cannot die. I must not die. The world is in danger. If you kill me, the Malice Bloom will be out of control. It is planted in my heart. If it stops beating… it will go out of control. My heart is a conduit, an artifact planted by my master, the previous Swordking." The Swordking coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "I will not apologize for the mistakes I have made, the people I killed… your friend Ron. But everything I did… it was for humanity. All I ever did was to protect humanity. I am bound to it. You will never understand… I am not begging for my life because I'm scared of death. I am begging you to spare me… for the people."

Aurel was confused. He focused, reading the Swordking's energy, probing for deceit, malice, or manipulation. There was none. Every word resonated with an undeniable truth. This… this couldn't be real. The burning anger in his heart is still not quenched, yet he believed every desperate, raw word the Swordking uttered. There was no deceit in his voice, no hidden agenda in his exhausted aura.

"Damn it!" Aurel cursed, a frustrated groan torn from his throat. He stood there for a long moment, the chaos energy around him flickering as his rage warred with the unexpected truth. Slowly, he calmed, his face a mask of disbelief and frustration, sitting down heavily on a shard of ancient stone.

The Swordking struggled to maintain his kneeling pose, his left hand and his sword the only things keeping him balanced.

"What now?" Aurel muttered, looking up at the smoke-choked sky, his certainty shattered. "Is this… is this truly enough? Should I risk it for an old lie? The Malice Bloom… so this is the secret you were hiding, huh? I wonder what other secrets you have… Tell me, what other secrets do you have that made you kill Ron?"

Aurel stood up, turning his back on the Swordking. "Very well," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "You can keep your life. I'm done here."

As he was about to depart, a shadow detached itself from the deeper darkness, swift and silent as a viper. A hand, not Aurel's, not Eryn's, struck through the Swordking's chest from behind, plunging deep, and with sickening ease, extracted his heart.

An unknown man… no, it was a Menis, a shadowy figure of impossible speed, appeared out of nowhere. Aurel wasn't able to react, frozen in shock. "What the…?"

It happened all too fast. The Menis spoke, its voice, dry as parchment and seemingly devoid of origin, whispered, "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm keeping his heart. You have done well, Thyranthe." Then, it unraveled into the lingering shadows, vanishing as if it were a thought rather than a physical being.

Aurel stood utterly shocked, the chaos energy around him flaring wildly with his confusion. "What just happened? Who was that? I was going to let him live, but that thing killed the Swordking just like that!"