Lucivar was faced with another unexplainable situation.
His face contorted into shock as the one who lay on the ground was not Delilah but someone who Lucivar didn't want to meet at least not now or in the near future. Instead of Delilah—the one on the ground was Bianca instead.
"B- Bianca...?" He whispered in disbelief.
Upon hearing her name being called, Bianca turned and met Lucivar's gaze.
She wanted to say something but averted her gaze to her right arm which was non-existent, it was severed, and bled profusely in a constant—and steady stream. Bianca sobbed, as she saw this, the pain made her whimper in pain, "Lucivar, it hurts..."
Deg!
His heart thumped hard when he heard her plea for help.
Instinctively, Lucivar stepped forward, his body burning with the desire to help her.
Just like back then, his body still responded to Bianca's painful voice.
Snapping out of his trance, knowing that this was not real, Lucivar managed to stop himself after taking a step forward. His entire body was trembling as he fought back the urge to aid Bianca right now.
"No, this is not real. Just how do I end this? How do I pass this test?!" Lucivar muttered.
He gritted his teeth and darted his eyes left and right in search of a clue.
But his attention was pulled again when Bianca's cry became harder, "Help me, Lucivar," She pleaded further with a painful voice. "Please, forgive me for what I did and help me... It hurts, it really hurts!"
Lucivar tried to keep his gaze away from Bianca.
He feared that if he saw her in pain, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself to help her.
Suddenly, a vibrant green light appeared on his periphery.
Glancing at that green light, Lucivar bore witness as a clone of himself made of energy came to Bianca's aid, crouching down and helping her mend her severed arm. He watched this in a trance as he couldn't understand what was happening.
But for some reason, the sight of his own clone helping Bianca made him uncomfortable.
It was as if he was looking straight at his past, innocent self.
Only then that Lucivar's expression shift into a realization, and what comes after that strong realization was a grim-dark look—as he approached the clone and Bianca with steady steps—he stopped directly behind the clone, and his eyes were now humming with a green hue.
"Ah... I get it" He mused as he looked down at the scene.
Most times, looking at things from an observer's angle would show the bigger picture.
A third point-of-view is most times the clearest angle.
Lucivar now could see that while the clone was trying his best to stop the bleeding—Bianca's innocent expression contorted into a cruel one. As the clone tried to be good, she dwelled on the prospect of stabbing him in the back.
Being a good person is not rewarded in this world.
Karma was broken from the gore and cruelty of the world, and it rewarded only the bad.
If it was not broken, Lucivar wouldn't need to go through what he suffered.
If Karma was real, the innocent Delilah wouldn't end up in a tragedy.
Surely, there was something wrong.
"I want good people to be rewarded, and bad people to be punished so Karma needs fixing, I don't want others to suffer the same fate as me and Delilah," Lucivar mused as he stepped in the clone's position—evaporating it instantly. He then stretched his hand towards Bianca and grabbed her by the face, activating his new skill, absorbing what ether she had left.
As he did this, Bianca struggled kicking her feet and moving her body in a fierce struggle.
She tried to push his hand away with her only arm.
Not only that, she even tried scratching and punching, but it was no use.
Lucivar had steeled his heart and mind as he watched Bianca struggle with cold eyes.
He absorbed Bianca's ether to the last drop causing her into an ether exhaustion state, being unable to move her body an inch, and dying slowly. But instead of letting her be—Lucivar put more strength into his hand to crush her face.
"There's only one way to fix Karma..."
"Lucivar! Let go of me- kyaah!!"
"In order to fix Karma—I will aspire to become the most vile and evil being the world has ever seen. So cruel that even Karma couldn't ignore me. So cruel that Karma has no choice, but to give me misfortune thereby fixing it once and for all..."
Crack!
Bianca's face exploded with a sickening crack.
Blood splashed and drenched his hand, clothes, and face, dying them crimson.
Upon doing that, Lucivar took a deep breath and stood up before he scanned the place.
"Is this what you want?!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.
Expecting the world to return to normal—Lucivar was caught off guard by a laugh that grated through the silence. A raspy, uneven cackle that echoed as if it came from a being steeped in deep malice.
The kind of sound that crawled under his skin.
It began as a slow, wheezing growl before erupting into sharp, dry chuckles.
Lucivar's eyes darted around—searching the source of this laugh, but it came from nowhere, and everywhere at once. He was only accompanied by the eerie emptiness of the street. But then, his senses suddenly flared, alerting him to a presence behind him.
Spinning around, he was greeted by an otherworldly sight.
A figure made entirely of green energy, the same energy that seemed to suffuse this place.
The figure was a hunchback draped in regal robes from head to toe—a staff in its right hand topped with a wolf's head. Jutting from its crown was a pair of horns, that lent an air of dark reverence to its appearance.
With slow, deliberate steps, the figure advanced toward Lucivar.
Each movement sent ripples of unease through him.
As the figure was several steps ahead of him, it slammed its cane against the earth, creating a reverberating sound like steel on stone. Lucivar had never once seen this figure before but he knew, deep in his bones exactly who it was.
"Do you know what I want, child...?" the figure asked in a low tone.
Upon hearing this—Lucivar's expression tightened, as he felt an insurmountable of weight on his back as he stood before the figure. He could feel that if the figure didn't let him, he would not be able to remain standing.
"What does the God of Trickster want, isn't it obvious?" He answered, trying to maintain his composure before a God. "Of course, you just want to have a fun watch—and me killing my old self and tricking others is a fun watch"
A smile peeked from underneath the hood the moment Lucivar said that.
Instead of answering, Loki pointed down, "Humble yourself before me, kneel..."
Not giving a second to think, Lucivar felt a powerful pulling force that forced him to kneel.
"Since you are my descendant—I am obliged to reward you for your efforts," Loki said as he stood before Lucivar—placing his hand gently above Lucivar's head. "This will be one out of many encounters we are scheduled in the future, and this will be my gift to you"
Lucivar was fixed in place but he soon felt a warm sensation permeating his head.
In the next second after that, however, his eyes rolled back.
His mind was suddenly assaulted by a torrent of information, an overwhelming flood that was able to strain, every fiber of his brain. It was as if a thousand voices, were whispering secrets directly into his skull, forcefully injecting knowledge he had never possessed.
Naturally, the pain was excruciating, a throbbing agony that threatened to split his head.
But, through the blinding pain, clarity began to emerge.
Like a dark mist parting to reveal hidden truths.
Lucivar understood now, the ability he had twirled earlier, was called Greedy Grasp, a fifteen-sequence innate ability that required no ether to activate. It was an ability that allowed him to siphon the energy of others, be it ether or any other form, and make it his own.
This stolen energy would pool within a vessel inside him, a reserve he could tap into at will.
It would take the form of strands, maxed at five strands.
The energy was versatile, able to empower his other abilities, corrupt energy-based attacks, or even heal him from grievous wounds. However, the ability had its limitations. The vessel in him had a finite capacity, and for the Greedy Grasp ability to work, he needed to make direct contact with his target.
But those limitations would diminish as he grew stronger.
After what felt like an eternity, Loki released him.
Lucivar stumbled at the sudden absence of pressure, collapsing exhaustedly to the ground.
His body was drenched in sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Gazing at the false sky above—a smile crept to his face as he realized that he gained his fist ability, and it was bestowed upon him by a God nonetheless. He was getting stronger, and it wouldn't take long before he achieved what he set out to achieve.
Just then, he abruptly sat up when he heard Loki pivot and begin to walk away.
His footfalls echoed in the eerie silence.
Not even looking back, Loki spoke, "What I want is different than what my power wants..."
Confusion knitted Lucivar's brow when he heard this as he tried to decipher what Loki meant by that. But determination quickly replaced it as he asked the question burning in his mind, a question that only a God like Loki would know the answer to.
"Karma... Is it true that it was broken?" He asked, begging for an answer.
Upon hearing this, the wolf-head cane stopped as Loki stopped.
"Hmm... Karma," He mused before he pivoted sideways to look at Lucivar. A smile poked out of his hood once again, displaying rows of white teeth, "A question that you need to find the answer to yourself but I can say this—Karma, it's not quite as you expected..."
Clang!
Before Lucivar could respond, a resounding clang reverberated through the air.
Almost in an instant, everything around him—the entire city disintegrated into green energy.
It steamed and swept by an invisible wind.
In the blink of an eye, Lucivar found himself back in his Inner Chamber, facing Loki's statue.
He looked up and saw the statue's eyes glowed with a faint greenish light before everything returned to normal, leaving Lucivar alone, after what had happened, "No matter—I'll find the answer to it myself"
...
Just like that, the day of their departure arrived without incident.
Since Tobias had already restocked supplies and rented carriages, they could continue.
Dressed in a new set of black tunic and pants, with a recently bought dagger strapped to his side—Lucivar prepared to head down to join the others, loading the carriages. But as he was about to leave, a sudden grip on his wrist yanked him back into the room.
Before he could react, a fist collided with his face, knocking him to the floor.
Grunting lightly, Lucivar raised his gaze and saw a person standing towering before him.
"What do you want, Darwin?"