City of Sin Book 9, Chapter 143

Fulcrum Of Fate

Still floating in mid-air, Richard looked at the small hole in the chest area of his robes. At only a needlehead’s width, this was the true size of the Light of Annihilation. However, on the other end of the hole was the bright glow of the destiny crystal!

Helped again… A smile crawled up his face. He had wondered why he couldn’t break this last destiny crystal, but now he realised where its true purpose was. He would have been dead if he had actually managed to crush it, but perhaps Ferlyn had foreseen all of this when she had Flowsand give it to him.

Was this thing truly indestructible? The question was quickly answered by the glib mouth, “The Fulcrum of Fate! How? How do you have something that no strength can destroy! How does it exist? How is it with you? Impossible!”

“Nothing is impossible,” Richard sneered, “Just accept your end.”

He raised both hands, countless electric arms forming around him as the power of his truename reached its peak. The Light of Annihilation had given him an idea, and he distilled his power into a single point of energy even as a vague melody rang out around him. The laws of destruction resonated as a thin blue beam of light split the tower in two.

“The Deepblue Aria! How do you have this? No—” the voice suddenly squealed like a hen being choked, the blue light vanis.h.i.+ng as the tower split apart. The reaper wars.h.i.+ps all around immediately lost their mobility; the one attack had almost laid waste to the entire reaper base!

Richard wouldn’t give the reapers a chance. He quickly blinked to the centre and was about to charge in, but paused for a moment as another giant portal opened in the void. The Legion of Nightmares flooded through, but strangely enough they didn’t so much as touch him as they aimed for the reapers instead. He didn’t understand why they had appeared, but quickly sent Nasia a warning, “They might be another opponent. Careful.”

"Relax, they won't dare to come close,” she dismissed his worries, so he nodded and flew through one of the cracks and started tearing the base apart from within. Countless ground and s.p.a.ce reapers rushed towards him, but they were broken apart before they could even get close. A summoned avatar of destruction destroyed everything nearby with its energy beams, the rain of bullets that came in response simply bouncing off the tetrahedral surface or being bogged down and ground to a halt.

Richard strolled through the void, breaking down the tower as he went. Everything he approached lost all signs of activity, the broken components unable to rea.s.semble again.

“Impossible!”

“Haha, these are my latest battle units, they will definitely!”

“Look at my cute babies… Oh no, why aren’t they moving?”

He eventually grew tired of the squealing voice’s outrage, deigning to reply, “Because my understanding of the reapers is better than yours.”

“Impossible, I designed them!” the voice groaned.

“And I fought them,” he responded, burning through a thick wall to arrive at a wide hall. The place was a few kilometres across and filled with many strange machines, but most eye-grabbing of all was a transparent tube in the centre that was filled with some sort of reddish solution. In the middle of this solution floated a solitary human brain.

“So this is your original appearance. Shall we talk, or should I destroy you right now?” Richard remarked coldly.

The image of a middle-aged man who dressed like a mage appeared on a nearby screen, with not a single hair out of place. He had bluish-grey eyes and wore a large silver ring on his left hand, the crest of the Scholars on it being a familiar sight. He gave Richard a mage’s salute, “Let me reintroduce myself. I am Layton, Layton Soremburg. I am the person who built Soremburg Castle.”

“Soremburg, huh,” Richard muttered. He had already guessed it at this point, but for it to be true was still somewhat surprising. The Scholars were the greatest nemesis in his life, and despite many attempts to find them he hadn’t been able to track them down at all. While he managed to reduce their power on the surface, these relatively weak individuals were quite difficult to deal with.

His eyes glowed brightly as he scanned across the root of his nemeses, “Should I thank you for all the presents your castle has given me?”

“Oh no, those brats are completely unrelated to me. They might walk a little faster or farther than most, but they are still snake-slaves,” Soremburg waved it off, “I have no idea what they are doing, nor do I have any interest in their little tricks. As the lord of the reapers, I am the first great miracle in all of history, and as someone who managed to bring Faust here and stand before me, you are the second. You have the right to work with me; let us set out to do something that has never been done before!”

Richard pointed at the brain in the tube and sneered, “You mean getting to this state?”

Soremburg laughed with a charm that even Richard had to admit he was inferiority to, “The value of life is not in its appearance, but in its soul. I only keep my brain here for commemoration.”

"Commemoration?"

“Yes. I was once a human, even if that doesn’t matter now. I am a demon to the abyss, an elf to the trees. When you look at me, I remain human. I can be any race, but in reality I belong to none.”

“But I’m a human through and through,” Richard sneered.

“Is that so?” Soremburg smiled like an elder facing a wilful child, “Let me see what the core of your existence truly is.”

Richard suddenly felt violated as the Scholar’s gaze swept across him. Grunting, he raised his brows, “You have truesight as well?”

"Truesight isn’t a singular blessing, dear Richard. The true value in your body is that archlord’s heart, and your soul with the… that is billions! This is captivating, you truly deserve to be called a great miracle. I’m convinced, you qualify to explore the new world with me."