Mt. Ohm - God Slayer - K. van Marshall (books recommended by bts txt) 📗

at the two with pure admiration. In a time when he was unsure, another moment of self doubt, just when the beasts were about to submerge his subconscious in bloodlust - his loved ones dragged him from the rivers of regret.

 

Niisarm is the best, these two, my closest nakama have just blown all my worries away. “Thank you…”, a smile grew across Zweek's face. “Okay, we do this, again we wait for our moment and strike”, he said, confidence renewed.

 

“Have you lot gone soft in the head?”, said Corve. Having woke moments before Zweek, he was still in a foul mood.

 

“What’s the problem Corve?”, asked Zweek, looking into the green undertone of Corve skin. Originally, Corve woke during transportation to the ship and proceeded to kick up a fuss - only to be rendered unconscious, again.

 

“Weeeeell, about striking part”, squirmed Xena.

 

“What?”, quizzed Zweek.

 

“These brands can be used to turn us to beached fish”, answered Stow, holding in a chuckle with sly smile; Corve's scream was hilarious to him.

 

Zweek thought for a second before replying, although this information was new to him, it was not outside his minds scope to think in such circumstances. “No difference, the plans the same, they don’t know what’s on Mt. Ohm, no one does, sprigger training taught us that, right?”, said Zweek, confidence still bold.

 

“That’s why it's so random”, said Xena.

 

“Exactly Xen, they have no clue, so there will be a moment. We just have to be ready”, said Zweek, turning to Corve. “We don’t have many options, what do you say?”.

 

“Whatever”, replied Corve, before spinning his head into the lap of his willing nurse. “If becoming a god was so easy the whole world wouldn’t be such a mess”.

 

Zweek stood to look out the port hole again, this time with a calm heart, new resolve and a hint of reservation. Corve is right getting to Mt. Ohm does not guarantee immortality. We could equally die if the training of the Drill is to be trusted, but this gamble is all we have left. And all I have left in front of me to protect now are Stow and Xena... we will become Gods and destroy Youllo.

Chapter 12 - Curiosity

 Returning home after the Urha, is always joyous occasion; a hail of love and streams of blessings, followed by fireworks as the whole city greets the returning sons and daughters; the latest generation of Venzecan adults.

 

For Els, her returning Urha was very different, the greeting they returned to was more fitting for an apocalypse. From this distance they should be able to see the path towers in all their glory. They usually dominate the skyline, but only a single tower stood - alone and barely visible amongst the roaming smoke. Even more astounding was the huge chunk of the northern wall, including the entire north gate, had disappeared completely - replaced with charred wood and smouldering debris.

 

 

With the light of the furthest sun, Saitama, yet to set; a dim green light tinted the darkened landscape. During this stretch of the cycle through the trinery system, much of Gaiterra’s surface never truly saw the pitch black of night; a blessing from an ancient god. The low light coupled with the huge line of destruction that lay before the group of returnees had been a great help. Mysteriously, a path straight into the heart of the jungle had been swept clean. Having caught up to Judor and the rest, Els skulked at the back of the group cautiously analysing and gob-smacked by the damage; the whole group stumbled through the clearing in a daze.

 

Whatever made this, must be what flung us from the tree tops earlier, thought Els, trying to make sense of the scene. Whatever destroyed the compound of tree and stone walls of Lonston must have been demonic.

 

As she calmed her mind, something deep in Els soul began to ring as she realised the sounds of battle had gone, Lonston was deadly quiet. Els closed her eyes and reached out with her soul, searching for the light emitted by aura. Knowing it was pointless, she was too far, but tried anyway.

 

First, she thrust her soul straight as an arrow, directing her mind's eye as far into Lonston as possible - her formidable omnipsy flew a mile in second, and found nothing. Yanking her kirah back to her centre, she took a deep breathe then let her psychic wave explode in all directions; determined to find something. Immediately the second wave of her radar like sense pinged off of a foreign energy, something she had never felt before.

 

That is strong, what could it be? Slowing down and slipping into the shadows, she nimbly made her way into the jungle without saying a word. Els had to see what it was, and Judor would definitely try to stop her. It's better for everyone else to continue to Lonston, she thought, bouncing through the wilds.

 

For Els, her curiosity was a sign of intelligence, she believed it was always better to know then not, and whatever she felt in the jungle was peculiar, maybe even dangerous.

 

As she strayed from the clearing and further into the untouched jungle the darkness grew; tall jungle trees blocked out the last strands of Saitama’s glow. Before long, all beams of light were shunned from the jungle floor, leaving Els stumbling in complete darkness; only the painful prick of sorrowful energy as her guide. Just as the darkness became overwhelming, a purple light pierced her retinas. Suddenly, Els did not have to use her ominsense to navigate the hazardous jungle.

 

Picking up pace, eventually she bounced through a bunch of thick bushes into another clearing. A shaft of green night light illuminates the round clearing, highlighting the burning sphere nesting at the centre. The purple ball of fire bubbled and shone irrepressibly in the depth of the dark jungle.

 

This is it, what hateful energy. Standing close to the haunted dome, Els could smell only death and decay. No wonder we didn’t see many beasts in the dark, this thing’s a natural repellent.

 

The sphere stood twice her height and was made of pure purple fire. The mantric discharge expelled no heat, instead, sucking the life out of the surroundings.

 

Els studied the circumference, it seemed to be retracting slowly. Standing before the dome of hate, confirmed her suspicion; the energy was the result of a wicked mantra, but this was more than a simple curse.

 

It's a torquere, an akuma level spell. Whoever used this is evil, and wicked strong. Els stood puzzled, she had never seen a mantra so strong, yet the caster was nowhere to be felt. It would take a 50 maji and the chieftain or... An immortal to achieve this - this torquere it’s huge. The Alkemist of legend could do such things, but who and why would someone do this on Venzeca.

 

Just standing next to the torquere made chills run up Els spine, yet her curiosity had not had its fill. Knowing little, and suspecting the worst, still Els curiosity drew her closer to the fearsome flickering ball of fire. She could see something, alive and screaming within the mantra.

 

A twisted tormented figure slowly became visible through the purple blazing haze, something or one, was stuck inside the cell of malice.

 

With a deep breathe, she once again opened up her soul, stirring the kirah in her stomach - guiding it through her major qi points; Els ignited her soul. With her mind's eye open, a wobbling etheric blue eye, larger than her head manifests - hanging a few feet in front of her face. The mystic eye ignores the laws of nature, allowing wind and burning cinders to pass through without a blink. Eventually Els finely tuned the kirah into a perfectly symmetrical eye - the eyelashes flicker like candle flames, and an intricate geometrical pattern layering the iris forms; leaving a tiny gap for the pupil.

 

For those with knowledge of self, the imaginative energy kirah one can wield is greater than any sacred weapon created - the exquisitely elaborate eye built by Els was on par with legendary relics.

 

Clearing her thoughts, and focusing her consciousness into the projection, a brilliant bright blue energy gathers - then in a thin dense line the light bursts forth from the iris, pushing forcefully into the centre of the sphere; connecting with the soul trapped within.

 

In a blink, Els's ghostly blue form arrived in dark space bathed in a dim purple light. The space went so far, Els assumed it was infinite - at its centre, sat a meek, pale orange skinned boy. Knees scrunched up to his chest - a blood red, cold swamp swayed around his ankles. Wearing just shorts and a vest, he shivered while clutching at his sides - reaper like shadows disperse and reform in the shadows around him.

 

“Hey - hey kid”, said Els, her footsteps splashing in the thick red liquid as she heads towards the lonely child. “What’s your name?”, as she got closer the ground grew softer, and air colder.

 

Struggling, hip deep and now right in front of the boy, there was still no response. Els placed a hand onto his small shoulder. Opening his red cat like eyes wide, immediately he began to writhe and scream violently; as if her touch had released all his anguish. The raw emotions of the boy reacted, pouring into Els. In an instant, an array of emotions: regret, hate, revenge and love, all penetrated every part of her being. As the soured memories flowed out, washing over Els’s mind and soul, Els was yet to realise her curiosity had brought her to a place she may not survive.

 

I can't believe this, this existence, this apparition was the remnants of a demon - Javan, I think. Who did this to you? Why’s this torquere so powerful? This hellish mantra, since caught, he has been stuck in this storm. This is cruel, why did they not kill you, thought Els, her appetite for answers growing.

 

The torquere, twisted, and tore the entirety of Javan’s being, as chunks of red flesh fizzle away to nothing; before attempting to reform in the maelstrom of malice. Time within the mantra is slowed to seem as if it lasts for an eternity, in reality torqueres should only last for a moment, however, this one was different.

 

Delving deeper for answers she placed both hands on the face of the screaming boy - surfing the rapids of wild emotions - she peered deeply into his third eye. Instantly her soul was dissolved and sucked into the subconscious of Javan.

 

Els consciousness woke and found itself viewing vision after vision. Entering Javan's mind during his last moments, she was witnessing his life as it flashed before his eyes. Her mind was synchronising with Javan. Witnessing everything from his view point; feeling every touch and smelling every fragrance - she grasped every sensation deep in her core. It was a slippery slope, Els knew she should not dwell in the mind of Javan long, but she was intrigued. Having spent all her life in the southern isles, she had only heard rumours of the crazy mainlands. Javan's life was both