LIGHTNOVELONLINE CH25-Sub space.
As the radiant light devouring Irvel village faded, the encompassing darkness of the night seized the sky once more.
What was left of the plaza after the explosion was nothing short of dire. The huts situated near the center of the village were reduced to ashes and ruins, along with a crater several inches deep.
A slight tremor resonated through the rubble as Samael's hands plunged out of the debris.
His grunt reverberated as he cast aside the earth, wood, and pillars pinning him down. Slowly, he crawled out of the destruction left behind by the explosion.
He leaned back, a pained groan escaping his lips. The explosion didn't just kill the Necrons; it also swept him off his feet. If it weren't for his armor, he would be ten times more fucked than he already is.
Samael's gaze shifted down. My armor is badly damaged... He thought in dismay.
The steel plating on his torso was left with deep gashes, while parts covering his arms and shins were no less torn.
Shallow wounds were etched on his skin, along with bruises dotting his body. Fortunately, it seems that the damage only got that far.
A resounding sigh escaped his lips. He was tired. But there's no time to rest.
Raising to his feet, he dusted himself as he traversed his way towards the center of the crater.
Will this work? He wonders.
He raised his hand in the air, his palms wide open.
"Devour," he uttered.
The cold night wind billowed wildly, wafting through his disheveled hair and stirring the dust.
Specks of Void matter swirled through the air as they flocked Samael mercilessly, coiling in his arm as they seeped within his skin.
He could feel the dark matter flow through his veins, strengthening his muscles and, at the same time, replenishing the energy he had lost in his previous clash.
As the last specks of the Void matter faded, a blue glow bathed his visage.
Devoured Void Essence of "Necron (102)" +306
Your power grows stronger...
Condition for multiple-tier elevation was met. Proceed to increase the tier?
Yes or no?
A wide grin tucked at the corner of Samael's lips, his eyes glimmering in glee. He thought that he could only absorb the essence of creatures he killed with his own bare hands, but it appears that's not the case.
"Proceed," he said.
Command received. Commencing Tier Upgrade...
Tier advancement successful. Do you wish to see the changes?
"Show me," Samael commanded.
[STATS]
Name: Samael
Title: [Loved by the void]
Species: Void Spawn [+]
Affinity: Void [+]
Rank: Tempered
Condition: Good, wounded
STATS
STR: 24.6
SPD/AGI: 24
CONSTITUTION: 26.6
SPIRIT: 27.7
CHARM: 7
∆SKILLS [+]
Samael's breath hitched, his eyes jolted wide. A wave of strength resonating within him.
I went up by 2 tiers! He thought.
His stats took a massive leap as well. It rose by 12 points!
Samael's laugh left trails of echo in the air. Most of his stats ranged around 12 points, but after this upgrade, they flew to around 24.
He felt as though he coated himself in Void Augmentation twice, and he's still in his base form!
Just how much stronger did he get?
He shook his head, ridding himself of unnecessary thoughts. Now is not the time for celebrations.
Samael's eyes darted back and forth, scanning over the horizon.
It seems that the destruction only decimated the plaza and didn't cause that much damage to what lies beyond. The houses and huts the villagers used seemed safe and stable enough, and the raging flames have now died out.
However, a lone thought still lingers in his mind.
Where did the Necrons come from?
He saw no damage done to the towering walls of Irvel village, nor did he see any signs of forced entry within its gates. So how did the abominations enter? Did the rift open within the village?
Codex, how do I trace a rift? Samael asked.
The Codex went dark for a moment before another panel warped in front of him.
Due to the low level of authority, there is only one way available for you.
Tell me Samael commanded.
By enhancing your senses, you may subtly feel the distortion in space.
...By enhancing my senses? Samael asked.
The method given by the Codex isn't something he can accomplish with haste, even with his gifted senses. He barely sensed the Kunilors that laid an ambush for them, much less a rift in space.
"Unless..." Samael muttered under his breath.
By internally manipulating Void matter to shroud his throat and mouth, he was able to strengthen his voice and even lure the enemies to him. But it also comes with its own risks.
He injured his throat, opting him to cough blood and rendering his voice coarse for a while. Besides, he barely knows anything about the internal manipulation of the Void element.
Fortunately, he has the Codex.
Codex, show me my skills Samael instructed.
[Skills]
✓Overdrive (Innate) [+]
✓Superhuman senses (innate) [+]
✓Encompassing Voice (Etched) [+]
✓Void Augmentation (Etched) [+]
Come to think of it, what does innate or etched mean? Samael asked.
Innate skills are skills you're born with or naturally develop, while etched skills are skills you gain through experience and training.
I see Samael thought.
[Encompassing Voice]
Allows the user to strengthen and enhance their voice, which is capable of inflicting [Lure [+]] on enemies. [Evolvable]
[Void Augmentation]
Allows the user to coat and enhance parts of their body with void matter. This extends to weapons and tools. [Evolvable]
It seems that by internally manipulating Void matter to coat his throat and mouth, he's able to develop a skill. Does that mean he can also use the same method to develop his senses? If so, what parts of his body will he enhance?
His aim is to track and trace the locations of the rift. If he remembers correctly, Ajax said that debuffs cause energy fluctuations; they can trail. Do rifts work the same way?
There's only one way to find out.
Samael closed his eyes tight, his figure still as a calm lake. The wind gently stroked his skin, along with the dust stirring under his soles.
A familiar warmth surged within Samael, swirling inside his mortal vessel and forming a sphere of Void energy.
Clenching his jaw, a grunt escaped Samael's lips as the sphere of Void matter dispersed in multiple directions.
Again, he thought.
He condensed the void matter once more, resonating with the dark matter as he guided it. Carefully, he evenly distributed the energy, attempting to shroud his entire being in its protective embrace.
However, he failed.
The energy dispersed once more, billowing out of his skin in the form of an onyx-dark steam.
Am I doing something wrong? Samael wondered as he guided the energy once more, only to fail before completion.
Is my Void control weak? Then how did I succeed before? He asked himself.
He managed to enhance his voice earlier, but he seems unable to accomplish the same task now. Is he missing something?
Samael's eyes widened.
His void control is indeed as weak as he is now. What he's trying to accomplish is foolish at his current level. He succeeded before because he focused on one thing and one thing alone. His voice.
Shutting his eyes for the last time, Samael conjured another sphere of Void energy, delicately guiding it towards his ears.
He considered enhancing his vision, but straining his eye sight is a high-risk gamble he isn't willing to take.
A lone bead of sweat meandered down his forehead, the warmth of the Void matter flowing in his veins.
Samael's head perked up, a click whispering in his ears.
Wha— Samael's thoughts were cut short, a wince resounding from his lips.
Everything felt heightened. The sound of the wind dancing along the sky, the bellowing dust, and that subtle humming in the air
Wait... humming? Samael's eyes jolted open, his gaze darting back and forth. Yet what greeted him was the same crater and what was left of the explosion.
Am I hallucinating?— Samael's words ended abruptly once more as another wave of humming noise dangled in the air.
Maybe not... He thought.
However, something is bothering him.
The humming noise had no source. It was everywhere.
That can't be right, Samael thought.
If this noise is indeed the energy fluctuations of the Necron rifts, then shouldn't it lead him towards the location of the portal?
"This is Lesson 5: Observe."
Samael could still vividly remember the words said to him by Ajax. To observe, and to observe he shall do.
The Necrons didn't pass through the gates, nor did they tear a hole through the towering walls. That means the rift either formed in the village itself or...
"Underneath it," Samael muttered, his gaze shifting down the brown earth.
It makes sense; the humming noise pestering his ears was basically everywhere. Which only means the rift lies under the ground.
"Void Augmentation," Samael said, a streak of dark matter coiling through his feet as they descended with unparalleled ferocity.
A thundering boom reverberated in the air as Samael's foot drilled a hole through the solid ground, cracks marring its surface as it collapsed to the chasm below.
Samael swiftly dashed back, nimbly avoiding the fall. His gaze fixated at the darkness below where rifts stained crimson sat idle.
The tears weren't large, but they were numerous. Counting everything, they numbered in the dozen.
That's why there were so many of them, Samael thought in exasperation. It turns out they didn't appear above; rather, they crawled up.
Still, wasn't it unusual for a rift to spawn below the ground? His knowledge regarding this topic is too lacking to form a cohesive conclusion.
Codex, do hives spawn below ground? He asked.
A blue screen warped in front of him, bathing his face in its incandescent glow.
Hives don't spawn in a fixed location. However, their origins and the creatures residing within them do affect their coordinates. Necrons are classified as:—
The earth convulsed, sending violent tremors shaking under his soles. Samael lowered his stance, barely avoiding a stumble.
He jerked his head back, spearing a glance south.
What was that? Samael wondered.
With Void matter coating his feet, Samael's figure zoomed forward, fading under the ethereal glow of the moon.
***
An hour ago, back in the southern forest...
Ajax's chest rose and fell akin to a boat stranded in the middle of a storm, his breathing deep and ragged.
The battle has dragged on for a while now; Ajax estimated it's been around six hours since the start of their confrontation.
His ethos is nearing its limit after their collosal clashes. The forest was long gone, mutilated into nothing but dirt and decay.
Normally, he wouldn't have the trouble of fighting for hours on end, but Antrax was an enemy far beyond what he's capable of. It's almost as if the abomination had a limitless supply of Ethos, constantly dishing skills one after the other.
At this point, Ajax's only hope lies in Igram, his shadow spawn.
Igram is a unique shadow spawn. He eats a lot of Ethos, but for a fair payback.
The longer the battle drags on, the stronger Igram gets. Not in the physical sense, but in the battle sense.
Igram has a unique adaptation skill called "shadow dance," which enables him to copy and adapt to the skills of the enemy. However, it does indeed take time, as Igram has to study the shadows of Ajax's adversaries in order to grasp the techniques.
But, once he does, he's able to replicate these techniques and, in turn, also allow Ajax to use them as he is his shadow. It's a somewhat upgraded version of his copy skill.
Ajax tightened his grip, the lone blade nestling in his palm. The battle must end soon, or else hell will break loose.
Streaks of shadow tendrils latched on his blade, swirling within the sharp steel edges of the weapon.
Igram grasped his claymore, hanging it on his shoulders. His gaze locked at Antrax.
The abomination stood up, its face contorted with rage and exasperation. With a snap of his fingers, a mass of flesh gushed out of his body, mending to form another arm.
A grunt escaped Ajax's lips. He has regeneration as well, he thought.
Things weren't looking good for him. But no matter, the battle must go on.
Ajax delved through the shadows along with Igram, the trail of dark smoke surging towards Antrax.
"Puny insects!" Antrax roared in rage, his arms lashing forth.
A burst of murky green matter jetted out of his hands, soaring in the air as they banded to form a collosal palm.
"Shatter!" Antrax bellowed, his hand descending with wrathful fury.
A tendril of shadow zoomed forward, drilling through the dirt.
"Shadow jump," Ajax muttered, his figure swiftly coursing through the other end of the tendril.
A reckoning explosion thundered behind him, followed by a whipping shockwave and splinters of earth.
With a forceful kick to the ground, Ajax darted forward, closing the distance between him and Antrax.
Antrax's maws fell wide open as they glew green in hue.
"Rot miasma," Antrax said, his jaws spewing a wave of green matter.
The green matter devoured all it touched, warping them to nothing but decayed versions of themselves.
Ajax took a sharp stop, his figure nimbly avoiding the rot miasma.
"Shadow sling," Ajax uttered, elongated protrusions latching off his arms. With a flick of his wrist, they burst forward, clutching tight to Antrax.
Ajax dug his foot into the ground, a grunt escaping his lips as he ripped his arm back, dragging Antrax along.
"You—!" Antrax's words were cut short as Ajax snatched his head, smashing it against the ground with a thunderous boom.
Brownish-red blood trickled down Antrax's lips, his face quivering in pain. In retaliation, he pointed his fingers forward.
"Decay bullets—"
A foot connected with Antrax's jaws, sending him flying back.
Imgar ascended from the shadows, his claymore nesting in his shoulders. With a strong thrust, his figure zoomed forward.
Antrax landed in an explosion of dirt and stones, his jaw weaving in unnatural directions.
In the corner of his eyes, a dark figure darted towards him.
Imgar threw a wide slash, his blade drawing an arc in the air. Antrax threw his arms forward, erupting two bone walls in rapid succession.
The earth shook as Imgar's blade hammered the bone walls. Antrax's arms trembled under the recoil.
With haste, Antrax said "Bone jaws,"
Imgar's dark visor shifted down as he hurriedly dashed away.
From the ground, a set of bone jaws erupted, nearly tearing Imgar's leg in the process.
"Sub space: Plague infestation," Antrax uttered.
Ajax's eyes widened, his astral compass screaming of danger. A threat he has never faced before.
Shit! He thought.
"Shadow cocoon!" Ajax countered, his shadows latching unto each other as they formed a dark cocoon.
Ajax withdrew Imgar back to the safety of the miniature dome, his eyes fixed on the abomination.
A surge of green energy lashed in rage, devouring and destroying everything near it. As the earth decayed, so did the last remaining trees.
Ajax grunted as he struggled to keep the barrier up against the harrowing effects of Antrax's subspace.
A subspace is a skill a saint gets once they reach enlightenment. It's a zone that harbors the elemental capabilities of your power. If Antrax does indeed possess a subspace, then that means he's a bonafide saint.
Blood meandered down Ajax's visor.
"Shadow bones," Ajax casted, copying the skill Igram stole from Antrax.
Layers of black bones erupted forward, blocking the stream of energy from consuming them.
However, cracks soon marred its surface as it splintered into pieces.
Damn it! Ajax cursed inwardly.
What can he do? Is there anything he can do? He himself is an enlightened rank individual, but he's been stuck there for years. Suddenly breaking into Saint rank might give him the chance, but a slim one.
But how will he surpass his bottleneck? His ascension trial has yet to come. There have been no signs—
Ajax's visor perked up, and his gaze fixed on Antrax.
How did he not notice?
Antrax.
He was his trial.
"Igram!" Ajax called.
The shadow knight shifted his gaze towards his master.
"Observe, learn, and adapt his subspace," Ajax commanded.
The shadow fell still for a moment before giving a stiff nod in return. It had qualms with its master decision, but he cannot question him. His master's will is also his.
Imgar speared a glance ahead, precisely within Antrax's shadows.
And so his adaptation began.
However, Ajax must persist until the end. Until Imgar has learned. He must stand steadfast against the pain and destruction. Or all will fail.
Ajax cast bone walls in rapid succession, his ethos depleting at a rapid pace as he sustained his shadow cocoon tirelessly.
Time ticked down; every second and every minute felt like an eternity. An endless river of torment.
But Ajax persisted. He stood against Antrax, a saint—an abomination way beyond his league. And he shall not fail now.
"87%," Ajax muttered under his breath, his voice coarse and subtle. He was nearing his limit.
Ajax's knees buckled, plummeting down the ground with a loud thud. Yet his arms remained in position.
"91%," he said, his vision dimming.
He's close—too close to losing consciousness now. Not yet, no.
Ajax's body shook, blood trailing down his armor.
"96%..."
Ajax's left arm fell limp, devoid of strength. His breathing shallow.
Will he meet his demise this way?
Is this the end of the line for him?
Looking back, he's lived a pretty shitty life.
His family loved him, took great care of him, and cherished him. Yet he couldn't do anything for them, as they were torn to pieces by abominations.
He can still vividly remember the malevolent glow of the rift that stole his future. The scent of iron lingering in the air, and the sound of screams leaving trails of hushed echoes.
At the early age of 9, he became an orphan in a slum. He had to fight teeth and bones just to survive another day. He had to scavenge what little scrap was left.
He had a friend, a person he could call family.
But she died as well.
In the hands of yet another abomination.
He had to watch as they tore her limb from limb. Her cries haunt him. Worse, his weakness back then angers him.
He wonders. Does weakness deprive you of the choice of how you wish to die?
But that young boy didn't give up so easily. Perhaps it was their deaths that served as his fuel.
At the age of 19, Ajax joined the Watchers, where he faced countless harrowing trials just to survive. He had to watch his comrades come and go, and he will tell himself it's part of his job.
Eventually, as the deaths piled up, his heart numbed. To save himself from the pain, he chose to forget.
Was he so weak that he chose to escape from the very thing pushing him forward?
He sees himself in Samael. A boy who has gone through many things But despite the stark difference between them, Samael chose to strive forward instead of buckling under pressure.
Will he run away again?
"99%..."
No, no more. This world can burn with him.
"100%..."
Antrax's chuckles filled the air, a wide grin tugging at the corner of his lips. A pulse swept over the surroundings.
Antrax's smile faded, his eyes quivering in confusion, realization, and disbelief.
Another pulse of energy soared forward, stirring the dust in its wake.
"This... This can't be..." Antrax muttered in disbelief.
The pulses came one after the other, each time more prevalent than before.
"He's ascending..." Antrax said.
"NO—" Antrax's screams fell deaf, overshadowed by Ajax's voice.
"Subspace: Shadow Nexus,"
Then
Shadows devoured everything.