CHAPTER 23: Race to the Relic
As the two behemoths slowed, their colossal forms heaving with exhaustion, a young boy, battered and barely clinging to life, pushed himself upright. His body, riddled with wounds, had healed just enough to give him a fighting chance. Cruz knew that the relic, the object of the giants' fierce battle, was too powerful to ignore. If these creatures fought so desperately for it, it meant only one thing: he had to claim it.
With a painful grunt, Cruz dashed forward, his legs burning with every step, his lungs screaming for air. His body protested with every movement, begging him to stop, but he pushed through. His mind was flooded with system prompts, warning him of the dangers ahead.he ran, his battered body screaming for him to stop, the echo of ragged breaths swallowed by the countless system prompts of the lingering mana and high energy that kept assaulting him. In contrast, his body went through more torture than he could fathom.
he could feel his body being destructured and fractured as he clenched his teeth his hand tightly grasping his spear while the other pressed against his the deep healing wound in his side.
[You have been affected by high-level energy]
[High-energy bodies detected. Please move to a safer area]
[You have been touched by the skill shadow trials]
[Losing health fast. Move out of high-energy area]
[shadow trials has been repelled by the skill solaras light]
[You have been affected by high-level energy]
[High-energy bodies detected. Please move to a safer area]
[You have been touched by the skill holy defiance]
[Losing health fast. Move out of high-energy area]
[holy defiance has been repelled by skill abysall call]
[You have been affected by high-level energy]
[High-energy bodies detected. Please move to a safer area]
[You have been touched by the skill shadow reformance]
[Losing health fast. Move out of high-energy area]
[shadow reformance has been repelled by the skill guardians grace ]
Innumerable energies abyssal, shadow, light and thermal affected him bruising his soul his mind and his body but he still held on, he knew there was no other way to do it, the dungeon might collapse if any of them won and he might be trapped in here forever or even worse die to their antics. he did not believe for one second that any of them would be merciful to an intruder
The relic was close now, glowing faintly in the distance, but so were the two titanic figures—locked in a deadly dance of power. As Cruz sprinted past them, the overwhelming presence of their auras almost forced him to his knees. The cathedral they fought in was a shattered ruin, once a holy site now tainted by the dark energy radiating from the combatants. Tattered depictions of angels in stained glass littered the ground, and the corroded walls seemed to swallow any light that entered.
Both beings sensed Cruz's approach. Their eyes, glowing with unnatural light, flicked toward him. The Warden, a hulking figure of shadows and jagged crystals, hummed ominously, sending a pulse of energy through the air. The knight, clad in shining armor now dulled by battle, repelled the Warden's presence with a halo of radiant energy. Despite their weariness, both beings emanated an aura of strength, one that threatened to crush Cruz under its weight.
But Cruz, knowing full well he couldn't match their power, ignored their silent warnings. He darted toward the relic, the object pulsing with a faint, otherworldly glow at the center of the ruined cathedral. He was a mouse in a battlefield of lions, yet he ran with every ounce of strength he could muster.
Suddenly, the knight, eyes wide with renewed determination, lunged forward, his tattered body leaking golden mist mixing with tendrils of darkness a testament to the wounds of the fight as the dark and light energies fought inside both their bodies. The Warden, not to be outdone, surged forward as well, his body radiating shadowy mist that crackled with glowing, explosive energy.
The two beings and a boy could be seen on the run as the dark-haired rugged boy in tattered robes filled with black wriggling with tiny worms and small exploding light particles tiny to the seeing eye, with a massive gash of a wound visibly healing and rugged boots which he had not even used for long as they were now almost breaking apart moved fast as massive injured behemoths move from behind him casting a comical look yet the danger of the closely reaching skills and abilities spell doom for Cruz.
Then, with a flick of its wrist, the Warden summoned a spear of pure shadow and hurled it toward Cruz. The knight, in response, unleashed a wave of sword qi—a brilliant arc of energy that sliced through the air, heading straight for him.
The spear and the blade qi wove together in a deadly dance, both aiming to tear him apart. Cruz's instincts screamed at him to dodge, but he knew it was a trap. If he moved even a step, the giants would close in and finish him off. His mind raced, searching for an escape, but the situation seemed hopeless.
Gritting his teeth, Cruz made a desperate gamble. He planted his spear into the ground and, with a forceful push, launched himself into the air, his body twisting and writhing as the Warden's spear rocketed past him. His limbs screamed in pain, bones snapping under the immense pressure as the force of the throw shattered almost every bone in his body. Blood sprayed from his wounds, painting the air in crimson.
The sword qi wasn't so merciful. It grazed his side, sending a searing jolt of agony through his already battered form. But as the energy began to consume him, Cruz crossed an invisible boundary—the periphery of the relic's power. The moment he did, the deadly energy dissipated, nullified by the ancient force protecting the area.
The two titans froze in their tracks, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear. Cruz staggered forward, each step a monumental effort. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath, his body a ruin of torn flesh and broken bones. But he had made it. He was at the altar, the relic's radiant glow illuminating his bloodied face.
Behind him, the Warden—a massive figure of shadows—twitched in despair, its glowing eyes locked onto the boy. The knight, still clad in his now-ruined silver armor, stood motionless, his face a mask of disbelief. Even these beings, with all their power, dared not approach the relic's boundary.
Cruz's relief was short-lived. As he reached for the relic, the runic symbols on the small finger began to glow, pulsating with a mysterious light. His eyes widened as a wave of searing pain washed over him. The light intensified, enveloping him in a radiant aura that seemed to burn his very soul.
[Absolute divinity detected.]
His body convulsed as the relic's power surged through him. His skin blistered and cracked, fresh wounds forming over old scars. Cruz writhed in agony, his mind barely holding onto consciousness as the pain became unbearable. Foam began to form at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, it felt as though his body would tear itself apart.
Yet, deep within, something stirred. The bloodline of the Quake Titan, the primordial power he had absorbed, roared in defiance. A massive shadowy figure loomed behind him—a silhouette of the ancient titan, its power awakening within him. His charred skin began to mend, the horrific injuries knitting together with unnatural speed.
But there was no time to recover. The weak strand of the blood though mighty couldn't withstand it, before he could even recover another surge of energy rushed toward him—this time the runes were brighter holy, and blinding headed towards him . Cruz gritted his teeth, pushing past the pain and exhaustion. There was no room for hesitation, no room for fear. He had to act.
Drawing on the last remnants of his strength, Cruz invoked his most reliant skill[Descent of Primus]. The air around him stilled, the very fabric of reality trembling as time itself bent to his will. For a brief moment, everything froze—the Titans, the relic, and even the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
The air around him stilled. It was as if the world itself took a breath and held it. Every sound—every whisper of wind, every distant cry—faded, swallowed by an unnatural silence. His heart raced, but even that seemed muted, distant. Then, without warning, his vision began to blur.
A ripple of energy surged through him, like a thread yanking him backward, and the ground beneath his feet slipped away. The world distorted, the edges of his sight warping as if reality was being twisted and stretched. He tried to reach out, but his limbs felt sluggish, as though time itself had slowed to a crawl. And then, in an instant, he was no longer there.
Images exploded into his mind, too fast to comprehend at first. He saw the crumbling castle around him knit itself back together, the jagged stones rising and reforming as though time had reversed. Dust swirled into the air before being drawn back to the ground. Tapestries long faded by age regained their vibrant colors, walls stood tall and unbroken, and shattered windows repaired themselves in a cascade of shimmering light.
He stumbled, struggling to keep his balance, as the visions overwhelmed him. He wasn't just seeing the castle restored—he was watching its history unfold in rapid succession. People appeared, moving through the halls with purpose, their lives flashing by like flickering candle flames. He saw grand feasts in the great hall, heard the laughter and music of forgotten celebrations. He witnessed the rise of kings and queens, the fall of empires, and the endless battles fought to defend these very walls.
Centuries passed in the blink of an eye. The city beyond the castle walls thrived, expanded, then decayed, its once-bustling streets now empty ruins. He saw a void space emerge beneath the castle, dark and foreboding, as creatures of horrors were born from its depths. Heroes and monsters alike waged war within this void corridor, each encounter a brief flare of violence before the scene shifted again.
His mind reeled under the weight of it all. It was too much, too fast. His breath came in short gasps as he struggled to hold on, to make sense of the endless stream of life and death unraveling before him. He tried to move, but his body felt trapped in place, anchored by the sheer force of the vision.
And then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
The images vanished, leaving him standing alone in silence. The once-grand castle was gone, its restored walls and vibrant history replaced by emptiness. He blinked, disoriented. The city, the people, the battles—they had all disappeared.
Around him, all that remained was a barren wasteland, a bleak and desolate landscape where nothing grew, nothing moved. The once-proud castle was nothing more than dust and ash, blown away by the wind that howled through the empty expanse.
He stood there, breathless and shaken, trying to comprehend what he had just seen. But no matter how hard he tried, the weight of the past still lingered, a haunting echo in the void.