The pain was unbearable, Amanai hadn't felt anything like it, yet he couldn't cry, the pain was much too great to wail, to do anything.
The lords of the netherworld looked up in earnest and excitement as the machine spun and Amanai's soul was broken and grounded to fine powder that collected at a different part of the machine.
With spirit dust that potent, they could use it to increase the size of the netherworld exponentially. It was thought that hell was unlimited in its expanse, but that was only far from the truth, but hell and heaven had their limits, and though they were unfathomably wide, their leaders sought to increase the area of their domain, that it had become like an unspoken competition between the two antithetical places–a race of size between the unholy and the holy.
Their eyes shimmered as they saw the spirit dust Amanai's soul was producing. The dust that collected was a white powdery thing with a glint of green, they laughed amongst themselves and were excited, the great uniter would be nothing but spirit dust to become their spell.
"Hmmm!" The large rotend lord sounded in surprise. The ball that contained Amanai was spinning faster that it should, and it was slowly shifting position, almost becoming irregular with its rotation.
The ball warbled and began spinning of course, and the glass began to crack.
The lords eyes widened, that had never occurred in ten thousands of years, just as a soul as overflowing with spiritual energy as Amanai did hadn't over that course of time.
It was unbelievable, their mouths were agape, the Avesodiorem couldn't handle him.
Though parts of his soul had been ground to powder, he still offered resistance to the great unholy contraption though, he would never the same.
The spinning glass increased in its speed greatly, becoming over three times faster than it ought to be, and it expanded, and then suddenly burst apart, thrusting the remaining bits of Amanai soul out.
His soul was propelled at such a great speed that he created a hole in the pocket of hell, escaping it.
"Hmmm…" the lords remained composed, and the one with tentacles raised one, wanting to activate a spell.
"No! Let it go. The little thing isn't the son of Ruk anymore, and perhaps if fate wills it, it will bring more to us as this one has done." It said looking to Avesodiorem, it looked the same save for the shattered glass, and from the quantity of spirit dust that remained, almost all of Amanai had been ground, the resistance he offered only let a speckle of his soul to escape.
And almost instantaneously, the black gaping hole shrank to obscurity.
"We have what we needed."
****
Back in the lower realm, beneath the blue skies and a thatched roof was a woman deep in labor, breathing laboriously with legs up and wide apart.
They were expecting a baby, and the mother tried as hard as she could to have her baby.
A man stood outside, walking back and forth across the corridor, worried about his wife, and by him sitting was a young man with an expression of apathy and subtle scorn.
"Aha…" The midwife said slowly and received the child, however something was odd, the child didn't cry, it was small and its breathing was weak.
The middle-aged woman furrowed her brows with worry, this was a frail child, and it would die soon if she didn't do anything about it.
She closed her eyes, and breathed, thinking of the poor baron that so much needed a child, this wouldn't be the couple's first but he was important and her reputation was just as important.
She was the best physician and midwife in the country, and the lowly baron had paid greatly for her services, she contemplated, she wasn't going to let him down.
There was a spell to help in matters like this.
She wasn't just a physician, she had mastered the great ways of cultivation and entered the realm of magic weaving, it was a little task for her.
Fortunately, she was alone, and the mother had passed out. The child not crying also didn't alert those outside that a new child was already in their midst, she needed to be fast and discreet about this.
She took in a deep inhale and then breathed. A purple mist of energy came from her mouth and she thrust her free hand into the mist before it could dissolved away into the atmosphere, weaving a spell.
She weaved the complicated symbols and it shone and then zoomed and shrank into the child.
The child suddenly shone, as if he were a light bulb emitting purple light, and then, just as instantly, the light disappeared.
And the child burped and cried. A smile went across the midwife's face, and immediately the door came open.
The child's father had stormed in.
"Tell me, is it a boy?" He said with a shaky voice, as if he was afraid.
The midwife looked at the baby and saw that he was breathing well and that he looked much more healthy than a few seconds ago,
'He's going to live.' she thought, and then looked to the father.
"Yes, it's a boy."
The man's eyes sparkled with joy, and he took the child in his arms, raising him in the air, and causing the little child to cry even louder.
The midwife laughed, and she asked,
"What are you going to call him?"
"His name is Xeyus." The mother's weak voice interjected, she had awaken.
"Yes, his name is Xeyus." The father agreed.
"Xeyus Garidon, you'll be our golden boy." Lord Garidon uttered, holding little Xeyus up.
Outside, sitting, was a new elder brother, but he didn't take this role with enthusiasm as many tended to have. Even worse, the new son had be proclaimed to be their golden boy, he was their golden boy, at least until he got crippled during a city tournament.
He felt scorn for his little brother, and the happy voices did nothing but frustrate him.
He wouldn't stand for this new thing, the boy.