Chapter 82 - General Zoroth
Standing by the foot of the colossal cyan-coloured bud was beginning to make Suta nauseous. He wasn't sure why, but he carried this fear that somehow, or someway, whatever was sleeping inside of that thing would awaken the moment he began drawing its power away. According to Zoroth, he only needed a fistful of mana trapped inside to turn on the dormant power faintly lingering through those large pipes connected at the top.
‘A fistful of mana, he says.’ Suta rehashed back to himself, staring at his open palm with an uncertain look. He already expected something troublesome to rear its head at him. But there was also a curious thought surrounding how he learned this so-called rare skill so quickly.
‘Suta, your body is too weird.' His only thought. Whoever this Raito Suta person was before he appeared, he was a boy with many secrets.
At this moment, Suta understood he would have to first leap into the untold sea of mysteries and deal with the consequences later. That had become his usual way of handling things since he arrived here, and for better or worse, it had kept him alive until now.
He exhaled a cool breath before shifting his gaze towards the cloudy dark smoke floating just to the side of him.
“How would I know when I've absorbed enough?” He muttered loud enough to be heard.
Zoroths chilling cackle replied from the side.
“When you’ve taken as much as you can hold.” The floating wisp said firmly.
Suta’s brows furrowed in response. All he seemed to be getting were riddles and half-answers. Without much else to deliberate on, he slowly placed his palm against the side of the glowing bud. It felt fleshy and somewhat human-like.
{Syphon}
A strange soft glow of red appeared beneath his palm—a sticky warmth immediately transferring what felt like warm blood through his arm. Suta’s eyes widened a little. Surprised by the strange sensation flowing through his fingers. As though many currents of water had begun traversing through the complex makeup of his body. He felt an odd fullness in his hand; by instinct, he drew his palm away and stared frighteningly at the fast-fading red smoke.
‘Syphon? Hehe, it’s kind of cool.’ An ugly smile creased against his boyish features. He turned expectantly to face the floating cloud of dark smoke hovering around him.
“Kukuku- good! Very Good!” Zoroth cackled in that same spine-tingling voice.
“Come, mana cannot exist too long in that state. We need to move quickly. Follow me... Mortal.” Suta sighed to himself. That villainous cackle was only making this whole ordeal that much more tense.
Suta followed the strange wisps lead. They ended up right back in the same room as before, with the noisy thick pipes above and the towering sealed door with a spiral in its middle. Compared to the other doors and rooms he had unwillingly discovered along this voyage, this felt twice as large as any others.
‘Feels like a doorway into somewhere else. I wonder what a door this size could be hiding.’
There had to be some reasoning for its mammoth size. Indeed, whoever made this place hadn’t done things out of hubris; the level of detail gone into this place, which he was assured was hidden deep underground, the surface was a marvel.
“So where am I supposed to be-”
Before he could finish his thoughts, he heard the clattering of metals behind him. Suta turned around. And a peculiar thing was taking place. Zoroth was hovering over the broken table filled with broken dials and countless faced-down switches. He heard a string of strange chants. Zoroth started murmuring something weird with its wispy voice. A bright violet light coated the entire metallic table, and before Suta’s watchful gaze, slowly, the broken debris started being pieced together again.
The entire process took a mere few minutes to complete. By the end of it, Suta also noticed Zoroth had become noticeably smaller in size. There was a faintness to the smokey darkness, fogged together like a beating dark heart of smoke.
“H-hey, are you okay?” he asked with a strange tone of concern. Zoroth had the real demeanour of some otherworldly mystery that should always be left alone, he thought. But the curious element of his very being had brought out an honest and somewhat childish reaction from Suta, torn between caution and intrigue.
“H-hey, what kind of power is that.” He asked, gesturing his finger ahead.
“Hm? Oh, this? Psionics! The last remnant of who I was...keh-heh still lingers. A drop of my bloodline is enough to effect change within this realm. Unfortunately, it bears the price of my lifespan. Tsk, what use does that even mean in this state.”
Suta’s wide gaze slowly lowered again. Regarding what Zoroth had told him about being locked in this prison underground for so many years. He asked himself What sort of world he could have seen all that time ago.
“Here, place your palm on the silver ball, yes, below that button over there. Yes, well done. Now, will the stored mana in your fist release the bound energy? But be very careful. Move it too quickly, and you may cause your arm to explode-“
“Wha-what did you just say?” Cried Suta alarmingly,
“Huahaha-don’t panic- it’s okay. The spell was created to help protect the caster. But one can never be too careful with mana. Carefully find your rhythm, fall into your centre, and release the control. Let your body do what it always does."
Suta relaxed his muscles before taking a deep breath. His fingertips stiffened and then loosened again. He finally lowered his palm against the rolling dial, and almost by instinct, his body began transferring the mana he had syphoned. A cool exhale flowed between his lips as that heaviness flowed away through his fingertips like tendrils of liquid. A brief smile crept against the corner of his mouth. But then his eyes flashed dangerously wide.
A heaviness suddenly pulled against Suta’s raised eyelids. His view turned foggy, and darkness slowly crept over his vision. The feeling of powerlessness was so swift that Suta had just processed his thoughts.
“Damn…it.” He muttered, his voice barely a whisper falling on fading ears. Suta felt the firm ground beneath awaiting him. An immovable pressure seemed to sit on his body and pin him in place. As he expected, very swiftly, he lost consciousness.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Don’t be afraid.” The darkness whispers. A cold eeriness combed over his bare throat.
“Mortal, you have done good. Who would’ve thought my kin’s blood bleeds so richly through the cosmos?" Zoroths voice was like a sword carving the fog clouding his mind.
"Did you know how I was assured you would be the one to free me from that hell? Only the blood of our kin could decipher the forbidden technique.
I could smell it on you. I could smell a lot from your strange existence—a broken core and what seems to be a whole host of unruly evils scurrying around in you. Alas, my curiosity has been stirred. Dear mortal, I’ll tell you two things to mark this fated meeting between us.
The day you find yourself in the world where you belong, tell your people to prepare themselves. I will return to claim what they took and hid from our eyes.
Secondly, he’s alive, you know, kuku, they’re probably all alive.Those wretched false Gods -kukukahaha…”
A cold pitch of silence swallowed the atmosphere around him. Was this death? Suta first thought. He might’ve believed it without the heavy wind brushing against his face. His eyes flashed open, and he drank in a deep gasp of air as he rose upwards. His gaze lowered, and he found his hands pasted in sweat lathered against the stone floor.
He moved and felt a strange airiness to himself. A small euphoric rush spirited him up to his feet. He moved too fast and locked his knees, slightly bending forward. Suta stretched out his hands and caught the rebuilt control base. Feeling the smooth edges startled him, and memories suddenly came rushing back.
The surge of the air around him was almost deafening. Why are there suddenly strong winds roaring around?
It's almost like I’m out-
Before he could say anything, he lifted his gaze ever so slightly, and his eyes bore wide as saucers. He was staring at an obscenely giant doorway against the wall. A large white light floated in the middle, surging this growing presence of a storm brewing—or something worse.
Suta scanned the large hall that almost didn’t seem so spacious now that this door had appeared.
Only, it couldn’t have just appeared. His eyes busied around until latching hold of the floating cloud ascending out of his reach.
Suta could already smell foul play. He was glad he didn’t fully commit to this plan despite foolishly entering it.
“Hey! W-what the hell did you do? M-make it stop.”
The sharp winds howled louder as the pressure increased twice in a matter of seconds. That same orbiting white light grew bigger, and then its layers began to peel away, unfolding into a large white sheet covering the entire giant-sized hole.
“The corridor has finally opened. They tried to stop me 100 years ago. Kukuku, all their gallant efforts, finally sizzled into ashes. Come, take a look at it. The beginning of a new world.
Four swirling grey gasses sizzled at the four points of the white doorway. A colourful, inky substance took the gasses' place. It continued the trajectory of the gasses before it until it gradually formed into four solid balls of silver. Suta stared at the four balls before feeling a sense of de ja vu washing through his spirit. The worry in his eyes made the briefest of changes. Like a switch had been flicked, and all his emotions had drowned away. At that moment, he saw Ringo and his Mom's faces again. A short gasp broke free from his lips. And a dark look of unease masked coldly over Suta. Four red portals quickly rippled into existence. The swirling grey inside each shimmered like a mirror of water.
Suta's cold gaze locked onto Zoroth, who was gradually moving towards the portals. The boy reached for his red dagger, a cold glint sparkling in his brown eyes.
A sound like crackling glass stole his attention back towards those grimacing four red-outlined portals. From the top right corner, the calm, silvery surface rippled. Then, a foot walked out, a limb covered in white garments and a delicate golden chain wrapped around the ankle. Then the rest of its limbs joined, and a fully-abled fellow stood in the air, a mask of shrewd curiosity slightly visible against his olive, youthful face. The silks were gold and blueish-white. The clothing bore a striking resemblance to a Ninja. Or more accurately
‘What the eastern empire once wore?’
Dark blue hair cut shaggily short just beneath the ears. Long drooping eyes and a pointed chin. He would still be considered quite handsome.
Suta moved his gaze to meet his chest.
He wore dazzling grey and blue gemmed armour, gauntlets, and a matching breastplate that almost expertly melded in place with the robes.
Like those revered martial artists, he could still picture their showy and colourful silks and robes. A voice almost as youthful as the face spoke out.
“General, by the pillars of Heaven, you’re back, " said the fellow. From that moment, Suta was alert and started to unravel what was slowly happening.
“You heard my signal. Good. Perfect, my most formidable disciple. Then it means you completed all I had bestowed upon you 100 years ago? Which means... kukuku, you finally arrived at that level?”
The fellow nodded his helm and sunk to one knee. It still very much dawned upon Suta that he was balancing in mid-air. Zoroth circled the fellow before rising away to a close distance.
“You have done well. You fought long and conquered feats that only figures in legends had done. It is now time to break…kukuku, to break the wall down. Come. We will reunite once we find what to do with this…body of mine.”
The fellow had risen back to his feet with a constant head slightly bowed and both hands folded behind his back. “Yes, General, I have already discovered a measure regarding your plight.” He said
“We have shamans and followers of the Asura, and those from the golden peace of buddha. I have made them formulate a most efficient plan to transfer your soul into a-“
His voice was snatched away from his mouth. Something was felt. Suta could taste despair the moment he attempted to walk back. The figure slowly turned towards him. He merely blinked once and felt the pressure of a predator locking onto its prey. His senses practically screamed at him to run, but his soles were rooted to the ground, Fear, and nothing like what he had ever felt before.
Death, death was coming...
Zoroth positioned his gassy form between the two. “Leave him; the blood of my kin runs through his veins, kukuku.”
The fellow arched his brows in wonder, but his response in kind appeared no more than a second after the wave of curiosity brushed through. He quickly nodded in agreement and turned away. Instantly, Suta felt the imaginary chokehold cease. The sensation of clean air sent a prickling tingle racing against his fingertips. He took a heavy breath and gasped. He freed himself from the mental cage and centred his breathing into a steady flow. His knee buckled, but he caught himself.
Once full mobility had returned, Suta withdrew further away from the two floating in the air, clutching hold of his throat in distress with a look of dread mixed with the coldness against his gaze. He watched them from below. His eyes bounced from Zoroth to that man beside him, who Suta could sense was at a level way beyond what he could see right now—much to Suta’s profound gladness. The duo began to take their leave. The cyan-haired fellow lightly flicked his hair. Deciding not to spare Suta a second look.
Zoroth slowly drifted towards the Portal but stopped just before it entered. The cloudy wisp of smoke carried no face, but Suta could somewhat feel it when it turned around to look at him. Staring into those swirling grey balls of tomoe gave him the chills.
“Dear little mortal, our oath has been fulfilled with this.” The ghostly voice echoed against the stiff air. Suta couldn’t shake his eyes away from those three watery portals. His chest tightened, fingertips clammed with nervous moisture. And only one thought raced through his mind at this moment.
That night, he lost his family. The night they were all taken.
“T-taken?” He muttered absently, a scared finger crawling in the air.
“H-hey? My family were t-taken by those same…”
“An entire century, heh! I almost lost all hope, dear boy. You have my frailest of gratitudes. I, Zoroth of 25th Legion. General of the Demon Kings Army will oath to spare your life one day. Kukuku, right now, my words may seem trivial, but one day, mortal, you'll soon understand.'
Suta captured the words 'Demon King's Army, ' and an uncomfortable coldness ran through his blood for a while. He merely stood there watching the cavernous walled hole left in place of the shimmering grey portal. Torn between begging them to take him along in hopes he could somehow find his way out. Or, merely, this would be the catalyst for some unforeseen disaster brewing on the horizon. Perhaps some Guardian or God expected him to stop these two shady fellows. That thought almost brought out a slight chuckle. There was no way he would be attempting to stop them.