The Heart Of Chaos

The sudden mention of his mother's name froze Abaddon in place, his muscles locking up as if unresponsive.

"Did I strike a nerve, young Abaddon?"

The creature hissed, its voice dripping with malice.

"The eye above you doesn't just observe; it's a high-level soul artifact I devoured along side a wealthy brat decades ago. Within my Swamp domain, it glimpses the memories of any victim trapped here."

The shadowy being leaned closer, its many faces twisting with malevolent glee.

"I know what you seek—your desire to uncover the truth of your mother's death. Your childhood friend... too. Isn't that right, little Drakon?"

Abaddon's eyes widened. He knew the creature's promises couldn't be real, and yet the temptation gnawed at him. The chance to see even a fragment of his mother's essence was too enticing to ignore.

The monster loomed before him, its grotesque form a tapestry of shifting faces, and continued in a tone that echoed with dark persuasion:

"All you need to do is drop your weapons… and surrender."

The words seeped into his mind, loosening his grip on the razor-sharp skeletal limb in his hand. For a moment, the possibility of yielding took hold. Then, in a sudden jolt, a surge of chaotic energy tore through his body, snapping him back to reality.

Abaddon spun around defensively, but it was too late. A crushing blow struck him with devastating force, sending his weakened body tumbling across the bony floor.

Though it had seemed as if the creature loomed before Abaddon just moments ago before he struck, the truth was it was merely an illusion created by the Swamp Shadow-King, designed to stealthily strike from behind with its tempting allure... and it nearly succeeded.

Lying in a pool of his own blood, Abaddon struggled to rise. His body was battered, his muscles deflated from the creature's relentless siphoning of his strength.

"Look at you!, still trying to fight, even in this pitiful state? I'm impressed. Tell me, Drakon, how did you know it was an illusion? Was it… the essence?"

Abaddon weakly lifted his head, his dark silk hair falling away just enough to reveal his piercing eyes. A ragged cough escaped his lips as he spoke, his voice strained but defiant.

"Come now, since when did we become buddies? I'd prefer you call me human, not my name. That way, I won't have any regrets when I kill you."

He could feel it deep down—his condition was dire, far worse than he cared to admit. This was the first truly life-threatening battle he'd ever faced, one he never imagined would come to pass.

'This is the second time the Chaos Heart of Ashura has saved me. Without it, I'd have been cleaved in two by that strike. Even with Metallic Rage active, these wounds are... severe. But it was worth it—I can see the end now.'

Through his blurred, hazy vision, his attention locked onto the towering figure approaching him. The Swamp Shadow-King loomed over him like a monstrous behemoth, its presence suffocating.

"You're done"

The Shadow-King sneered, its voice a mix of amusement and malice.

"Your mantra is completely drained. At this point, even a mere Vermin Class-I Myth could finish you off. But I'm curious..."

A faint smirk tugged at Abaddon's battered lips.

"Oh? And what could a mighty Magical Beast Emperor possibly be curious about when it comes to a dying man like me?"

The Shadow-King's grin widened, dark and full of malice.

"I could have ended you the moment you stepped into my domain"

It said, its tone laced with cruel satisfaction.

"But I toyed with you instead. Do you know why, human?"

Abaddon's weary but curious expression prompted the beast to continue.

"I wanted to see what you were capable of as a divine vessel. Yet, you've disappointed me. Entirely. If you'd unleashed that overwhelming energy I sensed within you earlier, you might have had a chance to defeat me. But humans... always so foolish. Always worrying about the aftermath when the moment demands decisive action."

'A Ravager Class-III Myth'

Abaddon thought grimly.

'At this point, it's no different from human. During this fight, it's shown complexity—tactics, strategies, intelligence. It's nothing like a mere beast. That's what makes it so dangerous. Feeding on souls and memories has elevated it to this intellectual height.'

The Shadow-King wasn't finished.

"Fear of harming your friend when you unleash that dormant power holds you back, doesn't it? You pity them. I see it now—you hesitate because of them. You talk boldly, but you're in denial about who you truly are. Do you think you're cold-hearted? Evil? Emotionless? No. That's just a fragile façade. A truly selfish, ruthless Ranker would have unleashed their full power from the very start. But you, even with death looming over you, still hold back. How... pathetic."

These words struck Abaddon deeply, leaving him conflicted and hesitant. As much as he tried to deny it, there was a grain of truth in them.

"You think I care about them? What irony. Don't be mistaken—I'm not here to fight in their steed. I'm here to destroy you myself. I couldn't care less about anyone else"

The Swamp Shadow-King smiled from its many grotesque heads.

"Oh really? Your hesitation says otherwise. It's the truth: emotions are the perfect chains to bind you. I may not be the oldest of my kind, but let me enlighten you before I devour you. Perhaps in your next life, you'll learn more about what lies beyond strength."

With a wave of its energy, the beast lifted Abaddon telekinetically, forcing him to look out across the vast, desolate expanse of its domain.

"Look around. Do you feel it? The weight of the lives lost in this place—their cries still echoing. You stand among the broken remnants of the weak. They were once like you, full of ambition, full of hope. They thought they were stronger than me. And yet, here they are, nothing more than shadows."

Abaddon's gaze flickered across the domain, momentarily uneasy, before he replied.

"I don't need hope or ambition to put you down. I only need power. And if they were weak, it's their own fault. Isn't that the natural law of the jungle?"

The beast let out a dark, guttural chuckle.

"Ah, power... such a fleeting thing when pursued without understanding. Typical humans. You think the strong prey on the weak, but true strength lies in crushing one's own weaknesses. It lies in discarding the worthless burdens of 'humanity.' Isn't that why you hesitate? Fear of destroying those you still care for—those who are already dead to you?"

Abaddon narrowed his eyes. Though he refused to show it, the creature's words gnawed at him.

"You keep clinging to that idea, but you're wrong...I don't fear unleashing my power on this domain. I fear what I'll become if I do. That's something you can't understand. My power is my greatest strength... but also my greatest weakness."

The beast's dull green eyes glinted, intrigued.

"Weakness, yes... but let me ask you this, human: don't you wish to destroy me? Why not unleash everything and finish the task? You're here to grow stronger, aren't you? Isn't that what power is all about? Why let emotions and attachments cloud your judgment? They're chains, binding you to a fleeting world. Why hesitate when you could break free and dominate everything in your path?"

The words stung more than Abaddon cared to admit. Clenching his fists, he suppressed the growing doubts in his mind. With a sigh, he turned toward the beast, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, since when did myths care so much about my well-being? You're not wrong, though. I imagine your insights come from the countless memories of those you've devoured. I bet none of them were pleasant. Typical humans, right?"

"You are one, too," the beast interjected sharply.

"The path to strength is vast in the world of Rankers—relics, artifacts, potions, magical tomes, and more. But all of it means nothing unless you choose your path. You speak of shedding weakness, yet cling to your humanity. Why not embrace power fully? Why let emotions weigh you down?"

Abaddon met the beast's gaze with steely resolve.

"Because I choose my path. When the time comes to shed my weaknesses, I'll do it on my own terms. But for now, I can't lose myself. My goals, my values—those are mine to uphold, not the cravings of some power-hungry side of me."

The Swamp Shadow-King sighed in disappointment.

"And yet, that still makes you a slave to your emotions. You claim to have rid yourself of them, but you haven't."

Abaddon tilted his head curiously.

"Oh? And what have you learned from devouring so many humans?"

"That those who sever their ties to humanity aren't just freed—they are elevated. Only in the absence of attachment does true power reside. You speak of ambition, yet cling to what makes you... you."

For a moment, Abaddon faltered, an image of Eleanor, Orlan, Jane, and Fatty flashing through his mind. He brushed it aside quickly.

"My humanity isn't a curse"

He said firmly.

"Letting go of it would mean giving up on myself. My humanity is what I need to reach my goal. I will save her."

"Save her? What is 'saving' but an illusion—a desperate grasp for control? The weak cannot be saved. They are tools, nothing more. You squander your efforts, resisting the inevitable. Tell me, what becomes of you when you give everything for a single soul? And what of that soul, when it too is swallowed by the relentless tide of this merciless world?"

For a moment, silence enveloped the surroundings, broken only by the distant, haunting cries of tormented souls. The stillness stretched until finally, it shattered.

"Your insight is indeed impressive, Beast Emperor," Abaddon replied, his voice steady, unyielding. "But before me, your words are nothing but... madness. And I won't let myself be consumed by it."

"Madness? No"

The Swamp Shadow-King rumbled, its voice tinged with disdain.

"This is clarity. What you dismiss as madness is the truth, stripped of all pretense. The world is indifferent to your pain, your struggle. It devours the weak and mocks the strong. To endure, you must embrace the darkness. Abandon the fragile rules of mortals. You seek power, don't you? Then unleash it."

The words struck a chord in Abaddon, unsettling him, yet igniting a spark of realization. As the Shadow-King continued to weave its web of persuasion, the truth crystallized within him.

'Now I see'

Abaddon thought, his mind racing.

'This beast isn't trying to overpower me. It can't take the Primordial Essence—Kaelar himself entrusted the heart to me and me alone. No mere beast could claim it. Its plan is cunning. It wants me to unleash the heart's energy in a blind rage, knowing the siphoning effect of this domain would drain me dry, leaving the energy vulnerable to absorption. Clever. A true king, indeed. But it underestimated me. I listened to my instincts—one wrong step, and I'd have fallen into its trap. Still, this conversation has been enlightening. The knowledge it's stolen from those it devoured is now mine to claim. Better to gain than to lose.'

Abaddon stood firm, listening as the Swamp Shadow-King pontificated like an elder lecturing a child, its attempts to manipulate him both subtle and condescending.

"You stand at a crossroads"

The beast intoned, its voice laden with gravity.

"Power lies ahead, but it demands more than you can fathom. To rise, you must discard every vestige of weakness. To live... you must become the monster you fear."

A low chuckle escaped Abaddon, veins bulging as irritation simmered beneath his calm exterior.

'Does this beast truly think it can lecture me for five minutes straight just to push me into madness? Hypocrisy at its finest. But no one would believe me if I said I was scolded by a beast trying to make me destroy myself.' His gaze darkened. 'Still, I've learned what I needed. This overwise king has served its purpose. Now, it's time to put it down.'

The Swamp Shadow-King continued its tirade, oblivious to the storm building within Abaddon. Slowly, Abaddon turned inward, his focus shifting to the depths of his own being.

Drawing a deep, steady breath, Abaddon's soul plunged into the infinite expanse of his inner world. Before him loomed a swirling black hole, the embodiment of his spiritual essence, encircled by a vast cosmos of thought and power.

'I can't defeat a Ravager-Class III Myth outright'

He admitted to himself.

"It's beyond me. But in our fight, I wasn't just trying to win—I was seeking the origin of its domain. Ancestor once said that Ravager-Class III Myths, at their peak, possess three soul-ores. Yet, this beast used only two. That means the third soul-ore isn't something it can wield."

Reflecting on the battle, he recalled how he had used his Necrotic Sight: Spiritual Eyes to trace the energy flow of the domain. It coursed through a single vein, splitting at the end to connect to the two active soul-ores.

'This was my plan from the start, as a Necro-berserker, I wield the abilities of both a Necromancer and a Berserker. Though my mantra energy is insufficient to fully master either class, I've gained insight into some fundamental skills.'

In a domain teeming with the dead and restless souls, he knew he had an advantage.

'This is my playground'

He mused. The beast's overwhelming aura had made locating the heart of the domain—the core engine feeding its soul-ores—difficult. But he had found it, the essence where trapped souls were channeled to fuel the creature. If he could destroy that, the tide would turn.

The answer lay in his third necrotic technique: Gluttony.

Abaddon placed his hand on the swirling black hole within him. A surge of energy erupted, climbing through his body like a wildfire.

'Devoure my vitality and grant me strength I need to finish this battle, if physical clash won't work, I'll just out smart it'

Outside, the Swamp Shadow-King froze, sensing a shift in the domain as energy poured from Abaddon's being.

Abaddon's eyes snapped open, radiating dark, chaotic energy. Though it lacked the overwhelming power he once possessed, it was sufficient to shatter the creature's binding energy.

"Now!" he roared.