Void Spawn - A litrpg adventure fantasy

The Omen stared at Samael with glee and almost fanatical fervour. He could not stop praising Taranius after witnessing the effects of the weapon called "railgun".

The machine had begun to cool down. However, due to its intense usage of electricity and their lack of it, it will take a few moments to regain vitality.

Samael felt the sear and the pain on his dismembered left arm. It had been reduced to nothing, simply a gaping hole that smoked of burnt meat.

No amount of defence could've prevented it. Perhaps if he had ejected a Void aegis, it would've worked, but he couldn't. Now, Hammel was dead. He should've anticipated this.

Feeling the rage boil beneath his flesh, nerves began to line Samael's neck and jaw as he allowed his anger to fuel him.

Elyria kept screaming at him, warning him of the danger and threat to his life. But at that moment, he could only hear one voice that had been asleep a long time ago.

Kill them all.

Shifting his bloodshot eyes towards the Transcendent Omen, Samael poured his essence towards his arm. Void specks began to flicker out of thin air, swirling and gathering en masse.

Witnessing this, the Omen's gaze narrowed as his eyes bolted open shortly after. "No!"

Samael's arm and ruined torso began to rapidly regenerate as he focused his pool of Void matter around them, fixing what damage the Railgun did as bone began to form first, pushing outwards and reforming at a pace unlike anything.

But Samael was not simply going to sit idly.

Matching the charge of the Omen, he too launched forth, greeting him with his own blade as specks of steel flew in the air once more, the sound of clashing metal reverberating.

Disadvantaged with nothing but a single arm, Samael cast through gritted teeth.

"Hyperdrive!"

The Omen flinched as he was taken aback by the sudden bolt of speed Samael showcased, his blow twice if not thrice heavier than it was moments ago.

Increasing his pace, the Omen began to simultaneously cast Light as the scythe began to emit whips of it, lacerating all it struck.

With his defences weakened, Samael's body was whipped with wounds, some shallow and some deep. This put a smile on the face of the assassin.

Soon, green veins began to trace lines beneath Samael's skin as the poison of the Transcendent began to take effect.

Yet, his smirk was soon burnt to ashes as he watched Samael continue without a hitch, his blows just as heavy and sharp as earlier. "What have you done?!"

Samael did not utter a word, his arm regenerating rapidly still as flesh sprang out like splashing water, grabbing hold of each other to weave muscles and nerves.

Blow after blow they traded as the omen struggled to gain ground. Samael kept dishing out Void cleaves and elemental attacks, forcing the man into a stalemate.

"Hurry!" The Omen roared as the soldiers working on the railgun hurriedly tended to it.

Disengaging, the Transcendent Omen backed away as he once more raised his chained scythe, light energy gathering at its midst.

Witnessing this, Samael braced as he too began to gather Void energy.

Unfortunately, he was outgunned.

As the Omen cast his Subzone, Samael soon realised that the consumption of Essence done by his regeneration slowed his Subzone heavily. Unable to muster it fully, he was only able to create a semi-formed one as the two crashed together again.

Overpowered by the sheer force of a fully formed subzone, Samael felt his feet slide back as stray light projectiles cut through his void skin, leaving deep gashes that splurged blood.

Steadfastly braving the effects of the subzone, Samael clenched his jaw as he forcefully took a step forward, his regeneration ongoing without a hitch as the muscle connected to his bones grew larger by the second.

The Omen's grunts echoed as he watched Samael move closer without fear, forcing him to increase his subzone to his max as he watched the boy slide back.

A smile formed on his lips along with the taste of iron.

The man's brows furrowed as he felt a jolt of pain smash into him as all his nerves were being pulled and ripped out.

Staggering back, the Subzone diminished right away as the Omen clutched his chest, black lines slowly drawing lines over his skin.

"What have you done?!" He roared in a rasp, guttural tone, blood spitting out his lips and onto the inside of his mask.

He could feel the pain rapidly travelling around his body, rupturing organs and muscles without mercy. His strength failing by the second.

A crazed smile made its way to Samael's lips as he showed his bloody teeth, his bloodshot eyes bearing down on the Omen.

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It had taken effect.

Before the Omen's eyes, he watched as Samael's hand weaved itself back whole, patching what little flesh was bare to a new limb.

Samael's chest heaved up and down like a boat stuck in the middle of a storm. He could feel the immense fatigue the intense use of his essence brought.

Burning through his reserves, he pushed onwards, one step at a time, as the omen fell to the ground, his fingers clawing at the cold stone as he tried to crawl away.

"F-Fire! F— krgh!" The Omen vomited blood as it spilt beneath his mask, staining his clothes and the floor, forming a small puddle.

The Omens working the railgun rushed as fast as they could, but before they could even do anything, Samael's chant echoed in the air.

"Radius."

Grabbing one of the Omen, the others watched as his body was sapped of vitality, turning to a lifeless husk that soon turned to dust.

Attempting to regain distance, a singular cleave ripped the two in half like a hot knife through butter. Their corpses slid on the floor, leaving behind a trail of guts and organs.

Ripping the wire fuelling energy to the railgun, Samael made his way towards the fallen transcendent writhing on the floor.

The plague had destroyed his innards in a painful way. But Samael's rage was not satiated yet as he grabbed his head.

"Ingrid."

The Omen looked at Samael with horror as another overwhelming burst of pain smashed into his skull. His scream thundered in the air as he even shattered his own jaw in the process.

Slowly, his head began to balloon along with multiple parts of his body, bloating as with a single pinch...

POP!

Crimson and iron stained everything as Samael stood up, his entire body painted red as he looked at the small concentration of grounded flesh beneath him.

It was done.

Looking over to Arthur, the man shook his head. "He's gone."

Samael made his way towards Hammel's dead body as he put his hand over his eyes, closing them gently. "Rest now knowing your duty is done."

Caephas and the others simply sat there, unsure of what to do next.

Samael gave the men time to mourn. Though short, it was all they could afford.

Mustering his courage, Samael rose up as he looked at the device that did all the chaos.

"Railgun," Samael muttered with spite.

He wanted to destroy it. But he knew how much a technology of this degree could change the tides of the war.

The allies needed to know and create a countermeasure to it. Otherwise, all of their troubles would be for naught.

Grasping the metal of the barrel, a creak rang as Samael left it a dent, his frustration filled to the brim.

Yet he could do nothing to change that which had already happened.

***

The following days after the battle in the throne room, Samael and the remaining squad members of Operation Night Hawk cleared the fortress.

They scoured the remaining rooms, barricaded zones and strongholds, ridding it of omens. They also ensured that the weapons they intended for the Mellaguns to examine were stored properly.

Once all of that had been finished, they hosted a small funeral in honour of Hammel's death and sacrifice. They gave him a proper burial on the hill they used to invade this place.

There were no words uttered, for they knew little of Hammel. But what little they did know they kept as memories to be remembered for as long as they lived.

His bravery will help generations to come.

But they must first ensure that they win this war.

Once the fortress had been safeguarded, they took down the signal jammers and soon received the reply of the Watchers.

It told them of their arrival soon to occur about 2 days from now. They bought reinforcements and Mellaguns as per request.

During those days, Samael and the rest fixed parts of the Fortress to ensure no enemy attacks can retake it. They also buried the dead corpses of the men used as batteries and burnt down the dead at the holding cells beneath the ground.

In doing so, Samael found another room, one hidden farther than the dungeon itself beneath.

The exterior was humble. It was wooden in nature with the overgrowth of plants and algae on the stone walls surrounding it. It had a cobblestone path and the illuminations of the crystals around it.

Samael could sense no presence, but he could feel a tinge of nature in the place along with the scent of earth and wet leaves.

Approaching the singular wooden door, Samael read the sign with the help of Elyria.

"Priest Ventries," Samael muttered under his breath. Yet, he felt no anger or disgust, for this place did not hold the same atmosphere the ministry did. Somehow, Samael knew it was different.

Entering the abode, he was greeted with dust and more greenery. The place was old. As old as this fortress itself. Plants had completely invaded the interior, yet oddly enough, they did not destroy or corrode any of the appliances within.

The place was humble. It possessed a single, old bed, a wooden desk at the centre of the place and a closet of sorts to hold items within.

Approaching the bed, he sat down with a sigh only to notice another carved statue of sorts.

Inching closer, he found a cleaner and more detailed version of the image he saw in the picture book he obtained.

The creature had four hands with greenish skin. She had two heads wearing a beautiful, peaceful smile and two legs draped with a dress. Vines and flowers grew over her body, forming a crown on her forehead.

"Just who are you?" Samael whispered. She was not Taranius. He was certain of it now. Yet, the church had no mention of her existence.

It could have very well been another pagan god. He had read there were plenty of them before the official rise of the ministry itself.

Looking intently at the figure, his lips parted.

"Elyria."

"Do you know her?"

"Please do so."

Elyria fell silent for a while.

Samael's brows furrowed. "As in the Sanctuary?"

"Is that all?"

Samael dismissed Elyria. "I understand."

Looking at the carving on his hand, a thought rose in Samael's mind.

If she was indeed real, and seeing how she was worshipped by the men of old.

"Where are you now?"