Omniphage of Apathy

The Business Hub of Rise was a mess.

Fires blazing in every direction, thick smoke choking the air and the lingering cries of terror long since silenced. The monsters, grotesque beings of twisted flesh and bone, moved like shadows in the darkness, their hollow eye sockets scanning every corner. They roamed through the ruins, sniffing the air for the faintest hint of their prey.

They were hunting Vastarael and Adelasta.

Vastarael pressed himself against a crumbling wall as he observed the nearest group of monsters. There were five of them, their claws scraping against the cobblestone street as they growled to one another. They were ugly creatures, their misshapen forms dripping with a dark, viscous liquid that hissed whenever it hit the ground.

He clutched his double-bladed glaive tightly. The weapon hummed with a low resonance, as if eager to taste blood. Vastarael's cloak was tattered, his white hair stained with soot and grime, but his focus never wavered.

He was their prey, but in the shadows, he was their predator.

One of the monsters stopped, its head jerking to the side as if sensing something. Its growl deepened but before it could alert the others, Vastarael moved.

He was a blur in the darkness. With a single leap, he closed the distance, his glaive slicing through the air. The sapphire blade hummed as it connected with the creature's neck, decapitating it in a single, clean motion. Black blood sprayed across the ground but Vastarael was already gone, his steps silent as he melted back into the shadows.

The other monsters turned, sniffing the air, their growls growing louder. They moved cautiously, their claws clicking against the stone, but they found nothing. Vastarael had vanished.

He crouched on a ledge above them, his golden eyes glowing as he observed their movements. When one of them strayed too far from the group, he struck again.

This time, he flipped forward from the ledge, the glaive spinning in his hands. He landed behind the creature, sweeping the weapon low to sever its legs at the knees. The monster howled in agony, but Vastarael silenced it with a swift upward strike, the blade driving through its skull.

Two down.

As the remaining three monsters grew agitated, Vastarael took the opportunity to carve a rune into the wall beside him using the quill from his mage book. His blue essence flowed from his fingers into the air, shaping the glowing symbols with practiced precision. The rune pulsed faintly before vanishing, its effect taking hold.

The rune was a simple one— the Rune of Silence. It dampened all sound within its radius, muffling even the loudest explosions. Vastarael had learned it from his father and it had become one of his most useful tools.

Especially when he talked to Phaenora in his room.

He moved quickly, etching another rune onto the ground. This one didn't have any effect but he had another purpose with it.

The monsters were growing frantic now, their growls turning to roars as they searched for the unseen threat. Vastarael used their confusion to his advantage, darting from debris to debris. Each time he moved, he drew another rune—on walls, on the ground, even on broken pieces of rubble. Each one was a step in his plan.

The runes and his speed were taking their toll. Vastarael could feel his essence draining rapidly, the blue light around his glaive dimming slightly. He gritted his teeth, his movements slowing for just a moment as fatigue threatened to overtake him. But then, he felt the familiar pull of his Omniphage ability.

The energy of the fallen monsters glowed faintly, drawn toward him like a magnet. The energy seeped into his body, replenishing his reserves. It wasn't pleasant through.

The essence of these creatures was dark and foul, tainted by whatever abyss they had crawled out of but... it was enough to keep him going.

"Not yet," he whispered to himself. "I can't stop now."

He ran away and continued doing the same. He didn't go to the location Opera wanted because he knew that the god hunting them definitely knew about it.

How can a god know they would be going to the Sky Gardens of Seraphei in the first place and hunt them there?

He was someone who had a connection in the palace. He didn't want to risk going to where Opera wanted him to go.

Of course, Opera wouldn't be the one hunting them. The woman was even more worried about them more than his mother was. And also...

All of his father's wives were obsessed with him. They wouldn't betray him.

It's not that he didn't trust her. He didn't trust the location she have him. Maybe that's where the god was because he couldn't sense him anywhere.

He was sure that the god was waiting for them in the location Opera marked for him on the map.

And so, he focused on drawing runes around the spire Adelasta was in. Thanks to Phaenora, he used the holographic map to mark out the places he would draw the runes for his grand plan.

One of the monsters finally caught sight of him while he was almost done.

It roared, its clawed hand slashing through the air as it charged. Vastarael dodged to the side, spinning his glaive to deflect the attack. Sparks flew as the blade met the creature's claws, the force of the impact sending a shockwave through the ground.

The other two monsters joined the fray, their hulking forms closing in on him. Vastarael's movements became a deadly dance, each strike of his glaive precise and calculated. He spun the weapon with incredible speed, the blades cutting through the air in blinding arcs.

He feinted left, drawing one of the creatures off balance, then pivoted to drive the blade into its chest. The monster shrieked as the weapon tore through its body, its dark blood spilling onto the ground. Vastarael twisted the glaive free and turned just in time to block an attack from the second creature.

The force of the blow sent him skidding backward, his boots carving a trench into the asphalt street. He planted the butt of his glaive into the ground to steady himself, his golden eyes narrowing as he assessed the remaining enemies.

His body was slowly absorbing the energy from the dead monster. As his body converted it into essence, it made him feel... slightly disgusted.

It felt like he was rejuvenating himself with muddy water and it wasn't a good feeling.

As the monsters regrouped, Vastarael glanced at a crumbling spire nearby. He had noticed earlier that its foundation was unstable, and now he had a plan. He darted toward it, his speed almost inhuman, and began carving another rune into its base.

This one was different— the Rune of Collapse. It was a high-level rune, one that required precise control and a significant amount of essence. Vastarael's hands moved quickly, the glowing symbols forming in the air as he worked.

The monsters were on him before he could finish. He spun to face them, his glaive a blur of motion as he fought them off.

Finally, the rune was complete. Vastarael slammed his palm against it, activating its power. The spire groaned and trembled, its weakened foundation giving way.

The structure collapsed in a massive explosion of rubble and dust, the shockwave knocking the monsters off their feet. Vastarael leapt clear of the debris, landing in a crouch as the spire crashed to the ground behind him.

The street was now a pile of smoking rubble and the monsters were buried beneath it. For the moment, the path was clear.

Vastarael stood, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His body ached, his essence nearly drained again, but he couldn't stop now. Adelasta was still unconscious and the god was still hunting them.

He tightened his grip on his glaive and took off again, disappearing into the darkness as the burning city raged around him. This wasn't over.

°°°°°°°

The god stood in the smoldering ruins of the grand plaza, his towering figure wrapped in a cloak of golden fire that pulsed with raw, divine energy.

His face was obscured by a mask carved from what looked like living obsidian, its surface shimmering with eerie patterns that constantly shifted and morphed. Hundreds of his monstrous creations encircled him, waiting for commands like statues carved from nightmares.

The god's voice cut through the chaos around him.

"Where are they?" He muttered, tapping his clawed fingers against the Maelisande Fountain. He glanced toward the horizon, his gaze piercing through the smoke and flame as though searching for someone.

"The boy and his little protector. They should have been here by now."

He paced slowly, his steps leaving molten imprints in the cobblestones beneath him.

"I gave them the perfect bait. A collapsed city, an inescapable barrier and a trail that only leads here. Yet... they do not come." His voice darkened, tinged with irritation. "Why? My subordinates told me that one of that Nexus's wives told them to come here."

The monsters didn't speak.

"This place and an emergency teleportation circle that would lead them to the palace. They destroyed the one in there and I did the same with the one here. But he couldn't have—"

One of the monsters, a creature with a serpent-like body and jagged, bone-like protrusions, shifted uneasily. The god's glowing eyes snapped to it, his fiery aura flaring slightly.

"You feel it too, don't you?" He asked, his tone almost mocking. "The deaths. My creatures are vanishing. One by one."

He tilted his head, his voice now thoughtful. "It is too clean, too calculated. Not the work of fear or desperation, but strategy. He is thinning your numbers, isn't he? Picking you off like pests."

A sharp, derisive laugh echoed from behind the mask. "Clever boy. He's smarter than he looks. Guess looks aren't the only things he has."

The god turned to the mass of monsters around him.

Do you know what this means? It means he is delaying. Running circles around you. Preparing for something."

The monsters remained silent, their grotesque faces staring at him. The god sighed in exaggerated disappointment.

"Of course, you don't know. You're mindless things, after all. But no matter. I know exactly what he's doing."

He began to pace again, speaking more to himself now, though his voice carried across the plaza.

"He seeks to draw me out. Distract me. Perhaps even isolate me. A bold tactic for someone so... young. But boldness without foresight is just foolishness. Does he think I can't sense him?"

The god raised one hand, the air around him shimmering as he concentrated. His power stretched out. Then he stopped, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

"Ah, there you are. So close, and yet you think you're unseen."

He turned back to the gathered monsters, his voice sharp now.

"Spread out. Search every shadow, every corner. Flush him out like the rat he is. Do not return until you bring me the boy. Or his lifeless body."

The creatures roared in unison, a cacophony of snarls and growls that shook the very ground. They scattered, their grotesque forms disappearing into the burning ruins as they obeyed the god's command.

The god watched them go, his masked face tilted upward as if savoring the chaos.

"Let's see how far your little plan takes you, Vastarael Richinaria," he mused aloud, his voice laced with anticipation. "You cannot outrun me forever."

And with that, he stood still, the plaza burning around him, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

Little did he know that what he was doing was exactly what he wanted.