LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 17: Immortal devotion
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Chimeran Hammer (Name of Vilgax spaceship orbiting around Earth)
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'The notice was informative… but I need to take into account new information I know nothing about…'
A green, octopus-like visage reflected in Ascalon's gleaming surface. The legendary sword, crafted by Azmuth long before the Omnitrix, captured Vilgax's gaze. He studied the silver weapon with barely contained irritation yet still with fascination.
"Ascalon… fascinating piece of work. Yet its true power eludes my grasp." His voice carried the casual indifference of one discussing the weather as he leveled the blade at his captive.
Vilgax's imposing form dominated the chamber. Standing 2.3 meters tall, his body merged advanced cybernetics with alien biology, new enhancements replacing his old parts. More striking was the otherworldly energy emanating from him — his skin now a sickly translucent green, pulsing with waves of boundless power drawn from Dimension 666, Dagon's domain.
"So, let me reiterate, Sir George. If you wish to keep your head, enlighten me on how to wield this sword properly."
Before him floated Sir George, the venerable founder of the Forever Knights. Though stripped of limbs and dignity, reduced to an old man with white beard and bald head, his eyes burned with centuries of unyielding resolve. His gaze met Vilgax's, carrying an unspoken promise of retribution. The chamber's devices held him suspended in an energy field, yet his silence remained unbroken since capture.
Vilgax's quest for power led him to make a pact with Dagon. He became the eldritch being's herald, though he had no intention of honoring the agreement. The galactic warlord grasped Ascalon, the sword that sealed Dagon's heart. Its raw power coursed through him.
In that moment, Vilgax now understood why Dagon's Esoterica slaves never attempted to remove it. A normal human would have perished instantly from its touch. Yet, despite his strength, Vilgax couldn't master the sword's secrets.
After, he waited inside the temple, certain Sir George would soon arrive to reclaim his rightful weapon. That is, if he was indeed a participant in this cosmic game.
Indeed, he was.
Now after his long creative interrogation, the old man remained silent. Given enough time, he was certain he would get the esteemed knight to talk.
'I acted hastily… With Dagon's heart unsealed, his invasion is imminent… but this is merely a challenge to overcome.' The warlord pondered. 'My Prime version's method is an option, but I can't rely on it. I'll consider it, along with other strategies. Now is the time to step back, observe, and refine my approach. Victory demands nothing less than perfection!'
Suddenly, all his worries vanished as he formulated a plan and several backups. He began to laugh, surprising Psyphon and raising Sir George's eyebrow. In truth, George eyed his beloved sword from the corner of his view.
'That's it, foul creature. Draw my Ascalon ever nearer. My bond with it shall soon be rekindled.' Sir George's countenance remained impassive. 'Your doom approaches, Vilgax!'
George's anger stemmed not only from his current state but also from Vilgax's actions. The knight had planned to remove the sword, but only after leaving seals at Dagon's heart. These would need weekly replenishment — not ideal, but a suitable compromise. Yet the accursed alien Vilgax had unleashed the eldritch Dagon's energy source!
'…But how shall I vanquish the Dagon menace? This creature underestimated me once. It shan't make the same error.'
Sir George's thoughts wandered. 'A grand conflict between Earth and the world of dragons? Maybe…'
He suppressed his anger, maintaining a stoic facade. Having watched all Ben 10 episodes featuring the Forever Knights, he realized a disturbing possibility. The organization he founded centuries ago might have foolishly instigated this war. They had, for some incomprehensible reason, deemed dragons the ultimate evil. Could it be due to the similarity between the words Dagon and Dragon? Surely not. Such a level of idiocy seemed unfathomable.
Regardless, once George regained control of Ascalon, blood would spill to quell his anger. For the first time since his capture, a flicker of rage crossed his stoic features, a change that didn't escape Vilgax's notice.
Vilgax leveled the sword at him again. "You know, you just need to tell me how to control this sword."
Sir George's face twisted with contempt, his chivalrous mask crumbling away. "Do your worst, you pathetic excuse for a conqueror. You're nothing but a cowardly, tentacled freak too scared to face a mere teenager. Is that why you're hiding up here like a sniveling worm? Afraid Ben 10 might hand you your ass in real life? Go on, prove you're more than just an incompetent imbecile masquerading as a mastermind."
Vilgax beard's tentacles writhed with fury. "…Then die by your own sword!"
In less than a second, Ascalon's blade made contact with Sir George's neck, its first touch in hundreds of years. A blinding white light exploded through the room, momentarily obscuring all sight.
As the radiance faded, Vilgax clutched at his throat, feeling a searing pain. The wound, though deep, sealed itself instantly, leaving no trace of blood. He whirled around to face a transformed Sir George — now a young, silver armor-clad warrior with flowing blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard.
"So, you were actually foolish enough to make a pact with Dagon… nevermind." Sir George raised Ascalon, the blade blazing with white energy.
"Stop! We're orbiting Earth! If you damage this spaceship, we'll crash, possibly killing hundreds of thousands! Maybe millions!" Psyphon yelled. Vilgax shot his servant a glare — he spoke without authorization but remained silent, focusing on Sir George.
Sir George stood motionless, centuries of dedication to protecting humanity weighing on his conscience. 'Vilgax can't be eliminated here without risking countless innocent lives…'
Sir George raised Ascalon, its blade glowing with ethereal light. With a swift, precise motion, he sliced through the air itself. The space before him split open, revealing a brilliant white void. Without hesitation, Sir George stepped through this tear in reality, the edges of the portal sealing shut behind him, leaving no trace of his passage.
'I can't wield Ascalon… for now, but I can manipulate Sir George and the other participants.' Vilgax's plan to return the sword now in motion.
Of course, if it didn't work, he wouldn't mind having cut the knight's head off. Sir George's taunt may have actually angered him.
He turned to Psyphon, his voice laden with ominous intent. "Don't be alarmed by what's about to unfold. I'll be… indisposed for a time. In my absence, you must…"
Vilgax rapidly outlined his instructions, leaving Psyphon nodding in bewildered compliance, pondering the cryptic nature of his master's impending indisposition.
The answer manifested with startling swiftness. A blinding portal erupted beneath Vilgax's feet, plunging him into a dizzying free fall over a vast, sun-scorched desert.
High above, Sir George's voice thundered. "DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK I WOULD LET YOU ESCAPE JUDGMENT?!" The knight maintained a stable position in his descent, Ascalon aimed directly at the falling warlord.
'Oblivion's Embrace!'
Ascalon unleashed a blinding beam of pure energy, an unstoppable torrent of cosmic power engulfing Vilgax. The cosmic force ripped through the alien conqueror, tearing him apart atom by atom.
Unimpeded, the devastating beam surged onwards, slamming into the desert floor with apocalyptic might. The impact triggered colossal sandstorms, their fury exploding outward in all directions. As the tempest raged, it sculpted the landscape anew, stripping away layers of sand to expose the bedrock beneath.
When the chaos subsided, a transformed landscape stretched to the horizon, the desert's bare bedrock now exposed under the scorching sun.
Plummeting through the air, Sir George gazed down at the transformed landscape below.
'Vilgax is no more.' It was an irrefutable fact, witnessed by his own eyes. With a gesture, he opened another portal in mid-air and vanished, leaving behind a changed landscape.
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Psyphon breathed with difficulty. The meaning behind Vilgax's cryptic indisposition now crystallized in his mind with chilling clarity.
He turned his gaze to the screen on his gauntlet. With several taps, he accessed a high-definition video feed. The sight that greeted him was one he hadn't seen in two decades — one he'd hoped never to see again. A shiver ran down his spine.
Psyphon left the prison room, his steps echoing through the metallic corridors. As he walked, he passed numerous androids and drones, all programmed to move aside for him and his master. The ship's automated occupants silently cleared a path, allowing him to pass unhindered.
He entered a chamber pulsing with otherworldly energy. Suspended in a massive tank were countless cells. They danced in a macabre ballet of creation. Each one shimmered with an eerie, translucent glow. It was a testament to the unholy pact that bound them to the eldritch entity known as Dagon.
Psyphon's eyes narrowed. Another chill ran down his spine. "So…" He mused, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even death cannot sever the link to that cosmic abomination."
Yet, beneath the dread that threatened to consume him, a spark of hope flickered. Time and again, Vilgax had faced annihilation. Each time, he rose from the ashes, more terrible than before. This time, Psyphon knew, would be no different.
In the oppressive silence of the chamber, Psyphon sank to his knees. His voice, though soft, carried the weight of unshakable devotion. "Great Vilgax…" Tears flowed freely from his eyes. "May your rebirth herald a new era of conquest and terror across the cosmos."
The cells in the tank pulsed in response, their ethereal glow intensifying. Was it a coincidence? Psyphon chose to believe otherwise. In this room… in the universe… his master Vilgax was his only light.
He stood up. "I will follow your instructions… May your greatness watch over me!"