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System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred
The fall ended prematurely. Oliver hit an unyielding surface and felt all the wind slam out of his lungs. The force from the collision shot up his spine like fire through the nerves. In the darkness, there were no echoes, no sky, no ground—only an endless, choking absence of sound. He coughed. Blood smeared his lips. His fingers trembling, he began to push against the foreign black stone under him.Then he saw it.A space, vast and perfect in shape. A circular polished obsidian, with walls smooth and towering, but with no ceiling—the sky above, gone. Instead, an infinite void opened upward, with stars twisting sluggishly across an empty canvas. A quiet hum vibrated beneath the skin.It was in the center of this bizarre room that a mirror stood.It was higher than any mountain, wider than any battlefield. The frame was a molten silver flowing with red and gold veins that pulsed like living metal. The glass was too transparent, too deep- sheen might not be the appropriate word; it migh
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-One
No noise. No light. Only movement. Only pain. Only war. Oliver opened his eyes, or thought he did; nothing felt different in that place whether he kept them shut or not: no light change, no shapes, no borders, no floor, no sky, nothing but an endless void, pressing in from all sides with pressure like the deepest ocean. But he moved, so something must still exist.Smoke entered his lungs. Ice left his mouth. Every thud of pain in his ribs, pain that etched itself into his bones as fatigue, and yet he managed to keep going. Something else moved, too- around him, behind him, inside him. The monsters had come without the luxury of a warning, without the snarl of rage, or the cry of rage. They had come with silence.The first was but a shadow of a hand--a hand that pulled back from the dark and closed around his throat, its grip a grasp of memory, regret, and betrayal he had never healed from; as he shoved it away with his bare fingers, its form twisted, arms growing long, then thick, onl
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Two
The light just seems to vanish from out of nowhere. A second ago, there it was-an object glowing brilliantly and warmly-and suddenly, it was all gone. The sky blinked, like an eye closing down. Everything turned to black. Then there were only the stairs. They curled upward. Cold, grey stone. One spiral staircase and no end in sight. It twists into the sky, through clouds of gold and fire. There are no walls-no railings-just air all around and far beneath, nothing. No ground. No sound. No color. No time. Just dark bottomless space..Oliver stood at the bottom of the stairs. Or maybe he was standing there for a long time already. He was not so sure. There was an ache in his chest, like it was torn from inside. Smoke rose from his skin, and his clothes burned and worn away. There was blood dripping from his hands. He tried to breathe, but it hurt. Still, he looked up. All that remained were those stairs. So he stepped forward. Slowly. Cautiously. His foot touched the first step. And t
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Three
Oliver was trudging up the stone stairs with the realization that he was moving painfully slow. The air weighed heavy, and each step felt more strenuous than the previous one. His hands were trembling. His chest felt tight. For no apparent reason. Just a feeling—a gut instinct of bad omen.And then it happened.The Rift didn’t just open within himself. It tore apart.An invisible stroke ran through his chest, like a lightning bolt striking it, but there came no sound. Only the pain: the marvelous, jagged, cutting right through him. He fell on one knee and gasped. The cracked stone of the stair came alive. Then the bubbling began—like wax being melted at the flame's edge.Heat erupted from inside him. First it was orange; then it turned white; now it was blue. The fire pouring from his chest was a tempest: rushing up, a whirl, furious, flashing. It burned quietly, but its heat howled. The sword slipped from Oliver’s grip, falling to the ground with a clang.For something too blinding,
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Four
With a roar that was not merely fury but grief, exile, and ancient betrayal turned into thunder, the colossus lunged forward, not as though it were a creature that had waited so long to be born, but as if with the terrifying speed of a thing that had long waited to be born.Oliver didn't pause; he took up instinct against design. His body moved then, not from muscle memory, but as if some deeper code had written this moment into the very fibersHis boots ignited sparks across the scorched floor, his every step a scream of resistance against impossibility, his blade trailing light that pulsed like a second heart, running in to the chaos. The monster-instance of his own image, by time and torment-raised a fist the size of a tombstone and every bit of it fell on Oliver, who attempted to fling himself to the left. The sheer force of that impact sent shockwaves through the rock, bursting fissures out across the obsidian floor and launching shards into the air like the jagged wings of a dyi
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Five
The air smelled of orange blossoms and honey. For a long time, Oliver didn’t move. The sun warmed his face, and the wind was soft—like breath against his skin. A tree above him rustled gently, its leaves whispering secrets he couldn’t quite hear.He was lying in the grass. Real grass. Not cracked stone or ash-covered ground. Grass that tickled his arms. The sky was impossibly blue, like an ocean flipped upside down, and the clouds were like boats drifting with nowhere to go. No fire. No screaming metal. No sword in his hand.Only peace.He sat up slowly. His ribs didn’t hurt. His hands were whole. Even the scar across his chest, the one he’d earned in the fourth siege of Halron Keep, was gone. He touched his face, then his chest. Nothing. Clean.“Oliver,” a voice called.He turned.Azrael was walking toward him—alive. Smiling. That smile, that impossible, heart-breaking grin. His long black coat danced in the breeze. His boots didn’t crunch against the ground because there was no war
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Six
From the ceiling to the floor, the cavern was shaking. Dust motes and little sparks hung in the air, glowing like fireflies. Fragments of the battle still echoed faintly. Cracks curved across the charred walls, where pieces of stone and weapons were scattered over the ground like forgotten remnants of a story.Amidst all this, Oliver was lying sprawled on the ground. His chest was slowly rising and falling. Breathing, yes. Only just. He had survived through the illusion and to the other side of the trap, killed the strange mirror guardian, and survived the battle. It had now taken everything from him. His arms were heavy. His legs wouldn't move. His thoughts seemed to crawl towards him slowly, as though having to plough their way through viscous water. He had lost his sword. He remembered throwing it into the strange gate at the very last moment. It had been the sword he threw. He had seen the hilt disappearing into the light of dawn or early morning, or so he thought just a shade b
System Activated: Divine Talent Granted Chapter One Hundred-Seven
Oliver stood on weak legs. The air was thick with dust. It floated all around him, making it hard to breathe. Each breath hurt. His lungs burned. His skin was scratched and bleeding. His arm had a deep cut. Blood ran down it, warm and sticky. He had lost a lot of blood. Too much. But still, his mind was clear. Very clear.In front of him, the Heart was gone. It had exploded into light and smoke. The tall spire that held it had fallen. Now it was only black rubble. It smoked like something dead. Something very old. And something very wrong had been inside it. Now that thing was free.Oliver could feel it. Watching him.The air around him felt heavy. Something was hiding in the smoke. It had no face. But its gaze was sharp. Sharp like a knife. It touched the edges of Oliver's thoughts. It crawled through his mind. Cold. Silent. Hungry.Then—A sound. Not a normal sound. Not the wind. Not rocks falling. It was like a breath. A long, deep breath.The stone under Oliver’s feet shook. Then l
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Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Two
Oliver stood still, his heart pounding in his chest. The darkness in front of him seemed to move, like it was alive. It wasn’t just a shadow; it was something much worse. The air felt cold, heavy, as if the darkness was pressing in on him from all sides. He could feel the weight of it, like a thick blanket suffocating the light.And then the figure appeared. It wasn’t like anything Oliver had ever seen. It was tall and thin, its shape hard to make out, like it was made of shadows and fog. It didn’t have a face, not really. But Oliver could feel it staring at him, its eyes hidden in the darkness."You can’t save him," the figure whispered, its voice quiet, but so full of mockery that it made Oliver’s blood run cold. "You’ve failed before. You’ll fail again."Oliver’s body tensed. He didn’t want to hear that. He couldn’t bear it. The pain in his chest grew stronger as the figure’s words echoed in his mind, over and over. The faces-the ones he couldn’t forget—flashed before his eyes. Ail
Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-One
Oliver stepped forward, his foot lifting and crossing into the swirling lights of the Star Gate. As soon as he did, the world seemed to vanish beneath him. He felt a strange, cold emptiness as if everything around him was slipping away into nothingness. It wasn’t just a feeling—it was like the very fabric of reality was being torn apart. He gasped in shock, his heart pounding in his chest.There was a deep silence at first. A heavy silence, one that pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. The air was thick, and the darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, like a giant, endless void. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything except for the echo of his own breath. He had no sense of time. Everything felt wrong.For a moment, Oliver thought he might be trapped forever in this vast emptiness.Then, suddenly, the silence broke with a bright, blinding light. It came out of nowhere, crashing into him with such force that he staggered back. The light was so bright, s
Chapter One Hundred-Twenty
There was no up. No down. No left or right. Only light. A rushing, roaring sea of white light.Oliver floated in it, weightless, like a leaf in a wild river. His body tingled all over, the memory of pain still fresh on his skin. He tried to move, but there was nothing to grab onto. There was no ground, no sky, nothing at all. Only the endless white.Somewhere close to him, Ailith held onto his hand. He could feel her fingers, small and tight around his. Her silver hair whipped around her face, flying in the invisible wind. She looked so small here, so fragile, but she didn’t let go.The white light pulled them deeper, spinning them slowly, like falling into a dream they couldn't wake up from.Oliver’s heart hammered in his chest, so loud he could almost hear it.Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Every breath he took felt thick, like breathing smoke instead of air.Where are we? he thought. What happened? Azrael...The image of Azrael flashed in his mind—Azrael, broken and chained, reaching
Chapter One Hundred-Nineteen
Oliver plunged through blackness, which oozed over his skin like oil. The world wobbled and roared, streaking colors merging into din. His lungs seared. His mind shrieked. Above him somewhere, Azrael's voice echoed, broken and distant, "You can't save me."Something morose slammed into him, stone-like. The impact rattled him to the marrow, expelling all the air from his chest. He briefly lay stunned there, gazing up at a vast sky rife with broken stars.Then— A whisper in an ear."You failed him."With a start, Oliver jerked upright, heart racing. This was no voice of his own. It was something different, something cold; heavy, a weight pressing down on the inside of his ribs.He stumbled to his feet on a slick and freezing stone, while mist coiled around his ankles, hissing and writhing almost like some living creature.Ahead of him was Ailith. Curled into the ground, silver hair hanging in disarray around her face, her body trembled.He staggered in her direction."Ailith!" Silen
Chapter One Hundred-Eighteen
The creature lunged. Oliver twisted aside at the last second, the thing’s tendrils ripping the air inches from his chest. He staggered, boots skidding on slick stone, heart hammering against his ribs. The Lost Name pulsed above the pedestal, so close he could almost reach it—almost.The monster hissed, a wet, tearing sound like rotting cloth being ripped apart. Its body flexed, stitched from old memories, broken laughter, whispered regrets.Move!Oliver dove forward, sliding across the cavern floor. His fingers brushed the pedestal—cold, humming, alive. The Lost Name burned against his skin, sinking into him like a brand, not hurting, but changing.The creature howled.Oliver turned, wild-eyed—and Azrael was there, silver fire burning in his hands. He slammed a blast of magic into the stitched-together nightmare, sending it flying back into the shadows.“Move, kid!” Azrael barked. “We’re not done yet!”Oliver staggered to his feet, the Lost Name singing in his blood. It felt right. Li
Chapter One Hundred-Seventeen
The ground was still shaking. The black rain poured harder, drumming against the broken houses like a million fists.Oliver stumbled as Azrael pulled him to his feet. His side screamed with pain, but he shoved it aside. No time.The cultists weren’t gone. They were regrouping, slithering back into a loose circle around them. Eyes shining. Teeth bared. The woman with silver eyes stood at the front, smiling wider than ever.Azrael tightened his grip on Oliver’s arm. His skin was warm—too warm, like touching a forge. His whole body flickered with silver fire, burning away the black rain before it could touch him."Move," Azrael growled. "No time to chat."They ran. Mud splashed up to their knees. The ruined village twisted around them, every street looking the same—broken, drowned, dead.Behind them, the cultists shrieked and howled, the sound chasing them like knives in the dark.Oliver gasped for breath, every step sending a fresh jolt of pain through his ribs. His mind raced.What the
Chapter One Hundred-Sixteen
The world was falling apart. Oliver felt it the very moment he stepped across the black fields.The ground under his boots was soft and wet, like stepping on rotten fruit. A thick fog hung low over everything, clinging to his skin like a wet sheet. The fog smelled bad—like old eggs and burning hair. Every breath he took made his throat burn. The air was heavy, like trying to breathe through mud. And with every slow beat of his heart, Oliver felt something even worse: a sense that his body was becoming less his own. Like the world was trying to pull him apart from the inside.Above him, the sky was broken. Thick gray clouds twisted and moved like giant snakes, fighting each other. Now and then, something like lightning flashed behind them, but it wasn’t the kind of light Oliver had ever seen. It was black and red, pulsing like a heartbeat.And from those torn clouds... the rain came. But it wasn’t real rain. It was thick, black, and sticky, falling in heavy drops like tar. When it hi
Chapter One Hundred-Fifteen
Oliver fell for what felt like forever. The Mouth had swallowed him whole, and now he tumbled through blackness. The air was cold and wet, like he was falling through a stormcloud made of ink. Strange lights blinked in and out of existence around him—red, green, purple—colors that didn’t belong in any sane world.Whispers brushed against his skin, cold and sharp. Remember. Forget. Belong. Break.He squeezed his eyes shut, but the words were inside him now, scratching the inside of his skull.When he finally hit the ground, it wasn’t ground at all. It was soft and pulsing—like the inside of a living thing. He groaned and rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing. Every breath he took tasted wrong, like burned sugar and rotting wood.Then he heard it. Ailith's voice. But it wasn’t strong anymore. It was thin. Fragile. "Oliver... get up."He forced himself to stand. His body ached. His muscles felt half-melted. When he turned, he saw her.Ailith was on her knees, one hand pressed to her
Chapter One Hundred-Fourteen
The world had restarted. Like a clock rewinding, everything moved backward before slowly beginning again. Time pulled itself back together, piece by piece, like broken glass being glued into one mirror. But even when it looked whole, the cracks were still there.Oliver lay on the ground. His back felt the cold, damp soil. His eyes opened slowly. The sky above him looked strange. It shimmered and shook, like it had been hurt. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was seeing. Something had sliced through the sky—a long, jagged cut—and even though it was starting to heal, the scar still shimmered with a strange light.The air smelled sharp and strange. Like old blood and burning books. Like rust and smoke. Oliver coughed and sat up, using his arms for support. They trembled under his weight. His chest rose and fell quickly. Every part of his body hurt. His hands were scraped. His knees were bruised. He felt like he had fallen from somewhere very high.He touched his chest,
