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Chapter 7

Screams. From the dark eagle soaring above, from the undead that would never find peace with their souls, and in his heart. Screams of pain. Anger. Screams when one’s pride is wounded deeply, when one’s heart of ambition is pierced, when deep scarlet blood flows into the ground.

Raccious sat on the ground, in the middle of the long deserted cemetery. He had been defeated, found by some random passerby, and healed. Although that Chosen…What was his name…Laran, had also faced the prospect of death, he still survived longer in the fight. Laran was the last man standing.

Damn. He was supposed to be the heir to the long line of necromancers in his family. The last 5 generations of his family all consisted of great necromancers. They had all contributed to Earth. He knew he was a Chosen, and that even more was expected of him. Pura had personally informed him of that. She had also given him a piece of information that haunted him to this day, forming the very reason why he believed he existed for.

He had been training non-stop for the last 3 years. While others preferred to take a more standard path under Necromancer Instructors, he had trained on his lonesome, coming up with original techniques. Another added benefit was that he was more in touch with his natural element. The darkness. He could call on a large number of skeletons, undead, and creatures of the dark in general.

His main problem was that he was too complacent. Even he knew that that was his hamartia, his tragic flaw. He always got too caught up in the battle. It was like he was being possessed by someone…or something.

He shook the thought off. He would have to concentrate on training. Defense in particular. He drew out his wand. “Synchro rate is at 20% huh…” he thought. He would get it up to 25% by the end of the night. Him and Venom would achieve it.

“Consume the living. Venom!” Raccious called out, transforming his wand into a Onyx-coloured staff, with a diamond orb at the very top. Venom was a top-quality spirit, one that had been passed down in his family for many generations.

“Spar with me.” He summoned a pack of zombie wolves. They rose out from the ground, crackling with dark arcane energy that surged through their fangs. Sensing that there was blood to be drank, they snarled, acid saliva dribbling down their chin.

5 on 1. Easy.

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“I’m gonna teach you something that’s gonna boost your power exponentially if you know how to use it. Fuse that uprade core into your sword please.” Xenious spoke.

The atmosphere was very relaxing, the air was humid and the sky was coloured a delicate shade of blue. There was a rainforest off in the distance, and the waterfall in front of them beat and churned the water that flowed in a river.

Laran started the process. He had much experience fusing upgrade cores ever since he left Panon, but this was extremely difficult. The soul at first refused to go into the sword, fighting back against Laran’s arcane energy. It kicked and floated, fighting against the push of Laran’s arcane energy. The thing had a mind of its own.

Xenious had been studying Laran. When Laran finally finished the process, the sword exploded in white light. It shimmered and shone, before looking exactly as it had been before.

“Your spirit seems to be a stubborn one. I’ve never seen a spirit fight with such tenacity against it’s soon to be master. Cut your finger and let the blood drip onto the sword.”

Laran winced slightly as he bit into his thumb. He let a single drip of blood fall onto the sword.

*Drips*

The sword glowed red this time, but almost instantly it reverted to original. Except that there were now runic inscriptions running along the middle of his sword.

“You are now linked and ready to synchro.” Xenious grinned.

Before Laran could ask what in the word he was linked to, a voice sounded in his head. It was deep, tainted with the scars of pain. Laran sensed that the spirit was an old one.

“Yet again. I have been summoned yet again. To roam the earth for all time, that is the punishment for my sin. And I have to answer to snot-nosed kids like you.” The spirit growled unpleasantly.

Laran retorted out loud, “I’m not a snot-nosed kid!” without realizing it.

Xenious snorted in amusement, “More like a snot-mouthed kid. After you defiled my pillow, the river continued to my bed! Now I have to get new bedsheets as well!”

Laran shut his mouth hastily. If he did that in public, people would probably think that he went mad.

He conversed with the spirit. “Watch your mouth! I’m a Chosen!”

“Oh drool on me! Now that we’re linked I can access your previous memories. And boy are they messed up. But there seems to be a certain mist when I attempt to prod deeper…hmm…amnesia?” Laran could feel the spirit poking around inside his head.

“Shoo! Mind your own business!” Laran swatted his own head in a futile attempt to shake the spirit.

“Say pleeaaseee.” The spirit sang cheekily.

Laran was pissed. It turns out that although the spirit was experienced, it also took on the personality of a retard.

“Fine. Please.” Laran talked to the spirit nicely.

Instantly Laran felt the spirit calm down, from a rapid prodding of his mind to a slow, relaxed swirling.

“Alright. Time for you two to synchro. Just try to embrace each other’s soul, you two should share the same body, same stream of consciousness…same life.”

Laran relaxed himself, giving the spirit more free reign. The sword was his connection between the spirit and himself, and he gripped it tightly, holding onto that connection with an iron vicegrip.

What is your name…he asked himself, the spirit in particular.

The pain of living…I have faced many trials…Just call me Rejection…The spirit had returned to its calm composed mood.

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Xenious watched. He was immensely interested in how the Chosen would be able to synchro with his weapon. Usually, the person would call out the name of the spirit residing within his weapon when activating synchro mode. With a higher level on synchronization, the person would be able to allow his or her movements to flow fluidly with the spirit, drastically increasing his or her combat prowess.

Tiny rocks started floating around Laran, a testament to the arcane energy he was using to synchro. There was a faint rumbling in the ground under Laran, it seemed as if a minor earthquake was occurring.

“Let your tears streak the sky! Rejection!” Laran bellowed. He slammed his sword into the ground and let his arcane energy explode. A flash of white light covered a radius of an entire mile, and Xenious had to frantically shield his eyes before he got blinded.

When the light faded, Xenious opened his eyes eagerly. And there stood Laran.

Everything about him seemed the same, yet there was definitely something different. An explicit difference was that now there was a faint aura around him, and that the sword had morphed. It was now glowing slightly cobalt, with the same skull hilt, and now it had shrunk to the shape of a one-handed sword.

Laran inspected the sword with much interest. The weight became lighter, but the speed to power ratio had actually increased. (This means that while the sword got lighter, the power increased). No. The sword wasn’t the correct term. Rejection was.

It turned out that synchronizing with Rejection also gave Laran a calmer state of mind. It was as if an encyclopedia of ancient knowledge and skills had been crammed into his head, and the sudden influx of information and knowledge had allowed him to transcend his state of being. He not only felt more powerful physically, but also spiritually. The cut on his finger had also healed when he synchronized.

He happened to notice a small hologram-like meter floating above Rejection. The meter was only slightly filled from the bottom.

“That's the synchronization meter, Right now, you have synchronized only 5% with your sword. Basically, as you get closer to Rejection and fight more battles with it, your meter will increase when you decide to go into synchro mode.”

“Try going into the rainforest to test your new abilities. I’l be waiting here for you when you are done.” Xenious instructed Laran before heading towards the waterfall.

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“I sense that there is a strange stirring in the world! The EXs have been restless. Some have even emerged from the underground cavern!” Kingsley spoke urgently.

His voice echoed throughout the grand hall in which they were all in. They were in the Kingdom, the place where all the gods lived. There, the air was fresh, the weather cooling, and buying property had an awesome system of 1% downpayment. Everyone was happy, except for the poor property agents who had to chase after their buyers for the payment. They were in a room. It was painted completely white, with a few pieces of furniture, giving it a rather barren look. There was a gigantic hardwood table, with numerous chairs propped around it. The people at the table comprised of all the gods. Minor, Important etc, all the gods were there. Except one.

“Where exactly is Dura!?” Kingsley questioned.

Everyone around the impressive round table muttered to each other. No one was completely sure of where she was. A few lost souls looked around, confused, before making a little noise to give the impression that they were actually discussing something.

Kingsley sighed. Although they were all gods, they had to settle this the old-fashioned way.

“Alright, alright. Everyone, write any information you have heard recently about Dura on the piece of paper.”

The piece of paper was slowly passed around the table. Everyone scribbled what little they had to contribute before passing it.

Half an hour passed, as the gods waited impatiently for their turn. It was a big table.

Finally, the paper reached Kingsley. As he prepared to read aloud the rumours, he heard a loud clattering noise that no doubt belonged to them.

“Damn you medieval knights, stop making so much noise in your armour!” Kingsley yelled at the group of knights unhappily.

The leader of the knights slid down his helmet to reveal himself as King Arthur.

“Well, the grand hall is the only place that actually leads to a functioning bathroom! We are having enough trouble finding a hole in our armour to carry out our business already! Whats up with your attitude! First you steal our patented round table, then you make a fuss out of our attire!” Arthur complained, as his knights booed the gods.

The gods booed them back.

*After some time*

Kingsley cleared his throat. Nothing to warm himself up like a session of childish debating against the knights of Camelot.

“Ok, I will now read out the ideas regarding Dura’s disappearance. Firstly…wait, who the heck wrote KIA?”

Silence ensued.

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Crickets chirped, leaves rustled and the shadow cast by the canopy layer of trees loomed over every creature in the tropical rainforest.

Somewhere in a deep cavern, a spider spun its web swiftly, with the grace of a gymnast and with the skill of a craftsman. Before long, an unsuspecting fly flew into the near-invisible web, getting stuck in the process.

The spider, sensing that its prey was now trapped, eagerly made its way towards the fly. The fly struggled and squirmed, trying to break loose of the thickly bound strands that bound it to the web. As the spider approached, the fly struggled even more furiously. Its efforts were futile, as the spider leapt onto the prey, biting deep into its flesh. The venom seeped into the wound, numbing it. The spider immediately went into action, spinning a dense web to completely restrict the fly’s movements.

This was the natural process of predator and prey. Except that the spider could hardly be considered a spider. It had 10 legs, each as thick and powerful as a tree branch. Bits and pieces of steel daggers were attached to the spider’s limbs, giving the impression that it was more artificial than natural. It had 8 eyes, and all of them were large and beady, presumably giving it better vision. Its fangs were as huge as elephant tusks, and they hung outside of the spider’s mouth, with venomous liquid slithering down. They were sharp like razor blades, and could easily tear human flesh to shreds. A single strike would be fatal.

The mutant spider, after carefully wrapping up its tiny meal, retreated into the darkness, ready to strike in an instant. It was almost invisible in its element.
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“Become one with your sword. That is all.” Xenious had said, sending him on his way. Xenious wanted Laran to train himself and achieve better synchronization before personally teaching him. As such, Laran was now roaming about inside the gigantic tropical forest, looking for enemies to train on.

So far, all he had encountered was a pack of ordinary wolves. They certainly were rather weak, as Laran dispatched of them in a few strikes. Laran wanted something more challenging, something that would force him to activate synchro mode.

“ROAR!!!” came a sound from nearby. Laran was immediately alerted, slowly twisting in a circle. He had absolutely no idea where an attack could come from.

“Die, Human.” A deep voice rang out, before a majestic rain tree was shredded to pieces by a lunar shaped spear. The silhouette of a huge beast towered high above him.

“Oh shiiiiiiiiiiii…” Laran didn’t have time to finish his sentence, as a Tauromacis tore through the tree like a rhino, with his trident pointed straight at Laran. It had a silvery mask of solid titanium, its neck bulged with veins and its horns were a deep orange.

Laran rolled out of the way just in time, right as the Tauromacis charged past. The Tauromacis’ speed was astounding. Laran examined it hastily.

It was easily 3 times his height, with muscles that threatened to rip apart the leather buckle that held its bare armour together. Its body structure was similar to a human, if the human was the child of a wrestling superstar and an Olympic sprinter. Oh, and if it took steroids from the day it was born. Although Tauromacis were known to possess limited intelligence, their brute force battle prowess more than made them worthy soldiers.

The minotaur smashed apart trees and boulders before it skidded to a halt. It approached Laran with haste, swinging his spear at Laran with the effort an elephant took to crush a dog.

Laran did a direct counter-attack, stopping the spear with Rejection. Although the Tauromacis was not even using its full strength, Laran struggled to match the creature’s attack.

The Tauromacis seemed surprised, letting its guard down for a second. Laran saw the creature’s muscles relax for a second, signifying that it was taken aback. He set his left foot forward, and pivoted around it, swinging his sword as he would swing an axe.

The keen blade bit deeply into the Tauromacis’ tendon on its right leg. It roared with anger, and Laran was rocked by the sheer shockwaves that vibrated through his body.

Laran grimaced. Even Rejection was unable to sever its leg. The Tauromacis’ flesh was like it was made of iron. Laran whirled around, trying to cut into its other leg.

However, the Tauromacis had learnt its lesson. Its right leg jerked backwards, slamming into Laran before he could attack.

His saliva flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to realize what was happening. His back collided full-force with a particularly thick tree, temporarily paralyzing him. He felt like he had been hit by a runaway train.

“What are you waiting for? Get up!” Rejection sounded from within Laran’s mind. He quickly pulled himself up, wincing as his body ached and protested.

“Let your tears streak the sky. Rejection!” Laran transformed into Synchronization mode in a flash. The adrenaline rush numbed the pain he felt, and he felt a rush of euphoria. At the same time, he was incredibly calm. The opposing forces were like identical waves crashing into each other from both directions, before settling slowly. His senses were augmented greatly, giving him a somewhat limited 360 degree sixth sense.

He noticed that the meter read 10% synchronization. He had achieved 15% through his meditations and training, but his stamina went down dramatically whenever he pushed himself to that level. His stamina and arcane pool increased proportionally to the synchronization as he shared his body with Rejection. Which meant one thing.

“Terran!” Laran activated his Terran eyes. He dashed towards the Tauromacis speedily. It roared and released a single thunder strike from its spear. With his Terran eyes activated, Laran could see clearly the path of the projectile.

Dodging with ease, he was almost directly in front of the Tauromacis. “Tempest Slash!” the razor-sharp wave of arcane energy targeted the Tauromacis’ mask. The beast raised his crescent mooned spear, deflecting the blow. It snorted in pleasure. And then blood spurted out from the back of its legs, causing the Tauromacis to collapse heavily onto its knees.

Laran had used that technique as a distraction, hastily dealing severe damage to the Tauromacis’ legs. Rejection surged with arcane energy, before releasing yet another Tempest Slash. The Tauromacis twisted around labouredly, lifting its spear again. As the Slash collided head-on with the spear, Laran simultaneously appeared behind the Tauromacis. To the naked eye, it would seem that Laran teleported, however, he was just moving at an amazing speed.

With all his strength, Laran thrusted Rejection directly into the Tauromacis’ spine. Rejection passed through thick flesh, before reaching the spine. For a split moment, Laran panicked, afraid that he would be unable to succeed in his attempt. Then, there was a sickening “CRUNCH”, as Rejection violently sliced through the Tauromacis’ spine, sliding fluidly through the rest of the flesh. The tip of Rejection peeked through the Tauromacis’ chest.

There was a lowly growl from the Tauromacis, as its entire body tensed…and relaxed as it embraced death. Laran withdrew Rejection, before cleaning the blood-stained sword on the grass. He took a deep breath and looked at the corpse. What was a Tauromacis doing in the middle of a rainforest?

“Not bad.” A voice whispered quietly. Laran snapped to attention, looking up just as a hooded figure stepped into the clearing.

Laran took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Another opponent?