Chapter 224: A Happy Ending?
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The wind whispered through the desolate landscape, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and the faint rustle of distant trees. The sky above was a canvas of muted grays, heavy with the promise of an impending storm.
He raised a hand, looking at her. "Sangha," he said, "let's catch up on what we've missed."
A strange stillness hung in the air, broken only by the sound of her breathing. Shallow and hesitant.
Sangha stood frozen, her gaze locked on the outstretched hand before her. The memories flooded her mind in a torrent, each one more vivid than the last. The days of training, the quiet moments under the stars, the bond they had forged through pain and perseverance. It was all there, etched into the fabric of her being. Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between disbelief and a desperate hope that this was real.
With a trembling breath, she extended her hand, reaching out to accept the gesture, to grasp the familiarity of his touch. Her fingers brushed against his, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything would be okay.
Old memories crashed into her vividly. Her eyes grew blurry.
But then, without warning, a flash of red.
Pain.
Her eyes widened in shock as the world tilted, her body instinctively jerking away. Blood sprayed through the air, a crimson arc that splattered against the barren ground. The searing pain in her shoulder was nothing compared to the cold realization that followed.
Her arm was gone.
She staggered back, clutching the stump of her severed limb, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The man she had known, the man who had guided her, had just…
"M-Master?!" she choked out, her voice barely more than a whisper, trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.
The man before her—a figure she had once trusted with her life—stood with his hand covering his face. For a moment, he remained still, as if contemplating her words, his posture calm, almost relaxed. But then, slowly, he lowered his hand, revealing a small, amused smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Mhm, impressive, quick as always," he said, his voice laced with a casualness that sent a chill down her spine.
His eyes, however, held a glint of something darker, something she had never seen before. Seeing her trembling eyes, his smile widened, as if savoring the fear he had invoked. A low chuckle escaped his lips, growing in volume until it echoed through the empty expanse.
"Oh, Sangha, you've changed," he continued, his laughter bubbling up from deep within, a sound so twisted it seemed to mock the very bond they once shared. "To think you'd fall for the trick of a demon! Your senses have dulled, my dear little girl."
His words cut through the air like a blade, each syllable dripping with malice. Sangha's heart pounded in her chest, the coldness of his tone sending shivers down her spine.
What… what was going on?
This was not the master she remembered, not the man who had cared for her, trained her, been her only family. The person standing before her was a stranger wearing his face, a cruel mockery of the one she had once known.
"W-who…"
Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her mind struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. Rage and confusion warred within her, twisting her features into a mask of anguish. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, began to blaze with fury.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
Her shout echoed through the barren landscape, a cry filled with the raw pain of betrayal. She could feel her blood boiling, her Qi surging within her as anger replaced the shock that had paralyzed her moments before.
How could he? How could this… this thing, wearing her master's face, betray her so completely?
"Me?"
In his reply,
The world sang.
–「Psst, I see dead people.」
****
The atmosphere was thick with tension, an electric charge in the air that even the onlookers below could feel.
The three wives of Seriphoth, along with the Goddess, stood on the edge, their gazes locked on the sky where the drama unfolded. The others did the same.
The Goddess' Divinity helped them hear the conversation between the two, regardless of the distance. They realized, in another life, that those two must have been Master and Disciple.
Everything seemed alright. Although odd and surprising why his disciple from another life was here, it wasn't a bad thing. Now that she seemed to recognize him, and he reached out a hand, everything seemed fine.
It should have ended like this.
A happy ending where all parties smiled.
Instead, energy flashed, and blood rained from the sky. Everyone stared up with wide eyes.
When Seriphoth cut off Sangha's hand and began to laugh, a collective gasp rippled through the group.
The situation was far worse than they had anticipated.
"He's... he's lost it," Ruby whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief.
"This isn't him," Sieran added, shaking her head. "Something's wrong... We have to do something."
Even the Goddess was stunned beyond belief. Yet, she maintained her composure the best she could. "No, don't," she said softly, "for there is nothing we can do."
Among those two powerhouses, even if that girl lost an arm, a battle would guarantee the destruction of everything. Perhaps Pangeal would end up being destroyed in the end.
That was not a battle tiny beings like them could meddle in.
****
Up in the sky, Sangha could feel her world crumbling.
The hand she had once trusted had betrayed her, and severed her arm, and the laughter that followed pierced her heart deeper than any blade could. Her blood boiled, and with it, something dark and ancient stirred within her—a power she had tried to keep buried.
"You… you monster!" Sangha's voice trembled with the fury that consumed her. "You're not him! YOU'RE NOT HIM!"
The Vagabond, no, the twisted figure wearing his face, merely smirked, his eyes glinting with malevolent amusement. "What's wrong, my dear disciple? Did you expect kindness? Compassion?" His tone was mocking, each word dripping with venom. "You should have known better. The world is full of lies, and your greatest lie was trusting me. Like how I trusted you to hug me after saving you, only for you to kill me instead. Do you feel the taste of betrayal now? Kek."
He spread his arms, smiling softly at her, dark arrogant eyes looking down at her like daggers.
And his words indeed stabbed her likewise.
Was this truly his way of taking revenge? No, her master died smiling even as she killed him. He wasn't the type to take revenge. A pacifist like him would embrace her the moment he'd see her again.
He wouldn't pull a prank on her.
That demonic energy around this man was not merely cosmetics. He was a demon, through and through. A demonic bastard.
Sangha's rage was like a storm, a tempest of dark energy that crackled around her, the sky itself seeming to respond to her fury.
The ground below trembled, and the air grew heavy with the scent of ozone as if nature itself was bracing for the oncoming devastation.
Horns grew out of her forehead, her eyes grew red. She hissed, the blade that she dropped earlier teleported to her hand.
"I'll kill you," her voice rippled oddly, a depth of demonic essence in her tone.
She was losing control. Her suppressed side was coming out. With a feral growl, Sangha's body began to glow with a dark aura, her Qi swirling around her like a living thing.
"Vagabond Style, 7th Form,"
The sheer force of her power distorted the air, warping the space around her. She was on the brink of losing control, of unleashing a power that would annihilate everything in its path.
If she released this attack, it would erase this world. It would hurt her a lot, but she wouldn't die. However, this world would end. Innocents would die, she didn't want that, but her mind was going blank. She couldn't think that far.
"Sword That Beheads the Blac-"
But before she could unleash her technique, a shadow flickered in the periphery of her vision. It was not him, however.
From the darkness, even though there was no darkness in the sky, a figure materialized. An enigmatic presence whose aura commanded immediate respect from her. It was odd.
She stepped forward, her robe-clad form ethereal yet solid, her golden eyes glowing with wisdom and compassion. She felt a bit strong but not stronger than Sangha herself.
And yet, she calmed down as the figure placed a hand on her head. She said, "My child, please calm down."
"Ah." Clarity began to return to Sangha's eyes.
The figure spoke, her voice calm yet firm, cutting through Sangha's fury like a blade. "I don't know who you are, but since you've been turned to this demon through my technique, I'll call you my child. Please allow me that authority," she said, her tone measured and deliberate. "Calm down, killing him will not earn you anything. Rather, it'll end this world that has just been liberated. Is that truly what you want?"
"Ha… ah?" Sangha's mind, clouded by rage, struggled against the words, but something in the figure's presence forced her to pause, to consider.
Her demonic side roared within her, urging her to strike, to kill, but when the woman frowned, the demon in her calmed.
She couldn't control Sangha outright, this wasn't mind control, but it was still odd. Her suggestion alone was powerful enough.
"Remember who you are, child," the figure continued, her gaze unwavering. "Remember what you've fought for. Don't let this moment of madness destroy everything."
The words resonated within Sangha, battling against the darkness threatening to consume her. A light shone on the dark tunnel that was her mind, and she pulled herself towards it.
Slowly, the destructive energy swirling around her began to dissipate, and her breathing steadied. The red glow in her eyes dimmed, and her horns vanished.
She hesitated, the sword in her hand lowering ever so slightly.
Satisfied with the outcome, the figure smiled at her, pink lips on a red face that looked at her gently. "I think you should leave. He's not in his right mind right now, but he truly is your Master. As you saw earlier, he was a kind man, but then he transformed. He'll just have to return to his normal form. Killing him is pointless."
Sangha frowned at her. She tapped into her perception power to judge if there was any mind control or something similar in her words. There were none. She was simply advising her on something.
It made sense.
Plus… if her guess about this woman's identity was right, this woman didn't wish harm towards her Master either. If this man truly was her master, and if he could return to normal, she didn't want to harm him. Even if he acted like a demon right now.
She didn't want to lose him for the second time, especially if this devil mask of his wasn't permanent.
"Fine," Sangha said, nodding at her. Then, she looked at her… Master. His expression was grim, he was looking at both her and the robed woman. "I will find you… Master. It seems you've defeated six gods of Atlanton here. I'll find you after I finish the rest of Atlantonian's Gods, and make sure you're alright. But if I see that you're still a demon the next time we meet," Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I'll kill you. I'll relieve you from your pain. I'll kill you before you can shame your past self any further."
With that, she waved her hand. The flux of space-time collapsed, opening before her in a grand way. Before leaving, Sangha looked at the girls below, and then at his face. Her lips quivered meeting his gaze, his soul was all too familiar to her senses. He was not a fake. She didn't want to leave… not like this, not being able to at least hug him, but she had no choice.
She promised herself to return to him soon. As soon as possible. Closing her eyes with a sigh, she reopened them and stepped into the Way.
Leaving the observers on the ground, and her master on the sky, who faced the robed figure.
"She was talking as if she could kill me so easily, eh," the Venerable One rubbed the back of his head and said. His eyes lingered on the spot she had just vanished on, and then at the robed figure. "And you agreed with her. You really think I'm so weak, Lilithra?"
Guitar strings played across the sky.
The song that had been playing so far came to a stop. It changed into a more gentler, romantic music. It began to play, its melancholic notes filling the empty air.
–「I love it when you call me señorita...」
"So you recognize me," The robed woman smiled at the sound and said, her hand slowly taking off her robe from her head. Shimmering golden eyes revealed to look at him as red skin shone under the moonlight. "My husband…♡"
A gentle, love-filled smile bloomed on her face. The Venerable One faced her with a placid, unreadable expression.
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Author Note: Don't forget to Vote guys!!! This was a good week, Top 15 with 2-chaps. Let's aim for Top 10 with this chapter, in which case I'll post two chapters this Sunday!
I am here with another recommendation for y'all. Okay, let's first say I have NOT become an official shout-out author. They're just good old homies, who are now aspiring to become authors. And their stories are good.
Are you looking for LOTM vibe stories? Give this a try, it's from a friend aiming to make it big, the next cuttlefish frfr. And unlike the last one, this one's out in Webnovel. I made some LOTM nerd-fan read this using the same line, and he loved it. "Not the next cuttlefish, but the story is REALLY hooking. Need more!" So check it out!
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Title: Veilbound Secrets: The Oath Bearer's Curse
Synopsis: Thrown into a mysterious realm teeming with forgotten magic, eldritch entities, and ancient powers, a young man from Earth awakens to find himself caught between two identities—his own and that of another named Aric Oswin. Now, he is forced to navigate a treacherous path marked by family legacies, dangerous alliances, and the echoes of a curse that binds him to a body that is not his.
Guided by a cryptic voice that claims to know the way out of this realm, yet it also seems to be playing a game of its own, weaving him deeper into a web of intrigue and manipulation.
As he uncovers whispers of long-lost oaths and the burden of an unfolding prophecy, he finds himself at the center of a cosmic struggle where allies and enemies blur, and nothing is as it seems. The more he tries to reclaim his fate, the more entangled he becomes in a plot orchestrated by powers beyond mortal comprehension.
Caught between the shadows of reality and the horrors of the unknown, Aric faces a harrowing choice:
What price is he willing to pay to reclaim his fate, and who—or what—awaits him beyond the veil?
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