The Harvester

Cura crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall of the Terminal Room, with an eye roaming over the sphere of purple flames above him that had just swallowed both the werewolf and Téras.

 

‘What is that, Gul?’ He asked internally and his sentient weapon growled a bit. ‘A Soul Marble? Then, those flames are the manifestation of his raw soul power?’

 

The Gulon grunted positively and then opened its mouth, flicking its tongue somewhere else, and the shark man followed it back to the child-like individual that he had seen being resurrected.

 

“Who are you?” Astraea asked at the same time to that same boy, a serious look on her face. “What are you?” She reiterated with emphasis on the determiner.

 

Hans paused typing on the console and eyed her with a scowl. “Is that important?”

 

“Excuse us for being doubtful,” it was Nyx who interjected this time. “But I also must ask. Your soul was not there. For all intents and purposes, you were dead beyond doubt. You cannot fool the eyes of a Goddess. There exist forbidden spells of resurrection wielded by Primordials, but not only is it nothing short of impossible for one to have been used on you, it rather appeared as if you came back to life on a ‘decree’. One moment, you were dead, and in the next, you were standing.”

 

The azure-haired boy snorted and went back to typing. “Observant. Would you like a medal?”

 

The Night Goddess narrowed her eyes. “From Rakna’s perspective as well, he never mentioned a thing about something of the sort on your status. Yet, he seemed unsurprised by your revival. So, I do not mind trusting you. But—” She was interrupted by eerie laughter. 

 

She blinked in surprise and turned around to see King Gulon laughing out loud. It came out double-toned and like scraping metal; a voice worthy of some unworldly demon.

 

Cura looked over his shoulder lazily and turned to a confused audience. “Gul is laughing at you for your stupidity,” he uttered and Nyx raised an eyebrow. The Gulon then proceeded to stop laughing and settled for a few growls before falling silent. “And he adds; why would you believe anything that silly screen says about a doll?”

 

Hans let out a chuckle at that. “Truly, the King of Gulons is not to be underestimated. How old are you, Your Majesty? The size of your story is illegible.”

 

King Gulon laughed again and Cura blinked in surprise before translating, “Older than the Realms you are bound to, Ô Wailful Nightmare.”

 

The boy stiffened at that title and grunted, “I did not expect your race to be that ancient. You might be older than Yahweh Himself,” he remarked gruffly and girls in the room were busy processing the information.

 

On one side, Astraea nearly blacked out in shock when she heard ‘Wailful Nightmare’ being spoken in this context. On the other hand, Nyx frowned at King Gulon’s ancient knowledge and the short mention of multiple Realms, but she also came to a realization of her own. She didn’t know what ‘Wailful Nightmare’ referred to but it was not her current focus.

 

She looked at Hans and impassively raised her voice. “Your Rewrite,” she stated and he looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “The Gulon mocked the idea of trusting what the System tells us of a ‘doll’. Your current status… your current identity, it’s a rewritten one, isn’t it? Who were you truly in the beginning?”

 

The author unexpectedly cackled at her question. With a sneer, he replied as the soul flames above their heads hissed menacingly, “Have you not heard? It’s simple; I am but a bad dream.”

 

* * *

 

Auburn blood sprayed as Roias was wounded by Sonata, a deep gash opening across his chest. He was shoved back and groaned in pain right as purple flames burst out from the injury. He was then targeted by a claw without a moment of respite and he tried to block it with Pandora’s Curse, but like gleaming obsidian, the attack tore through it and pierced his stomach.

 

Each of Rakna’s limbs was clad by gauntlets and boots of dark crystal embedded into his flesh. His strike carved a linear crater in the flower field and a trail of purple fire blazed through the middle of it, followed by a second one when he chained a kick that Roias failed to parry again.

 

The attack somehow cut right through his arm and he rode the impact away to get away from the trench it created right after. The Téras landed with his remaining hand grasping at the soil.

 

Simultaneously, he grunted as more purple flames flared around his wound. “How devious…” He muttered with a snicker. “Every strike of yours has an impossible sharpness to it, your body got nonsensically heavier and sturdier, those moons have massively increased your output, and you produce these flames at all times. It burns on contact but emanates frost otherwise. That is…” He squinted his eyes and looked up at the black star occupying the sky. “…ghastly.”

 

Rakna swiped Sonata to his side, and without even him willing to do so, the ground split in a clean and silent manner. The obsidian that married his fur sparkled with violet embers and he pointed his hand at the star above.

 

His current Manifestation didn’t require him to choose between Internal or External. In his Soul Marble, both were accessible to him at will; for it was his World to command.

 

“[Stardust Temple,]” Rakna intoned and cast the spell he acquired from Everfrost’s ascension for the first time. The Obsidian Star responded to his will and distended for a brief moment, before shooting out several carved pillars.

 

Each of them struck the ground behind him, planting the foundations for a swarm of fragments to coalesce out of thin air and build a structure around them. It was like an intricate veil made out of thousands of interconnected, yet never-converging floating jewels.

 

Rakna breathed out and whirled his Guandao before taking a stance. Promptly, from the entrance of the ‘temple’, a swarm of ebony dust glimmering purple gushed out. It followed the werewolf’s movements and gathered over his head.

 

Roias, for once, fell into a solemn silence. He straightened himself and sighed. He cracked his neck and stretched his freshly regrown arm. 

 

He opened his mouth and murmured, “[My Name is Vindication.]” These repeating words settled down the blood spilling from his injuries and they began to heal faster. Then, he continued. “[I Am the Thief of My Own Freedom. Absolving My Crime, I Lay Down My Wings – Nemesis.]”

 

The Téras’ eyes furtively shone but his body didn’t show any outward change after that chant. But in the next moment, when Rakna instantly appeared before him, he reacted faster than ever. The polearm that was about to behead him was instantly reflected toward the ground with a swipe of his hand.

 

However, it did not stop the stardust, which mirrored the attack in the blink of an eye. It stretched forward from above the werewolf and slashed in the exact same way as Sonata did.  

 

Roias tilted his body to the side and narrowly evaded the dust. Immediately, space itself was sliced apart and the field opened up a new trench of purple fire, joining the landscape together with the flowers, yet never burning them; only accentuating their beauty.

 

“Two minutes,” the Téras uttered out of nowhere and his arm burst into water; as if he was made of that element. Rakna’s eyes minutely widened and he quickly guided the stardust to congregate as a shield before the liquid limb could hit him.

 

The impact caused a parabola of water to shower the soul realm and Roias phased through just in the nick of time to strike the werewolf’s abdomen with both his palms.

 

Rakna snarled and the obsidian on his body ruptured, releasing purple sparks. He skidded back and aimed his hand at his opponent. More stardust emerged from the temple and gathered in front of him into a spiraling cone. 

 

“[Stardust Roar,]” he whispered, and swallowing silence itself, a torrent of shimmering black and purple dust was fired. It carved and bounced off the ground and ignited itself mid-flight.

 

Roias squinted his eyes and rooted his feet in the ground. He waved his arm in opposite directions of each other and runes were carved into his arms and torso by Pandora’s Curse.

 

“[Union Magic – Abyss Valley,]” he chanted and the sound of waves echoed. The soul sea quieted down and, in its place, a far uncannier noise manifested. It didn’t feel peaceful like the sea should, nor was it neutral. The very air darkened from it and the world fell into a waking horror.

 

Space rippled like water splashed by a rock and the Stardust Roar was snuffed out with the sound of steam, followed by a helpless fall of the obsidian dust. Like drizzly grains of sand, they lost their grace and were devoured by the flowers. Soon after, the Stardust Temple was dispelled and the air recovered its brightness once the sound of waves was gone.

 

At the same time, Rakna dropped to one knee with a trembling body. He frowned and struggled to lift his hand. The golden crosses inhabiting his eyes shone and he snarled. It felt as if… he had just spent an eternity underwater within less than a second.

 

“Aah…” Roias breathed out as the runes vanished from his body. “Let me reiterate. You do not have two minutes left anymore, but about one,” he stated and Rakna frowned at him. “A Soul Marble is nothing to scoff at. However, this is your first time at folding reality, isn’t it? Not only are you not used to it yet, but the amount of soul power you’re burning in the upkeep is something that even you cannot sustain for long.” 

 

The werewolf didn’t bother to reply and slowly stood up, bolstering himself with more and more lunar energy, converting it into mana at a rapid pace.

 

“You should have been able to do much more,” Roias continued. “With enough control, you can bend the environment to your will. You could have even potentially stopped me from invoking magic by denying it out of your world. Even this Star of yours, or your strange Manifestation, you have nothing but inexperience in handling it.”

 

“Is that so?” Rakna scoffed and leaned forward. Like a wolf, he grasped the ground with one claw and bent his legs as if he was about to pounce on his prey. Behind him, his tails fanned out before pointing forward at the same spot. He then opened his maw and the Obsidian Star blinked.

 

The silver glow of lunar energy coursed through his body, traveling to the tip of his tails where it converged into a sphere of raw power. Then, internal force and mana intertwined with it, followed closely by Mystic Energy seeping out from between his jaws.

 

Roias smiled widely at the orb congregating at the tip of the werewolf’s tails. “But of course. What kind of Nine-Tailed Wolf would you be if you didn’t have that?” He muttered. “No… even better. A demonic tail is still a tail regardless; this is a Ten-Tailed Werewolf priming his Tailed Pearl.”

 

The Téras chuckled to himself as the Obsidian Star began to twist and bend, stretching downward like a rubber ball and being siphoned into the Nirvana Skill. The Tailed Pearl quickly grew into a black crystal sphere with a purple and red radiance.

 

“I can feel its uncontainable power from here,” Roias remarked casually. “I wonder how far along is your moon-powered berserk state? Did it double your attributes? Triple them? Have you found your way past the four digits?” He wondered and then laughed lightly. “Silly me, you most likely redistributed them into a single aspect anyway. What a dreadful possibility...”

 

Without saying a single word, Rakna completed the creation of the Tailed Pearl and he closed his mouth, a growl coming up his throat. Everything around the Pearl was barely resisting it; just by housing it, the Soul Marble was threatening to collapse.

 

“All right then, do it,” Roias invitingly spread his arms. “But be warned,” he added with a grin. “You have never seen the true face of an Abyss Téras. Verias was likely barely able to call upon Pandora as he was, much less wear his Abyss Skin. If you would like to find out… then launch it and perish.”

 

Rakna’s eyes narrowed at the creature taunting him and raised his voice, filled with the influence of sins, yet perfectly balanced by the Obsidian Star into a peaceful tone, “Try.” 

 

With that lone word spoken, he howled. 

 

The Obsidian Pearl was unleashed and half of the Soul Marble shattered. Roias watched it come to him with a serious countenance, managing to even stir his survival instinct. He knew for a fact that this Pearl would have wiped out planets anywhere other than this Soul Realm or the System itself.

 

He smirked and his flesh began to melt. His facial features were absorbed by his own body and in no time, what was left was nothing more than a disturbing mass of a substance. And right before the Pearl was about to hit, the Abyss engulfed the world.

 

AhraManyu

I wonder if any of you has the memory to figure out what Wailful Nightmare could potentially refer to. It’s not a reference to Life Hunter or anything. It’s in this novel and I’m pretty sure there are enough hints about Hans to draw a parallel.

Little guide for ya: Focus on ‘Nightmare’, ‘Fairies’, and ‘Stories’.