The battlefield, once alive with chaos, fell into an eerie silence. Dust settled over the bodies of Carlos's fallen men, and the sharp tang of blood lingered in the air. Carlos stood among the ruins of his ambition, his confidence shattered. Twenty of his best assassins lay defeated, their lives claimed by Urilo's devastating magic. The certainty of victory that had fueled his every move now seemed a cruel joke.
Carlos's eyes hardened. He refused to let this end in failure. Drawing on his deepest reserves of power, electric energy surged through him, crackling violently and illuminating the dim battlefield. His body moved with inhuman speed, the electric charge enhancing every strike.
Haizen barely had time to react. Each of Carlos's sword swings was a blur, faster than anything Haizen had ever faced. Desperately parrying, he felt his strength waning with every clash of steel. Finally, Carlos's blade struck true, knocking Haizen to the ground with a force that echoed like thunder. The impact left Haizen gasping for breath, his vision swimming as blood trickled from his lips.
Carlos turned to Urilo, his determination fierce. Without hesitation, he unleashed his mightiest attack—a thunderstrike that tore through the battlefield like an unholy roar. Urilo, caught mid-chant while preparing another spell, was struck full force. The magic shattered his barrier, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Carlos's assassins, lurking in the shadows, saw their opportunity. Silently, like phantoms, they encircled Urilo, their blades glinting in the fading light. The tension was suffocating as they closed in for the kill.
The air around them suddenly shifted, thick with a foreboding energy. All eyes turned toward Nova's unconscious form. Lines of dark gold began to carve themselves into his right hand, ancient symbols glowing faintly in the dim light. The runes pulsed with a rhythm that mirrored a heartbeat, radiating a power both mesmerizing and terrifying.
Nova's eyes snapped open, their dark voids swallowing the battlefield's fading light. Haizen's heart sank; the brother he knew was no longer there. Something else had awakened in his place.
The assassins hesitated, their movements faltering. Carlos, sensing the shift, barked orders. "What are you waiting for? Kill him!"
But before they could act, Nova rose effortlessly to his feet. The glowing symbols on his hand flared brighter, casting an ominous light across the battlefield. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though savoring the fear around him. He turned his gaze to Haizen, and with a single motion, the cursed book flew from Haizen's pocket into Nova's waiting hand.
"Here it is," Nova said, his voice low and resonant, layered with a sinister calm.
The book began to change, melting into a mixture of gold and crimson that flowed into the glowing symbols etched into Nova's hand. The transformation was grotesque yet mesmerizing, as if the book's essence was feeding something ancient within him.
Carlos, watching the scene unfold, took a step back, his voice trembling. "Who... what are you?"
Nova turned his gaze toward Carlos, his dark eyes gleaming with a cold power. "I am what shadows and light have forged," he said, his voice echoing unnaturally. "A vessel of ancient knowledge and wrath."
The assassins, emboldened by Carlos's presence, lunged toward Nova. He raised his hand, murmuring an inaudible word. The battlefield fell deathly silent. Then, one by one, the assassins began to scream, their bodies twisting unnaturally. Flesh and blood were ripped from them, spiraling toward Nova's hand like debris caught in a storm. Within moments, they were reduced to nothing but dust, their essence absorbed into the glowing symbols.
Carlos's composure cracked. The sight before him was unlike anything he had ever faced. Fear clawed at his resolve, but desperation drove him forward. Summoning every ounce of his power, he unleashed his most devastating thunderstrike. The bolt of lightning tore through the air, its brilliance blinding.
But as the lightning raced toward Nova, it simply vanished, consumed by an unseen force. Before Carlos could process what had happened, Nova disappeared, reappearing behind him in an instant.
Carlos spun around, but it was too late. Nova's fist, glowing with unearthly energy, slammed through his skull. The battlefield went still as Carlos's lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
Only Haizen and Urilo remained, battered and broken in the pit of the hideout. Haizen forced himself to his knees, his body screaming in protest. He stared at Nova, who stood amidst the carnage, his aura suffocating. The glowing symbols on Nova's hand pulsed faintly, the golden and black lines flickering like dying embers.
"Who are you?" Haizen asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Nova turned, his gaze locking onto Haizen. A sinister smirk curled his lips. "I am what has been awakened," he said, his voice reverberating with an otherworldly depth.
But even as he spoke, the overwhelming power began to fade. Nova's body wavered, his strength draining rapidly. The glow in his eyes dimmed, and the symbols etched into his skin flickered before fading completely. Nova collapsed to the ground, unconscious once more, the battlefield around him silent and still.
Haizen crawled toward his brother, his vision blurring as exhaustion overtook him. He reached Nova's side, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "Nova," he murmured, his voice filled with equal parts fear and relief. Whatever had taken over his brother was gone—for now.
Urilo stirred nearby, coughing weakly as he struggled to sit up. The battlefield, once a place of unimaginable chaos, was now a graveyard. Carlos, the Butcher, and their assassins were gone, their ambitions snuffed out by a power they couldn't comprehend.
Haizen looked at Nova's unconscious form, the faint traces of the golden symbols still visible on his hand. The weight of what had just transpired bore down on him. This wasn't over. Whatever force had awakened within Nova wasn't done with them yet.
As the ruins around them fell silent, Haizen vowed to uncover the truth behind the power that had taken hold of his brother. The battle might have been won, but the war was far from over.