“How long has it been?” the titan thundered, smiling and stopping just shy of Mark’s spear. “How long since I’ve last met a mortal with the modicum of determination necessary to even try standing up to me? What is your name, human?”
Underneath the piercing gaze of the bronze behemoth, Mark felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. Every fiber of his body quaked at the prospect of being snapped in half by the three-meter-tall giant. However, the metal titan simply awaited his reply, as still as a stone and just as silent.
“Mark,” he answered quietly as his heart raced, hoping against hope that the statuesque being would remain motionless.
The titan’s bronze lips twisted into a slight grin, sending a shiver down his spine. “I commend you for your bravery, Mark! I was once a man such as yourself. And although my mortal name has long since lost itself within the eternal Flow, you may call me Aernor should you choose to do so.”
“W-what are you, then? A god?” Mark stuttered, unable to process the very idea that the being in front of him was once a mortal.
“I have been called many things throughout the eons, both by those I sought to protect, and by those I once called kin.”
Aernor frowned and turned away, pacing around the barren battlefield while Mark could only stare agape, almost dropping the spear he held.
“The Herald of Sorrow,” the titan sighed, the mere act enough to make even the air inside Mark’s lungs vibrate. “They actually went so far as to call me the Bringer of Despair… But yes, going by your kind’s definition, I suppose I am a demigod.”
“I… I see,” Mark said quietly as the vision of his body, shattered and mangled underneath that steel beam, returned. He shuddered and looked around the desolate battlefield before turning his eyes towards his chest. Despite Aernor having pierced his chest with his hand before, Mark couldn’t see a single scratch. Not even a hole in his shirt. “Where are we?” he asked, working up his courage. “Am I dead?”
“Enough questions,” Aernor returned as he finally stopped pacing. “Should you manage to land a single blow on me, I will answer you. Do it within ten-thousand tries,” the demigod grinned, “and I’ll grant you one more boon.”
“W-wait,” Mark mumbled, utterly terrified by the facsimile of joy etched onto the titan’s metallic countenance. “What do you mean, ten thousand–”
But before he could even finish, Aernor stepped forward and snapped his fingers.
The resulting shockwave bowled Mark to the ground, the spear in his hand rattling off to the side. Ears ringing, he coughed and raised his head. He paled as he saw the bronze titan charging towards him, the earth itself vibrating with each of the demigod’s steps. Fear flooded his mind, causing Mark to freeze up for a second before he rolled out of the way, right as Aernor’s armored sabaton smashed down.
Crawling back, Mark’s hand brushed over the spear’s shaft. He grabbed it and used it to hoist himself up, his gaze never leaving that of the metallic titan. Aernor grinned, taking his time to pull his foot free as chunks of rocks tumbled to the side.
Mark clutched the spear tightly, his eyes still glued to the crater where his head had just been a mere moment ago. And when he finally raised his gaze, he only saw a blur. The behemoth appeared right next to him, his leg raised and cocked back.
All sensations left Mark, a complete numbness overtaking him as he tried to jump back, but his body seemed frozen in time as the flash of bronze slammed through the spear in his hands and into his side.
The world around Mark spun, his broken body hurtling through the air. Another jolt of agony rattled through his mangled flesh as he crashed into the ground, knocking loose several of the ancient weapons that littered the abandoned battlefield.
Somehow still conscious, Mark stared at the approaching titan, struggling to keep his eyes open as the once merciful numbness began to subside. Wave upon wave of pain ripped through his body. But his tears refused to flow despite it all. He gasped and coughed, a mute cry leaving his lips the instant he tried to breathe. ‘Why…?’ he mouthed silently.
“Again,” Aernor’s voice thundered as Mark’s vision darkened, that familiar feeling of cool relief washing over him.
His lids jerked open. And as the bronze behemoth’s unearthly gaze found his again, Mark stepped back, his hand brushing against the same spear that the demigod had just shattered.
At that moment, something within Mark clicked. Something terrifying.
There was no escaping this madness. Not unless the being in front of him willed it. For as long as Aernor was not satisfied with the result, he would continue to inflict this endless chain of suffering upon Mark.
Mark bit down, desperate to stop his teeth from chattering as he raised the rusty tip of his spear towards the metal titan. Upon seeing this, that same look of long-lost joy flashed across the behemoth’s face.
“Think, Mark, think,” he muttered as he watched Aernor approach him. He couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t even withstand a single hit. And as for the odds of him actually managing to outsmart an ageless personification of war, the likelihood of Aernor growing bored and letting him go were infinitely greater.
His only chance was to hope for a lucky hit…
A single blink was all it took for the titan to simply vanish and reappear in front of Mark. Panicking, he thrust his spear forward. But with an eerie grace, Aernor leaned to the side, just enough for him to miss his target. Mark jumped back, shutting his eyes and bracing himself for another bone-crushing blow. However, none came.
The bronze behemoth circled Mark from a distance, observing his every move. Was the titan waiting for him to make a move? Ignoring all of his instincts that yelled at him to flee, Mark played along and rushed in. He swung for Aernor’s legs and missed again. But this time, the demigod sidestepped and came close enough for Mark to feel the heat radiating off of the titan’s skin.
Adrenaline surged through Mark’s body as he leaped back, somehow avoiding a strike aimed at his head. Although, the resulting gust of wind almost knocked him down. He steadied himself, but something was off.
Was Aernor getting slower…?
Given his previous speed, there was no way the titan could have missed him. Could Aernor only move at those ridiculous speeds in short bursts? Or was there some other rule to his abilities?
‘Let’s give this a shot.’
Inhaling, Mark tightened his grip, the spear’s shaft creaking beneath his whitened knuckles. Several quick jabs zipped towards Aernor’s chest, almost grazing the titan’s skin. But the demigod continued to dance around his attacks, always lingering just outside of Mark’s reach.
He grit his teeth and held his breath, pushing through the burning ache of his muscles, all in the hope of at least touching the titan. But the instant Mark relented, Aernor immediately stepped into range, striking his open-hand into Mark’s head.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
With a sickening squelch, he felt his spine crack as his head snapped back. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move. He could only hold on through the torrent of pain and misery.
“Again,” said Aernor.
Mark’s heart raced inside his chest as the darkness gave way and Aernor’s barren world reset once more around him. He gasped and trembled, bringing his hands up to his neck.
Upon seeing the titan’s wide grin, a shiver raced down Mark’s back. ‘He’s just playing with me…!’
“Why?” Mark asked, the word no more than a whisper. “Why are you doing this? Are you really this bored?!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice giving out and fading into the desolate expanse of the darkened field around them.
For a brief second, Aernor stopped, his expression darkening as his eyes narrowed into a frightening glare. “I’m only doing that which needs to be done. Now, FIGHT!” the titan yelled and charged as thunderclaps trailed his every step. And before Mark could even react, the bronze behemoth’s arm had already impaled him again, lifting him up and throwing him to the side like a broken toy.
Any hint of the demigod’s hesitation had disappeared entirely. With swift brutality, Aernor leaped into the sky, pulverizing Mark and the whole area on impact.
Again, the world around him reset as Mark fell to his knees, quivering fingers clawing at the cracked earth before his head jerked upright. But he couldn’t see anything near that solitary campfire. Still shivering, Mark got up and ran. He raced into the darkness, but regardless of how far away he got from those crackling flames, he couldn’t find anything else than that god forsaken battlefield.
He ran for what seemed like hours before collapsing next to a large shield jutting out of the ground. But despite having run all the way here, he wasn’t out of breath. He hadn’t even worked up a sweat.
Mark sighed and closed his eyes, still hoping that the nightmare would soon end. But the moment his lids parted, soul-searing terror raced through Mark as he found himself staring at a giant sword. And on the opposite end of the blade’s tip was Aernor. The demigod glared at him with a vicious, bloodthirsty glee, all semblance of sanity and rationality gone from his face.
Over and over, Mark found himself back in front of that damned campfire. Always shivering. Always remembering his last death. It hadn’t taken long for him to completely lose track of the number of times that the crazed titan had killed him.
Once more he came to, his arms shooting up to guard his head as he remembered the titan rolling a giant boulder towards him, crushing him inch by agonizing inch, only for Aernor to already be standing above him, that same bloody boulder clutched between his hands.
“Please, Aernor! I’m begging you… STOP!” Mark cried and sobbed, holding his trembling hands above his head. The moment stretched into infinity as he stood there with his eyes shut, shivering and waiting. But as the chill in his body subsided, he dared a peak.
The boulder had vanished and Aernor was down on his knees, staring straight at Mark. Never could he have ever imagined the titan’s eyes capable of such a sad expression. The glowing amber voids flickering wildly as streaks of magma rolled down the Aernor’s bronze cheeks, his maddened rage forgotten.
“I… What have I done?” he asked, his gaze finally meeting Mark’s. A look of… fear flashed across the titan’s face as he raised a shaking hand towards Mark.
Instinctively, Mark retreated, stumbling and falling on his back.
Seeing this, Aernor slumping down in front of him. “I… I’m sorry,” the demigod said as his tears of magma darkened to stone. “Twice thus far have I succumbed to this cursed power, giving it dominion over myself. And thrice I have failed… Those dearest to me. The lesser planes. And now you…”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Mark asked, the existential dread that had ruled over every part of his being up until now finally giving way. “Cursed power? Lesser planes?! Do you actually plan on explaining things properly…?”
“Alright,” Aernor sighed, his reply taking Mark by surprise, as the titan got up and stared at the surreal sky above. “I suppose I owe you that.”
Burning veins pulsed beneath the demigod’s bronze skin before the world around them changed, the empty battlefield coming to life. Specters of the past rose up as men and beasts fought below a horizon dominated by a castle larger than the tallest mountain. Its dark, shimmering spires pierced the heavens, forming glowing seals that rained monsters and hellfire upon the land. And right in front of them, leading a group of four other champions, stood a young Aernor.
Legions of monsters descended upon the group of warriors, frantically offering their blood in a desperate attempt to drive the five of them back. “When the world needed us most,” the titan began as he and Mark looked on, “we heeded the call. And in turn, our gods granted us enough power to vanquish our foes, more power than we could have ever hoped for.”
Aernor frowned while they both watched his former self lay waste to hordes of creatures, bathing blissfully in their blood. But upon slaying the last of the monsters surrounding them, he did not stop. Instead, he charges his allies, slaughtering countless knights and footmen until one of the other four, a tall, silver knight, knocked him to the ground and screamed: ‘Please, Aernor… I’m begging you! Stop!’
“The gods held up their end of the bargain,” Aernor scowled as he looked at the horrified expression on the face of his former self. “They gave the five of us their power and disappeared. Enough power for us to lose our minds. Every moment since, we’ve struggled and wrestled to keep these dark impulses we were so lovingly gifted in check. And until today, I have never again lost sight of myself… But the other four were far less lucky.”
Mark looked up in silence, waiting for the demigod to continue.
“This power slowly twists not just your body, but your mind as well,” Aernor sighed as the silhouettes of the other four demigods warped and grew. “The changes were gradual. Enough to go unnoticed. And when I tried to warn them, they just brushed me off. Eons passed, and when I could no longer recognize a single trace of those that were once my friends, I confronted them to put an end to this insanity. But I couldn’t overpower all four of them myself. They banished me here, dooming me to just sit idly by and watch as they plunged world after world into darkness and despair.”
The shapes around them faded as the two of them were back in front of the lonely campfire.
“But why would they do that? And what does all of that have to do with me?” Mark asked, his anger waning, yet not entirely gone.
With a wave of his hand, Aernor summoned a myriad of lights around them. “The stronger the emotions of the mortals that worship them, the stronger the power grows,” he said, conjuring up the distant image of a planet. “Although, after a certain point, I imagine that they’ve started to grow just as tired of this charade as the very monsters that came before us. But as long as I’m imprisoned here, there is little I can do…”
“And that’s where I come in?” Mark asked as the titan nodded. “Try to bust you out?”
Aernor kneeled in front of Mark, the bronze behemoth somehow still towering above him. “No, Mark. I need you to be my champion… I need you to help me save the worlds they’ve yet to doom.”
“Right…” Mark glared, narrowing his eyes at the dejected titan. “That totally explains why you decided to kill me a thousand times over instead of just talking to me.”
“I apologize,” Aernor sighed, lowering his head. “I lost myself to my rage. But that is precisely why I needed to test you… For a mortal to be able to withstand even a fragment of my power, they need to possess a will of steel. A determination strong enough so as to not lose themselves in the face of this… cancer.”
“The same power that corrupted your very mind? You want to give me that power?!”
The titan’s face darkened once more. “People can overcome almost anything with just a shred of hope. True determination, however, the determination necessary to push through even in the absence of hope, is something far rarer.”
“Right,” Mark sighed as he slumped down, exhausted. “And you’re saying I have what it takes?” He watched Aernor slowly nod before he shifted his attention towards the sky. “So, then, I really am dead,” he said, still hesitating to put it into words despite everything.
“In a way, yes,” the titan answered, joining Mark as he also turned towards the stars above. “But I do have the power to resurrect your soul and send you to Kallabor… a dying world in need of aid.”
“Are you sure there’s no one else?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know,” said Aernor. “Throughout the years, I’ve sent many to their deaths in the hope of finally putting an end to everything. But I’ve yet to see someone with a spark quite like yours.”
Upon hearing the titan’s words, Mark pursed his lips and groaned. “Okay, okay… And how would this even work? You just give me some of your power and then whisk me off to wherever this… Kallabor is?”
“Not necessarily,” said Aernor. “I will do my best to train your mind before you have to set out on your journey. But your soul won’t last much longer here within this mindscape. And we can’t risk the other four learning of your existence before I even get the chance to resurrect you.”
Mark fell silent for a moment, his eyes transfixed on the countless specks of light dotting the night sky as he sat there next to the motionless titan.
“Okay,” Mark sighed. “I’ve already died a thousand times. What’s a few more?”
A small smile etched itself onto Aernor’s lips. But the demigod’s eyes soon widened with panic as the battlefield around them shimmered with light.
“No,” the titan whispered, “they’re coming!”. He quickly placed his hand on Mark’s chest as the veins of molten lava beneath his skin flared up.
Searing pain enveloped Mark’s very existence as the blood within him began to boil. Darkness swallowed him as radiant, crimson letters spelt a message in the corner of his vision.
Obtained [Aernor’s Blood (Passive)].