Optimistic Game Chapter 76

Before you read this chapter, I want to make two things clear.

One: I've added a whole scene to chapter 73 from Silva's perspective. I did this because I didn't want the character to feel like nothing but a plot device. Still, I think he needs a little more characterization, so I'm definitely going to write one more scene from his PoV at a later date. Perhaps I can squeeze it in chapter 74.

Why write those scenes now and not back then? To be honest, at the time, I felt like the plot was moving too slowly, and I felt like adding a whole scene for a very minor character would damage the pacing. Writing this chapter made me know better.

I think a slow paced story is much better than a rushed one.

Two: I've nerfed the Necrosidereus a little bit by giving it a glaring weakness in the form of a core. That way, the battle wouldn't feel futile, as if the main characters were banging their heads against a brick wall.

And that's pretty much it. Enjoy the chapter.

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Edited by: Marethyu, Priapus

— Eero —

As someone who had lived for more than two hundred years, the former Emperor had seen many things in life. After all, as the crown prince of the royal family, he had been obligated to go on a long journey after his thirtieth birthday. To bring with him glory in the form of defeating a powerful adversary or conquering a worthy settlement.

From gods of unfathomable might annihilating entire armies in the blink of an eye to ancient evil enacting the worst rituals one might imagine, he’d thought he’d seen it all. But to be here— to be brought back to life, to see his dead son in the living world again…

Eero wasn’t sure what to think about this. It felt unreal. For a while, he thought it was perhaps the work of a god, wanting to torment him for his past sins. But no, this was real. He was alive again. His son was right here, right in front of his very eyes.

Even if Alaric himself was sure that he wasn’t Eero’s son, speaking this absurdity of reincarnation, the former emperor knew better. While most definitely feeling different, that was his essence. There was no mistaking it. He’d recognize his son no matter what.

He did recognize him when they first traded blows, even before he was unmasked. At the time, he had simply ignored it, thinking he had finally gone insane. Only when he saw the Leviathan’s unmistakable trait— his white hair and blue eyes— did Eero realize what he was seeing was real.

But despite having many, many questions, Eero knew that this wasn’t the time. He had been resurrected for a reason, and that was to aid his son in fulfilling a promise. Of course, he had half of a mind scolding him for that idiotic stunt he had just pulled. To start a resurrection ritual? Was he out of his mind? Death would’ve been the least of his worries had he failed.

Even if he was successful, his actions had made him an enemy of the gods. There wouldn’t be a day going by without them sending their champions to slaughter him.

…But if Alaric was this desperate to save a single life, then he must’ve been raised by decent people—perhaps not the most responsible, but at least moral. Knowing Alaric was still somehow alive was one thing, but to be assured that he was nothing like the rest of their kind was… relieving.

Though young as he was, he clearly still had his problems. As Eero could sense his son’s bloodlust— the immense rage and thirst to destroy that was deeply rooted in his psyche. The Leviathan’s curse. 

And yet, it was strangely controlled. No, not controlled. Rather, it’s pushed to the very back of his mind, almost ‘imprisoned’ for lack of a better word.

“We have about everything we need to put it down—” His son said as he, Eero, and the Necromancer discussed their plan of attack. “But the biggest problem right now is not getting infected.”

Eero kept his eyes on the boy, remaining silent.

“That is true. You have your armor, and I am immune, but his highness does not have that luxury.” The Necromancer, known as Sheekh, nodded. “Any ideas?”

The former emperor glanced at Sheekh, immensely suspicious of him. His name rang a bell, but Eero couldn’t remember where he had heard that name from. Above that, something about him felt wrong. More than the fact that he was a necromancer.

Besides, necromancers of this power could be counted with one hand, and yet he still couldn’t put his finger on it.

“You can’t make a barrier around him or something like that?” Alaric asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

The young leviathan clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“That won’t be a concern,” Eero said.

Alaric blinked.

“You’re immune too?”

“No.” He denied. “But I’ve endured a powerful disease-like curse for fifty years. The Necrosidereus is nothing in comparison. I will not succumb to it.”

His son and the necromancer blinked and exchanged a look of surprise before deciding to trust his words as they should. The curse that wiped out his empire was everything but normal. It was something beyond what even the gods could break.

“Well, alright. If you say so.” Alaric nodded. “But our second problem is stopping it from doing what it did last time.”

“Yes, forcefully evolving its vessel using the energy it devoured,” Sheekh responded grimly, a hand over his chin. “It’ll certainly do it again if it’s threatened.”

“And it might eventually reach a point where we don’t stand a chance.” His son added. “Then again, there’s nothing we can do about that. Our best bet is not to give it a chance to evolve. We need to tear the dragon to shreds and destroy the core in quick succession.”

Alaric then paused, putting a hand on his chin as he thought deeply to himself.

“Indeed. However, keep in mind that the core will try to escape once its dragon vessel is destroyed.” The necromancer pointed out. “And once it does, finding it will be nigh-impossible.”

“Is it possible to destroy the core without having to eliminate its vessel?” Eero asked.

“It is.” Sheekh nodded. “Naturally, protecting the core will be its top priority, especially since Reid already left significant damage on it.”

“Then targeting the vessel is pointless.” The former emperor said. “We are pressed for time. It is better to give the Necrosidereus a false sense of security in that dragon vessel. Destroying said vessel will cause it to direct all its effort into avoiding us entirely.”

“Hmm, that is true. With the dragon's corpse under its control now evolved, it should be bold enough to go on the attack.” The elf agreed. “In fact, it’s currently tearing through the region looking for us.”

Of that, Eero, too, was certain. He could hear the beast’s enraged roars over to the other side of the region.

“Then it is decided,” Eero said. “We strike it quick and true, not giving it a chance to retaliate or retreat.”

“So all this ‘strategizing’ amounts to hitting it harder, I see?” Sheekh muttered in amusement. “What do you think, Reid?”

As they glanced at Alaric, they saw him looking at his slime-like golem with a frown. He seemed very deep in thought, in a way that made the former emperor wonder if he’d found another plan of attack. Though, what could the slime do besides turn into armor and create weapons?

“Reid?” The necromancer called for the boy again.

“…Leviathans are considered magical creatures, aren’t they?” He asked after a moment. “As in, there’s magic flowing in our veins, right? Makes me wonder…”

The two elders waited for him to elaborate, but then Alaric shook his head with a sigh.

“Nah, never mind. It probably wouldn’t work.” He said before showing a confident grin. “Well, we have our plan. Hit it with everything we have until it’s utterly erased into nothing.”

Eero narrowed his eyes in suspicion before nodding.

“That seems to be our best course of action,” Sheekh said. “We only have a few hours before Silva succumbs to the infection. We cannot afford to waste any more time.”

“Then let’s get going,” Alaric responded, cracking his knuckles. “I’m itching for a run back.”

And with that odd expression, a massive white wolf appeared out of thin air, nearly prompting Eero to take out his spear to strike it down before he felt the connection between it and his son. A familiar?

“Take care of the kid, Gwyn,” Alaric said, petting the wolf, who whined in response. “I know it’s not fair, but someone needs to take care of him, alright? You’re the only one I can trust to handle it.”

Another whine, but the wolf obliged regardless, resting beside the elf boy’s bed as his ears drooped low.

“I’ll make it up for you when we return to Remnant.” He promised with a smile; then he looked at the two older men with confidence as his slime-golem shifted around him, turning into its armor form. Impressive… “Let’s go. The sooner we get rid of it, the better.”

They both nodded and as they followed him, Eero looked down at his hand and clenched it into a fist. Despite the curse that had destroyed his empire and plagued him for fifty years disappearing, it seemed that he still hadn’t recovered his full strength—and he probably wouldn’t for a while.

He closed his eyes and focused. His soul felt cracked, so to speak, likely a consequence of that incomplete ritual. Eero knew he would need to meditate extensively to restore his power to its original state. He was fortunate that he was only weakened and not crippled.

Still, this would be good exercise. Despite him not having been dead for that long, only a few months at that, it felt like he hadn’t wielded a weapon in decades. And he had to admit, he did look forward to seeing his son fight again. In their battle, Alaric, although a force to be reckoned with, had very clearly still been green. 

Now, to see how much he had improved over the course of those months…

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– Reid –

As I tread through the infected wasteland of the Necrosidereus, the three of us approach the dragon vessel, each with our own ways of attack. For me, I have my beloved golem armor — which I decided to name ‘Sea Sentry’ to fit with the water theme — now a little more recharged after I gave it a few magic crystals.

Before we went out to hunt the monster, I learned something new about Sentry. While it should’ve been obvious, it can transform into different kinds of armor. When I first came here, it primarily focused on protecting me, thus turning into somewhat bulky armor that covered every crevice, investing most of its power into something that would tank most of the damage.

But now, seeing that it’s not fully recharged, I had it turn into something lighter instead. It still covers everything, but in a way that makes it look like it is about an inch thick. Like it’s an extra layer of clothes rather than actual armor. This way, it can protect me from the infection without suffering too much damage while we’re fighting.

This means that I will have to tank about 90% of the damage. The rest of its MP will be used to create weapons I can use to fight.

Sheekh has his busted necromancy that’s able to rival the infection itself, and as a lich, he’s also made him immune to the disease itself. This means he’s playing support for now, ensuring we stay alive while we wail on it.

And Eero is apparently strong enough to just ignore the infection. It’s definitely affecting him to some degree, but his stats haven’t lowered since we left the lodge. He wasn’t kidding when he said he could handle it.

I find it bizarre, to be honest. Yeah, the Leviathans are durable as fuck, but we’re also made of magic, so the infection is extra dangerous for us. Is he a special case? Perhaps it’s his age since Leviathans grow stronger as they get older. Or maybe it’s as simple as a matter of willpower.

He also has his spear, which apparently had divine properties despite its dormant state and thus can be used without worrying about it being infected. I didn’t know that— I mean, its item description didn’t say anything about that.

However, that does make me wonder why Goldbrand’s fire, an artifact created by a hilariously powerful god, can still be infected. Is it because the gods of that world aren’t the same? I mean, it’s pretty much a demonic weapon as well, and I’m pretty sure that it’s not even at its full power to begin with.

But I digress. We do have a solid chance at defeating the bastard now, especially considering how strong Eero is. He would’ve been even stronger with Aura, but unfortunately, I don’t have any potions to unlock it for him, and I don’t know how to do the little ritual thing to unlock someone’s Aura.

Yeah, Aura won’t help with the infection, but it does increase one’s physical abilities dramatically, even if they’re already superhuman. So, Eero getting Aura would probably make him strong enough to defeat it on his own. Too bad I already used all of my pots.

Though… I may have found a way around the bastard’s magic absorption, but it’s also very stupid and risky. To such a degree that I know if I suggested it, I’d get shut down by both Sheekh and Eero and scolded for even considering it. 

Yes, it’s that dangerous. Trying it might very well just fucking end me in an instant, but god, I really wanna see it in action. It’s like an itch that’s hard to ignore because if it works for even a little, then we might not even need Eero to do anything. Hell, getting it working will also make me feel a lot more confident when it comes to Salem.

It’s indeed that powerful. But because there is a 99.9% chance of failure leading to spontaneous combustion, I should probably keep it as an absolute last resort. Whether it works or not, it would probably hurt a lot. But I’ve been through a lot of painful stuff already, so oh well. I can probably handle the pain if it comes down to it.

“There it is,” I whisper as we spot the giant dragon flying in the air, angrily searching for us near where we did the resurrection ritual. “We’re going to take it out here and now.”

I glance at my two allies.

“Just like we planned,” I mutter. “Eero will be our heavy-hitter and keep it busy while I look for a weakness to exploit. Sheekh, you’ll avoid its line of sight and support us from a distance.”

They nod, taking their positions as we wait for an opportunity to strike. Its gaze wanders in our direction right after we hide behind the dead trees, and the moment it gives us its back, we begin our attack, with Eero taking charge as he leaps at it with his spear.

The thrust strikes true as the spear digs deep into its back, the weight of the attack knocking it out of the skies and forcing it to the ground where it crashes into a couple of trees and boulders. The monster cries out in rage as it tries to get the emperor off it, but Eero picks it up with the spear still in its back and effortlessly throws it, pulling the spear out as it’s sent crashing into the side of a cliff.

As if that’s not impressive enough, as the beast picks itself up and rushes toward the emperor, all he does is plant his feet firmly into the ground and meet its charge head-on, thrusting his spear forward and landing the hit before slashing through its jaw like it’s made of butter. The sight leaves me in awe because I know firsthand how tough its scales are. Jesus, I had it easy when I fought him, huh?

However, the monster doesn’t let this deter it, as, despite its lower jaw being on the ground, it responds by breathing its infected flames at Eero. But I’m not worried. I know that this is my cue to move.

So I rush forward and get in front of the Emperor of Posiedra, letting Sentry create a shield that I use to block most of the fire. The flames graze my neck, and the heat is unbearable. But then Eero throws his spear over my shoulder, striking the dragon in the eye and causing it to step back.

With it staggering, I leap at it and stab its chest with my sword, hoping I got its core as my Armament Haki tears its insides apart. But things aren’t that easy as it just roars in rage, exploding in energy and forcing us to back off.

But not before I snatch the spear stuck in its eye, giving it back to Eero. The beast then tries to respond with its own assault, but it is hit in the face by several necromantic blasts, and a giant skeletal hand protrudes from the ground, holding it in place.

Seeing this, I throw the shield at Eero.

“I’m gonna assume you know how to use a shield,” I say. Personally, I have no experience. “You need it more than me.”

Eero nods as he twirls the spear before rushing back in as the monster breaks free. This time, the Necrosidereus is on guard, capable of meeting the emperor’s attacks with its own. As strong as he is, its stats are still notably higher, and the element of surprise has already worn off.

The struggle is apparent. The momentum we gained from our ambush is lost as Eero falls back defensively, dodging or deflecting most attacks with his shield. Each claw swing from the Necrosidereus rends the ground and nearby surroundings, generating shockwaves that resonate throughout the area.

Even though I’m not the subject of its onslaught, I feel my bones vibrating at what I witness before me. I don’t know if it’s out of a fucked up sense of excitement, immense worry, or awe at how well the Emperor of Posiedra takes it despite the strength difference. Regardless, I shake myself out of it and take to the sky, ‘sheathing’ my sword and looking for my moment to attack.

But that’s not easy. Rather, Eero isn’t having an easy time as he struggles to keep up. Had he been fighting the dragon before it evolved, then he might’ve had the upper hand. But with its stats this high, even he is struggling.

Not to mention, the longer this goes on, the weaker Eero will become because of the infection. I have no doubt that his endurance can last him days, but every time he gets hit, his time is cut shorter. While he’s yet to show signs of slowing down, he’s most definitely hurting. Small patches of purple show on his legs, chest, and face, growing every so slowly the longer he fights.

But even then, I still feel confident. We can win this. I can save Silva’s life and prevent this infection from taking any more lives.

Using his spear and shield, Eero battles the beast, taking away its attention and distracting it from me and Sheekh. No scratch or burn gets him reacting more than a wince, showing me the endurance of our kind. While I’m very aware of how durable I am as a Leviathan, seeing someone else doing this makes me realize just how fucking strong we are. Is this what I look like to the others when I fight?

The Necrosidereus roars after Eero blocks one of its attacks, swinging its fist and landing a hit that sends the emperor flying. It follows in hot pursuit, wanting to end him quickly, seeing that he’s in a vulnerable state without a lot of means of defending himself.

So it swings its claw again, releasing an energy projectile that digs through the emperor’s shoulder, drawing a lot of blood. This attack sends Eero slamming into the ground, but he reacts quickly to avoid an incoming fireball from the dragon, rolling to the side and using the shield to protect himself from the blast.

The reanimated dragon then follows up by body-slamming into Eero in an attempt to squash him, creating a massive crater where it lands. The emperor’s eyes widen as he gasps in pain, blood spurting out of his mouth. He drops the spear, using the shield in a way to defend from the brutal onslaught of the Necrosidereus’ attacks. 

Despite the shield miraculously surviving all these heavy hits, some of them hit Eero directly, wearing him down more and more. All the while, I keep watch, wondering if I should attack now or wait for a better opportunity. If I do attack, it’ll probably see me coming, but it’ll give Eero enough time to get away and catch his breath for a moment. Otherwise, it might knock him out or, worse, kill him.

I clench my teeth and make my decision, but before I can charge, Eero catches one of its attacks with his fist alone, His magical aura suddenly exploding and releasing a pressure so powerful I almost mistake it for Conqueror’s Haki.

I pause, quickly recognizing what this is, as I notice Eero’s pupils turning into reptile-like slits. In an instant, as he taps into one of the Leviathans’ powers, his physical stats increasing to a point where they rival the evolved vessel, even somewhat surpassing it as he avoids another attack, punching it in the head and sending it tumbling backward.

As Eero picks his spear back up, I sigh in relief. Right, I forgot about that. He even has that Halfborn transformation up his sleeve in case things go south.

The Necrosidereus recovers fairly quickly, charging at Eero again with newfound anger. However, this time, the battle is much more equal. The emperor finds it much easier to defend and avoid, comfortably meeting its attacks with his.

Thinking I’d find an opportunity soon, I position myself better, focusing my gaze as I take a deep breath.

Eventually, Eero parries one of its swings, leaving it wide open for his counterattack, which he starts by slashing its energy-like leg and forcing it to its knees. In quick succession, he stabs it several times in the chest, stomach, and head before twirling around and swinging at its neck.

But as the beast doesn’t feel pain, this barely slows it down, if at all. The Necrosidereus ignores all of Eero’s hits as it tries to slam him into the ground with its fist, his spear stuck in the deep wound he made in its neck. He lets go of the weapon and manages to avoid the attack, but this leaves him open as it grabs him with its other hand, tightening its grip and building up a breath attack.

Despite this, I wait, eyes narrowing in focus. Right before it spews its flames, just as it opens its mouth, a necrotic blast hits it right in the throat, interrupting its attack and causing a reaction that blows up its throat and chest cavity. 

And right there, protected by the several unnatural and grotesque layers of the dragon’s ribs, the glowing core of this infection is displayed. This is my moment to strike— One good hit is all I need to end this nightmare once and for all.

So I charge with everything I have, soaring downward with a warcry as I swing my sword at the core.

My strike lands true— using one of my perks to slice dozens of times in less than a second. The ribs tear apart like they’re made of paper, exposing the core. The beast quickly lets go of Eero as it turns to me, its new target of hate.

But at that moment, I’m faster.

Amid it regenerating a new protective layer, I use all my strength in one more swing, cracking through the growing ribs and landing the hit. The beast roars in agony as my Armament rips the core apart before I’m swatted away, careening over the ashy ground of the region.

I gasp, now realizing just how much damage my armor was blocking before as my HP is down by 25%. In a single attack, a quarter of my health is gone. Still, I can’t help the smile stretching across my face.

I got it. 

I fucking got it.

As I flip and land on my feet, expecting to see this bastard crumbling to dust, my eyes widen in shock and horror as it regrows its ribs, skin, and flesh.

The Necrosidereus throws Eero away as far as it can, sending him further than I can see as it turns toward me with a glare full of hatred. The core is heavily damaged, that much I can tell, but it’s still standing even though that should’ve taken it out. It refuses to die.

The core within its chest glows brighter and brighter, and right before my very eyes, it starts to absorb the energy of everything nearby—once again, it’s trying to evolve. This prompts me to charge forward in an attempt to interrupt it.

I stab my blade deep into its chest, where its core is located, but it doesn’t even bother to stop me. Even as Haki tears apart its insides, the core avoids the attack entirely, and I watch in horror as it completes the process; its stats skyrocket so much that when I bring up its sheet, I only see question marks. 

The bastard grows in size, forming a second pair of wings, and several more limbs of pure energy grow from its sides as thick, stone-like armor covers its entire body. As it tries to land a killing blow on me, I thankfully react, letting go of the sword and miraculously avoiding its attack as I back off.

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it, we were so fucking close! How did it even survive my initial attack?! That should’ve put it down for good— I fucking calculated the damage!

I grit my teeth in annoyance and tension as it slowly approaches me. Several necrotic blasts hit it in the face, but then it swipes its arm in Sheekh’s direction, followed by dozens of explosive spells rending the region and creating a wall of dust and smoke.

Thankfully, I can still sense Sheekh’s presence, so I’m not concerned about that. What I am concerned about is the monster directing all its hate toward me. Because as much as I hate to admit it, without any potion buffs or the armor at its full power, I don’t stand a chance. I’d die in two more hits at best.

My fists clench tightly as I subtly look to see if Eero is back on the battlefield, but then, I’m stopped in my tracks as the reanimated dragon points at me. For the first time since I’ve come here, the beast’s eyes shine with intelligence as it speaks in a raspy, guttural voice.

“YOU WILL DIE FIRST.”

For a moment, I’m not sure what to say or do. I never expected it to say anything. Shouldn’t it be completely insane or something? What, did I piss it off so much that it regained its sanity? I mean, I’m the one who keeps damaging its core.

Nonetheless, the shock quickly turns into confidence. What should’ve made me intimidated causes me to smirk instead. Despite my full awareness that I’d probably die if we fought, I show that I’m not afraid of it.

Because I think it’s about time I took that risk. If I die, then it doesn’t matter. I would’ve died by its hand anyway. But I’m confident. This will work.

It has to.

As the Necrosidereus charges at me, I give the order to Sea Sentry, and it obeys without hesitation. A spike protrudes inwardly from the thin protective layer of the golem, stabbing me in the chest and injecting me with its power.

My eyes widen as I feel the unfamiliar divine energy coursing through my veins—an incredible strength mixed with intense agony, causing me to drop to my knees and release a loud, anguished scream. 

I’m forced to drop the sword as my muscles begin swelling and tearing, and blood seeps from every orifice on my head. I fade in and out of consciousness; the pain nearly becomes too much to bear. For a moment, I wonder if my gamble failed. If that stupid trait was to blame for taking a huge risk like this, knowing the low odds of success.

I try my hardest to remain standing on my two feet, staring at my bloody hands, my vision blurry and darkening. Every cell in my body cries out, blood vessels rupturing one by one as my HP decreases rapidly. And then, when I look up to the beast, who has halted its approach, I realized that it paid off.

It’s scared. It’s looking at me in fear.

Despite the excruciating agony, I feel myself grinning, flexing my newfound might. Silver and blue aura overflows and takes over the entire region as I, for the very first time, feel what it’s like to be a god. My soul shines with endless power and strength as a mere step cracks the earth beneath me.

But I know I can’t keep this up for long. As amazing as this power is, I can’t use it for long. My body is breaking down—it can’t handle the immense foreign energy seeping into my being. I have to be quick about this.

“Try me, motherfucker.” I growl out a response, ignoring the taste of my own blood.

I’m ending this right here and right now.

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– Silva –

As he struggled to breathe due to the necrotic disease wreaking havoc on his small body, he slowly opened his eyes, finding it difficult to remain conscious. He shivered and coughed, eyes watering in a mixture of fear and agony as he saw his purple skin reaching up to his neck, its texture closely resembling stone.

He experienced profound fear. He was overwhelmed by an intense sense of terror. Was he going to die? Was he going to succumb to the infection like the rest of his village? Was he genuinely being punished by Mother Nature for his own weakness? The pain was excruciating.

Silva choked, uncontrollably trembling as he prayed to be saved. He felt terrified and so alone. Why did it have to end like this? If Naturea was the one punishing him, then why involve the rest of his people? What had they done to deserve this? He didn’t want to die. Not when his father’s final words had been telling him to survive.

Silva’s eyes widened as he suddenly heard a deep whine, prompting him to look at the massive wolf sitting beside him, barely fitting in the room at all. With no strength to do anything, he simply stared at the canine. Surprisingly, as cowardly as he was, he didn’t feel fearful of the Great Wolf.

Instead, he recognized it. This was Warrior Reid’s familiar, wasn’t it? The one that helped him throughout his exciting adventures. Was it here to protect him? Keep him company to alleviate some of the pain? Silva wasn’t sure, but the sight certainly made him feel a little better as he was reminded of something.

Indeed. Reid was out there fighting for him. A true hero doing his best and putting his own life on the line to save Silva. How could he— How dare he lose hope? Helpless as he might be, Silva had to be strong this time. He had to endure this pain and wait for his hero to return.

Silva was a weak, talentless coward. The least deserving to be Naturea’s champion. But he had to keep fighting this disease. This… this was a test from Mother Nature. It was his chance to prove that he was worthy of her blessing.

And even if he wasn’t, he didn’t want to disappoint yet another person. A hero Silva had quickly grown to look up to just by hearing his fantastic tales. If Warrior Reid was doing so much to protect him, then he must do his part and keep fighting.

With newfound willpower, Silva wiped his tears and, with a lot of struggle, sat up on the bed, clenching his teeth in agony as moving just a little felt like it was tearing his flesh apart. He wasn’t going to let this be the end. For once, he had to be better.

Sensing his fighting spirit, the Great Wolf started to pant and wag his tail excitedly, prompting Silva to smile. That’s right. He had never been brave or strong, but hearing Reid’s stories inspired him. It made Silva want to be like him. So he had to try. He couldn’t let this disease defeat him.

As minutes went by, with Silva doing his best to remain strong, the wolf suddenly stood upright and began growling as much of the energy of the infection gathered in one place— frightening power increasing even more to the point where Silva had more trouble breathing. What was happening? That beast felt even more powerful than it is—

Before he could finish his thought, a strange blue glow from the window overtook the infection's purple hue, followed by an explosive power piercing the atmosphere.

Sensing it, Silva’s eyes widened. It was divine energy, unlike anything he’d felt before— an overwhelming force that nearly overloaded his senses. He didn’t know what it was, but this… didn’t feel good at all.

It was too erratic. Too chaotic to be anything good. What was that? Where did it come from? Had a god entered the field? But gods couldn’t interfere with the mortal realm like this unless it was through specific tethers.

But if this wasn’t the work of a god, then what could it be? Whatever it was, it worried him.

Silva coughed heavily, blood splattering on the blanket covering him. His limbs felt limp, and his sight began to darken. More and more of his body turned into that same rough purple color shared by the rest of the infected region. He was on the verge of fainting, but he didn’t let that happen. He couldn’t. If he were to fall unconscious again, then he might never wake up.

However, the pain caused by the disease felt more… subdued now. Despite his body being mostly infected, it wasn’t that bad anymore. He looked down at his hand. Though, he still felt limp. Why was this? What was this odd feeling? He couldn’t see properly, as if something was blocking his view.

The wolf started to whine, coming closer to Silva to see if he was okay. The elf child wanted to tell it that he was, but suddenly, on the nightstand next to his bed, the Pure Heart began to shimmer and glow. Seeing this, Silva was shocked. 

What was it reacting to? Was it calling to him? But it rejected him just now, didn’t it?

Silva made his best effort to lift his arm, leaned closer, and put his hand on the amulet. As it burned his hand, he fell over the bed and onto the floor, still holding the artifact. He could see it actively rejecting him, yet it was speaking to him at the same time. 

The wolf barked in surprise, trying to put him back on the bed, but Silva unconsciously responded by swinging his arm at Gwyn, striking with incredible strength and sending him crashing through the wooden wall of the lodge.

DESTROY IT. Something told him as he held the artifact in his hand. DESTROY IT.

Silva clenched his fists around the Pure Heart, not even feeling the burning sensation of the divine artifact rejecting his touch. Yes. He had to destroy it. That was his purpose. To extend his life for as long as he could. This was a threat to him.

Silva didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to return to that empty existence again.

Silva wanted to be a hero like Reid.

As that thought crossed his mind, Silva stopped. He relaxed his grip and gently held the Pure Heart as it slowly but surely burned his hands. Yes. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to help people.

DESTROY IT.

Silva stood up. And he knew it deep in his bones.

His hero needed his help.

DESTROY IT.

Silva exited the room and made it out of the lodge, walking toward where he could sense Reid’s presence.

This was his chance to prove himself.

DESTROY IT.

Silva had always been talentless, cowardly, and weak.

But for the first time, he did not feel that way. He felt nothing. No fear. No hesitation. Nothing at all.

Nothing but the overwhelming urge to save someone’s life.

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– Sheekh –

The battle escalating to this degree was to be expected. The Necrosidereus was not mindless— it never had been. It might’ve acted as such most of the time, but that was its vessel giving that idea. The mastermind wasn’t the reanimated dragon. It was the core—the remaining essence of the Siderius deep within it.

Corrupted did not mean it was driven to insanity, at least not to a degree where it couldn’t think. After all, what it desired was to avoid that state of unthinking—that ceaseless, meaningless existence. If tapping into necromancy would’ve forced it into that state, then why would it do so to begin with?

Evolving its dragon vessel a second and likely the final time was something Sheekh very much anticipated. Although he very much doubted it could do so a third time, as there wasn’t much of the infection left in the region for it to absorb, this was already bad enough. Even Reid’s father could not fight it like he had before.

What Sheekh had not expected, however, was Reid doing something utterly ridiculous that might just turn the tides in their favor. He didn’t know how or where, but the boy had done something that gave him access to divine strength.

The necromancer watched as Astera and the Necrosidereus fought in the blue-painted sky, the former utterly dominating the reanimated dragon. The Leviathan, with his newfound but likely temporary divine power, brutally tore the vessel apart with his bare hands.

Each hit would cause the skies to flash blue and silver, forming intense whirlwinds that froze everything they touched. While the Necrosidereus was by no means helpless, it certainly struggled to keep up. Its offensive capabilities didn’t compare to Reid’s, but defensively, it’s doing relatively well for itself.

It was protecting its core with everything it had, regenerating the damage and creating dozens and dozens of protective layers over it; as each hit Reid would land, half of what it created would be destroyed. It quickly realized that it didn’t stand a chance as it was right now.

Indeed. The Necrosidereus could not do anything to respond to Reid’s onslaught, and Reid wasn’t wasting time relishing that sense of godly strength either. He was doing his hardest to destroy the infection’s core, cornering its vessel and quite literally wiping the floor with it.

However, something that Sheekh found very peculiar was how each hit from Reid would freeze the beast, how ice shards of divine strength would dig into the beast’s body and pull it apart from the inside in an attempt to expose the core. As far as he was aware, the boy did not have any ice magic. Was he blessed by the goddess of ice? Since when?

Sheekh put a hand over his chin, frowning in thought. This felt strange. Something was very off about this.

“What has happened?”

The necromancer paused, glancing at Eero, who had finally made it back to the battlefield.

“I do not know. Your son did something that granted him divine strength.” Sheekh responded. “Though, I’m not sure what…”

Sheekh paused, slowly connecting the dots, then his eyes widened in horror.

“That fool!” He hissed. “Is he out of his mind?!”

“What is it?” Eero narrowed his eyes. “What did he do?”

“He had forced divine energy into himself by using his armor!” He explained. “This is no blessing— such power would destroy him from the inside!”

When a god bestows a blessing, it manifests as stable and gentle energy, allowing the mortal body to gradually adapt to the new power. This is why even infants can handle divine blessings—they become a part of their very being.

What Reid did was force the power into him. Chaotic, untamable power that did not belong to him. Divine mana in its purest form. What was he thinking?! Was he arrogant enough to think he could control such power?!

Even if it had boosted his strength to a point where he could comfortably beat down the Necrosidereus, that was only thanks to his endurance as a Leviathan. And even then, he could not possibly handle it for too long. He’d melt before he got the chance to land a finishing blow.

What had even possessed him to do such a thing? Even if he were to survive this, this would cripple him for life. Neither his magic nor his body would ever be responsive. A suicide move like this was not the way to go about it.

“Idiot…!” Sheekh cursed under his breath, aiming his staff at Reid, attempting to drain that divine energy out of him using a forbidden spell.

But before he could make that chant, Eero grabbed his staff and forcefully lowered it. Sheekh turned to look at him in frustration, the words dying in his throat as he noticed the recognition and overwhelming fury in the old emperor’s eyes.

“Where do you think you’re aiming that staff, cultist?”

Sheekh froze.

“…I see.” He said after a moment. “So you recognize me, then.”

“Great Wraith of the New World. Cultist of the Deserved.” Eero muttered, his grip over the staff tightening. “Your infamy precedes you, blasted necromancer. I knew something was off about you since I’d seen you. Very few can fool the Void and enact a resurrection ritual without the proper sacrifice.”

“I’ve long since abandoned them,” Sheekh said. “I’ve… realized the error of my ways. I want nothing to do with them, nor do I follow their tenets.”

“A likely story.” Eero scowled. “It’s your damnable cult that laid waste to my empire. My wife died in agony, and my people went mad because of you. That damned witch of yours… she destroyed all that I hold dear.”

Sheekh naturally knew who he was talking about— one of the cult leaders beside him. A witch with curses that even the gods would think twice before hunting down. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Poseidra had fallen? Sheekh’s eyes widened before realization dawned on him. I see. So that’s why…

Why Reid would always try to change the subject whenever the necromancer asked about the Poseidra. Why sadness and guilt would overtake the boy’s features each time he was reminded of his fallen empire.

“I can assure you, I am speaking only the truth,” Sheekh responded. “I know you aren’t willing to listen; however, now is not the time for us to argue, your highness. Your son needs our help.”

Eero paused, his scowl still present as he relaxed his grip on the staff.

“The longer this battle continues, the greater the risk of Reid dying. He cannot handle that power for too long.” He added. “Please. Let me prove my sincerity to you.”

Eero took a moment, staring deep into Sheekh’s eyes as if he were looking for falsehoods. Eventually, he let go of the staff, watching intently as the necromancer pointed it at Reid. The battle between him and the Necrosidereus drew closer to them, and it wasn’t until then that they noticed just how injured the boy was.

With shattered arms and flesh ripping apart, Reid had become utterly feral— pupils reduced to pinpricks and soaked in his own blood; he howled and yelled at the beast, each blow obliterating everything nearby as collateral damage.

But as the beast had forgone ever going on the offensive, it invested most of its energy into protecting itself, turning from a vicious dragon into a cocoon-like state made out of bones and stone, doing everything it could to shield the core.

Nevertheless, Reid forcefully pinned the Necrosidereus to the ground, striking it repeatedly and creating a crater large enough to engulf an entire village. Each impact was accompanied by a formidable roar that expressed rage, pain, and desperation.

And although Sheekh would’ve let him continue to wail on it until he cracked it open, he knew that was never going to happen. Reid had lost the fight the moment he decided to do something this reckless. Perhaps had this been a blessing and not him recklessly using the power of a god without proper precaution, then it would’ve been likely to work.

But with his body so utterly broken, carried by his sheer will alone… There was nothing they could do. He was not accomplishing anything. Only pushing himself closer and closer to death.

Though the spectacle was quite something to behold, Sheekh was struck by a sense of sadness. He felt the young Leviathan's voice tremble with fear and despair, reminding him of why Reid was so desperate to defeat the infection. From the resurrection ritual to using unstable divine energy…

All of this was done to save a single boy.

With a deep breath, Sheekh focused on his necrotic mana, whispering the chants of the spell under his breath. In that instant, Reid stopped, dropping to his knees and coughing up his own blood as all the divine energy inside him was forcefully pulled out.

Reid looked at himself, shocked and in despair, before he let out a tortured scream of pure suffering.

“Alaric!” Eero called out in worry, rushing to his son before glaring at Sheekh. “Necromancer—!”

“Get him out of there!” Sheekh said. “The monster is still alive!”

The emperor paused before nodding quickly, catching his still screaming and panting son before backing off. As expected, just as the Necrosidereus sensed the divine being's absence, it burst the cocoon open, revealing itself to them with a roar.

It glared at them hatefully— specifically, it looked at Reid with unyielding fury and a hint of fear. As for the Leviathan boy, he was gasping and panting, still in utter pain as he tried everything he could to remain conscious.

“We must retreat,” Sheekh told the older Leviathan. “We cannot face it like this.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “Take Alaric and run. I’ll hold it off.”

Sheekh didn’t like doing this— leaving him to his death so soon after resurrecting him, but it was either this or all of them dying.

“Good luck.”

Eero planted his foot into the ground and grew in size, slowly assuming his Halfborn form. But in the middle of that, as Sheekh began to fall back while the Necrosidereus charged at them, something cut through them, leaving every one of them unharmed except for the beast.

In an instant, the lower half of the beast disintegrated into nothingness. As a second blast hit them, it erased its right arm. Next, its head disappeared. Then a chunk of its torso and wings. The scene before them was… well, mesmerizing to say the least.

Eero had stopped his transformation and Reid’s screaming had ceased as they watched on in awe. The beast screamed, whether in agony or fear, none of them knew. And as it stared at something past them, they did the same. As they spotted the culprit, Sheekh’s eyes widened in shock.

It was the elven boy— the divine champion chosen by Naturea. In his hands was the Pure Heart, responding to his commands while simultaneously rejecting him, burning his hands to a crisp.

But what truly, truly shocked the necromancer was the fact that the Silva wasn’t Silva anymore. Indeed. He had become one with the Necrosidereus— He had fully turned into an undead, skin turning into a rough purple color, a stone-like swelling blocking his eyes. And yet, he was defying it.

This was inconceivable. A mere boy like him? With a will to surpass the very stars?

“Silva…?” Reid muttered, looking at the boy.

Silva said nothing as he slowly approached the massive, cowering beast. It tried to back away from him, clearly trying to command him not to attack it, but to no avail. The boy’s willpower was far greater. Greater than a celestial.

After numerous failed attempts, the Necrosidereus only had one more it could do, and suddenly, the dragon vessel collapsed as the core retreated deep inside the earth, abandoning its prime host in an attempt to escape.

All three waited with bated breaths, wondering if the boy had been too late in destroying it. But then, he raised his amulet to the sky. The Pure Heart shimmered with power before a thin pillar of energy pierced the thick clouds and split them apart.

The sky shifted to a soft green, bringing purification to everything beneath it. No, it wasn't merely purification; it was as if new life was infused. The ashen soil transformed into vibrant green grass, and the previously lifeless trees flourished with fresh leaves—everything that had been tainted was now restored to its former state.

The Necrosidereus’ presence had vanished— its core disintegrating into nothingness.

But at that moment, as what kept the boy standing disappeared, he collapsed to the ground.

Once the loud thud reached his ears, Reid sprang into action and ran to the child despite his injuries. He moved his shattered limbs and fell beside Silva’s side, holding him in his arms as he shook him gently.

“Silva? Silva, I’m here, buddy. You’re gonna be alright.” He said. “Everything’s gonna be fine now.”

Silva did not respond.

“Y-you did it, kiddo. You saved us all.” He added with a mirthless chuckle, his tone growing more desperate by the second. “What the heck was that about? You didn’t tell me you had awesome powers like that…”

Once again, the boy did not respond.

“…I-I almost thought we weren’t gonna make it.” He continued, his voice becoming quieter. “What a way to show us up, huh? And here I thought you were just a shy kid…”

Sheekh and Eero approached the two, immediately understanding why the boy wasn’t doing anything or responding to Reid.

“…Don’t do this.” He muttered, choking back a sob. “T-there are a lot of stories I wanted to tell you, y’know? It’s not your time yet. Please, I’m begging you.”

Witnessing this shattered the necromancer’s frigid, lifeless heart. Watching a child perish before his very eyes—a child he had promised to protect… He couldn’t fathom the sorrow Reid was experiencing. 

As Eero visibly looked hesitant to do so, Sheekh beat him to it and put a comforting hand over Reid’s shoulder as he held the boy’s motionless body in his arms.

“…I promised I’d save him.” He said. “I-I said I’d get him out of here. That I’d take him with me to Remnant…”

“I’m sure he truly appreciated the sentiment, Reid,” Sheekh responded with a soft tone. “With what little time you shared together, he looked up to you very much.”

“What did he look up to?” He replied sharply. “A failure of a hero who couldn’t save the life of a single child?”

Sheekh didn’t know what to say to that.

“…Even with everything, I’m still useless.” He added. “All these preparations, the things I’m forced to sacrifice… they meant nothing. I still failed a simple mission. I still failed to uphold a promise.”

“Alaric—”

Reid ignored his father’s call, forcing himself to stand up with the boy in his arms. He walked past them, walking deeper into the newly restored woods.

Sheekh had expected many things from this battle.

To be left with a victory so hollow was not one of them.

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I admit to having struggled a lot with writing this chapter and the ones before it. Seventy percent of the plans I made for this mini-arc weren't even used.

The good news is that I feel like I can write the next chapter without much trouble—hopefully, that feeling lasts.