Chapter 166 The Edge of Madness
Lips twisted, eyes clenched shut, he lowered his head. He had lost this race against time. Worse, he had naively believed that the whispers were the root of corruption. What a mistake.
His heart drumming in his ears, he bit his trembling lips as his foot almost slipped into the abyss.
'I can blame no one but myself. I should have seen it coming, felt the distractions brought by the whispers, and dismissed the fragment the moment I defeated the poltergeists. Idiot! That's what I'm for failing to analyse the dangers. And a double idiot for still veiling my face.'
His knuckles whitened as the truth struck. The moment the chill receded. That's when he should have hurled the fragment back into a dark corner of his mind. But his gnawing fears of ghosts, worry about Karna's unknown fate, and the queen of magic's mysterious yet infuriating menace obscured his judgement.
And now he would fall into abyssal madness and become a malicious beast of destruction, someone revelling in his victims' sorrowful wails as he crushed their hopes and drowned their lives in raging flames. A monster no one could trust, the enemy of his own ideals and the peace he worked so hard to set for his subjects. Finally, someone Luna would hate with every fiber of her being.
A piercing pain stabbed his throbbing heart. The image of her scornful gaze was almost as painful as his unavoidable disappearance.
"A true demon..." His voice, barely a whisper, echoed against the madness below as he shook his head. "No, not just a demon… a devil."
With a sharp, unwilling inhale, his eyes shot open.
Unsettling and terrifying darkness engulfed his vision as his foot dipped down and his balance tilted. But before a sensation of weightlessness claimed him, madness invaded his mind.
Its roar, a deafening echo from a being older than legends and myths, probably not much younger than time itself, rumbled in delight.
Against his will, a smirk unfitting for his ending spread on his lips, yet his knuckles tightened—a vain attempt to resist its spreading influence. But what could resistance do when doom banged on his door with furious abandon?
His nails dug into his palms, and his red eyes flashed with hatred as his mind began plummeting. Yet, a thought, inconspicuous, weak even, fought its way through the mayhem of his collapsing personality. 'Chaos. Use it.'
His eyes stirred, turning from red to a dark darker than the abyss. Chaos surged from his demonic core, swirling and melding with madness in an intricate yet frail balance. One that would last for a fleeting heartbeat but that returned a sliver of sensation to his limbs outside his mindscape.
"Use it!" He strained his throat, his maddened roar cracking through the air and blasting a shock wave that extinguished the torrent of liquid flames reducing the brave draugrs to piles of dust.
His bleeding palm moved next. More than instinct, his actions were driven by something more significant. A conviction? Perhaps. Madness? Certainly.
A defiant smirk crept over his face as his hand rose.
Simultaneously, the whispers tore through his mind, pouring more hatred into him. "You won't!" Continue your saga on empire
However, he brought it down with all his might as blood spurted from his ravaged throat.
"Use it. The madness!"
His abyssal blade, a ruthless dark flash, cleaved through the air as his eyes narrowed in unsettling anticipation.
CRACK
Dark fragments flew first, followed by a sharp pain. His scales shattered upon impact, the blade digging deep into his forearm, yet scrapping and halting against the bones. Blood spewed from the fresh wound. But his fist remained iron-tight on the fragment. Worse, the roar relentlessly buzzed in his ears.
"It's too late, pitiful dog. This second of respite won't save you from crumbling."
Yet, the chaotic pools in his eyes brightened like two torches as he did the unthinkable for a peaceful Earthling, for a gamer who abhorred pain.
With a swift pull, the blade hummed and ground against the bones, slicing through it and the muscles underneath.
"NOOO!" The voice rumbled, an irresistible force, as if divine chains wrapped around it, pulled it back into the fragment still clutched by the flying hand.
Simultaneously, Adam's mind cleared. Free of the dark influence and master of his body and thoughts, he dropped to his knees and clutched his bleeding forearm.
As his muscles, height, and demonic essence returned to normal without the fragment's boost, tears of relief but also pain and regret rolled down his cheeks.
He kept his sanity, but at what cost? A missing hand, a broken mind, and three dozen ash-covered draugrs rising to their feet.
Their glory-hungry eyes locked on his frame, and their axes and swords glistened. Hurried steps and frantic shouts followed.
"For Valhalla!"
He clenched his jaw and swallowed his doubts. Now was not the time for emotions, not when his life hung by a frayed thread ready to snap at any second.
'I'll return to you, Luna.'
Luna's blushing face flashed into his mind, her adorable expression imbuing him with strength. Or was it because his armor's pulsing engravings reacted to his missing hand and the many cuts covering his skin? Probably both, even if the question didn't cross his mind.
Instead, he stumbled to his feet, tightened the belts on his buckle bracers to stop the haemorrhage, and drew his blade before his half-closed eyelids.
"Come..." The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth as his broken voice tried to escape his lips in a bolstering war cry.
But his throat just added to his agony. Therefore, he slammed his lips tight and thundered in his mind.
'Come! I'll send you to the place you longed for. I hope you'll find peace and fulfil your dreams there.'
Meanwhile, the draugrs peered into his determined eyes while the wind whipped against the pelts covering them.
No words were needed. They knew this gaze. They even once had the same: the gaze of a cornered warrior who would fight to the bitter end.
Sweet memories resurfaced as their heads lowered, a silent show of respect before their clash.