The Harvester - Chapter 368: The Tale of A Miracle

Chapter 368: The Tale of A Miracle

“{We’ve arrived,}” Garuda announced as he slowed down drastically. Rakna stood up on his back now that there was no need to balance himself and briefly looked around, before focusing on the region that lay right in front of them.

The Eagle God glided around its border and he narrowed his eyes at it. At first sight, it was terribly dreary and mundane. It was far smaller than Garuda’s territory and there was nothing more than uncovered dirt without vegetation all over the area.

But there were also some traces on the ground as if a battle had occurred there. In fact, it reminded Rakna of a strikingly similar scene. That was proven to be even more accurate when he saw what was situated at the center; one of Arimane’s crosses with a dark figure sitting on top of it.

‘…this looks like the battlefield where the old man’s avatar spoke to me,’ the therian thought.

“That’s Karaskan?” Higure asked doubtfully as she stared at the man veiled in darkness. “Well, he does look the part if anything,” she scoffed while the others stayed silent. On the other hand, Nyx had an eyebrow raised in mild confusion and Hans appeared intrigued.

“Garuda, can you land?” Rakna eventually requested and the eagle nodded.

“Right up,” he replied and gently turned inward of the Mad God’s territory. He plunged and flapped his wings right before hitting the ground, pushing away the dust. When he firmly planted his talons in the soil, Rakna was the first to jump off.

At the same time, the shadowy figure stirred and turned toward them. A grin seemed to split the darkness to greet them and as if sensing it, the chains inside the cross’ skull rattled loudly.

“Hm, it looks happy to see you,” the Mad God spoke up, his voice effortlessly reaching every corner of his land. “Or perhaps wary of me meeting you? Who knows, I don’t quite understand this cross in all honesty,” he started the conversation in a casual manner, not an ounce of malice in his tone.

Even to Rakna, his nose couldn’t smell anything even close to evil or malevolence. But that was far from a surprise to him. ‘To be considered the old man’s nemesis… evil alone doesn’t cut it.’

With that thought, he halted his advance a dozen meters away from the base of the cross. Everyone else stood behind him at a certain distance, and Garuda was ready to intervene if something went out of control.

However, both the Eagle God and Lucrecia were already having a strange premonition as they saw the Mad God engage with Rakna as if they knew each other. Both of them also recognized the cross and whom it represented, apprehensive as to why the enemy of the Kind Demon would be resting on the latter’s symbol.

“Are you not going to say anything?” Karaskan tilted his head, the coat of shadows following his movements. “I don’t mind answering any query you might have.”

Rakna snorted. “How generous of you,” he said and the Mad God chuckled. “How about this then; why does this place look like this? It’s not in your image, is it?” DiiScôver 𝒏𝒆w stori𝒆s on no/𝒗/e()/lbin(.)c/o/m

“So, you’ve been here before, hm?” The God hummed quietly. “You’re correct. It’s not mine. This is simply where I died.”

Rakna scowled at that and the others weren’t much different.

Karaskan chuckled. “Perhaps an explanation is in order. I am not the real Karaskan. He died at the hands of Eternal Night long ago. This replica of a battlefield you see here…” He waved at the barren land. “…is the mental scape of the Kind Demon as a mortal. And this cross I sit on, was the mark he used for ‘my’ grave.”

“…”

“Shortly said, I was once something called a Seed of Chaos. One of the many created by the original version of me. We had a duty to spread ‘chaos’, as per our name. And I happened to be trapped in this System by coincidence. At first, I was admitted as a Host and I even reached the 240th Plateau.”

Garuda reacted to that with a squint. “…you went through Divine Tribulation, didn’t you?”

Karaskan smiled. “Indeed. It happened the day Eternal Night’s Cross landed in the System. I, who had been disconnected from my real self, was suddenly struck by a wave of existentiality defining simultaneously my creator as dead and me as his last remnant, effectively transforming me into a new ‘Karaskan’.”

The Mad God looked down at the cross. “I received Tribulation; divinity denying my survival as a mortal and reshaping me into a God. The System banished me here and this Cross quite literally fell from the sky, overwriting this territory of mine and shackling me to it,” he said while raising his left hand to show his wrist bound to a chain.

“Thus…” He lowered his arm and grinned. “I inherited the name of Karaskan and all his memories, even down to the moment he met Death itself. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“A grave, eh?” Rakna snickered. “Yes, I suppose it does. Now, I’m relieved I don’t have to honor my promise to the old man to kill you if he has already done it. And if he made a grave for you… that’s all you will ever be able to amount to.”

Karaskan cackled. “How unkind; I know very well how miserable and wretched I am. Though, were you to wish for my death, you’re welcome to do so. I’m pretty certain the Cross will assist you in this endeavor.”

“I’ll pass,” the therian deadpanned and snapped his fingers. Purple soul flames burst around him and spread out to depict the forms of two beings; illusionary clones of Roias and Verias releasing presences eerily similar to their real selves, albeit evidently weaker.

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❮ ◈ ❯ You have learned a new Soul Spell; Mirage Decoys! ❮ ◈ ❯

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Rakna didn’t pay mind to the notification and calmly waited as Karaskan inspected the appearance of the two Abyss Rulers. The Mad God held his chin with a smirk as he beheld the vicious visages.

“I assume you came here to demand my knowledge?” He asked and Rakna responded with silence that almost seemed to threaten him. “Haha, all right then. I’m sure I don’t have to explain what the origin of the Téra is at this point. In that case, tell me, what do you know of Meuro?”

“…the False Realm, The Abyss, the Realities’ In-Between, and Embodied Emptiness,” Rakna replied what he had directly learned from Nyx and Roias.

Karaskan’s smirk widened. “That’s mostly correct. But before I say anything else, let me ask you something else. Let’s say there was a being who was born as the living incarnation of Meuro. What would Emptiness personified wish for? What would their life goal be?”

Rakna entertained the idea for a moment and tentatively formulated a theory, “To be filled?”

With a pleased nod, the Mad God acquiesced. “Exactly. Emptiness always wishes to be full. And on the occasion that it gains that opportunity, it will take it. Meuro is often seen as a void in Existence itself, but it is not quite right. Meuro is its counterpart and happens to possess something bigger worlds and realities tend to develop; a Will.”

Karaskan laughed. “The Will of Meuro is synonymous with the Will of Emptiness. It desires to take in everything that exists within itself. In the same way, I’m sure you understand, that if a creature were to adopt the Will of Meuro as their own, they would wish for the same thing.”

“…you mean the Abyss Empress?” Rakna uttered questioningly.

“Absolutely. Ah, truly, my Téra have come a long way,” the Mad God sighed melancholically. “I am immensely proud to have fashioned a species of monsters capable of harnessing the power of the greatest force of anti-life. Though, of course, that they reached such heights is only thanks to your uncle whose might he shared. What else would you expect from the Kind Demon’s ‘children’?”

A surprised hiccup echoed to the side and Lucrecia quickly covered her mouth, a small blush rising to her face. Hans chortled mockingly and she glared at him while Garuda widened his eyes in shock at the revelation he had just heard.

“Point in case,” Karaskan continued indifferently. “The Abyss Empress has but one goal; to open the way to Meuro. This is what she is convinced of; it’s the very meaning of her existence and she will stop at nothing to accomplish it. Not even her ‘Father’.”

Karaskan pointed at the sky. “And the key to her goal is up there. The core of Systema; a source of raw energy supplying a ‘machine’ capable of reaching all corners of Existence. She will take it for herself and clog the emptiness of Meuro. But what she may or may not understand is that… Meuro cannot be filled. It is impossible. No amount of power or matter can change that fact.”

“Meuro is not an empty bowl. There is no container at all. Once the Abyss Empress gets her hands on Eden…” The Mad God grinned. “Existence as we know it will end, lost in Emptiness never to be resurfaced, for it is no more. Only the strong will survive; the Primordials will remain and the Téra that have adapted will survive. And they shall wait. Until the Major Realms and the Spiritual Tree eventually rebuild a world from scratch. And then, if left alone, the Empress will repeat the same process; again, and again, and again…”

A heavy silence settled down and Rakna growled, clenching his hand and shattering the illusions he had made. He stared at Karaskan who was noticeably enjoying the topic. “No wonder you could make my old man desperate to kill you,” he muttered and the Mad God tilted his head.

“No matter what you say, your emotions don’t change,” the therian declared. “From the moment I arrived here, your scent was the same. Only thrill and excitement. When you said you were proud, there wasn’t anything of the sort. But the truth is, even those initial emotions were fake.”

Karaskan responded with narrowed eyes.

“I can only imagine how he must have felt,” Rakna huffed. “Knowing that the one he hated was no more than a pretender hiding under the banner of evil.”

“…you’re twisting the knife pretty deep there, aren’t you?” The Mad God retorted calmly. “Well, it is neither wrong nor right. Believe whatever truth you prefer,” he said placidly. “On that note, now that you know what their goal is, perhaps I should tell you their weakness?” He asked playfully.

He, of course, didn’t receive an answer nor a reaction from the therian, and he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Of course, you would. Oh, perhaps you don’t even understand the full extent of the Empress’ power?” He asked in amusement.

“Ah, what should I do? I could always keep my mouth closed…” He tapped the wood of the cross with his finger and then chortled as if his words were a joke only he caught. “Though… what good would that do me?” He mumbled with a chuckle, his ramble confusing his guests.

“Before I speak of weaknesses… let me tell you something about the Téra,” he said. “You see, this is unknown to most, but the way they evolve is always aimed at their Father.”

Rakna’s expression twitched.

“The stronger they become, and the more they evolve, the closer they get to Eternal Night. It is in their essence to strive for power similar to his; to be equal. Of course, it’s not like they will obtain his power. That is impossible. What it implies is simple… the limit of a Téras’ strength is the limit of the Kind Demon.”

Karaskan smirked. “The Abyss Empress is the most evolved Téras to date… and unlike any other of her brethren, not only has she harnessed Meuro, but she most likely has fulfilled her inherent desire for power. Her growth has ended. Do you want to know how strong she is?” He snickered at the idea. “It’s simple addition.”

“In other words…” His smile disappeared. “You have no chance of victory,” he declared coldly and it was without surprise that not even a sound was uttered to defy his words.

Lucrecia and Garuda were aware of what such a level of power entailed, and it was all too clear on their faces. But their view could never compare to Nyx, who paled horribly. In her mind, she could not even imagine a limit to Eternal Night’s power, much less visualize a way to defeat it.

The Mad God silently watched them and seemed to have discarded his fake countenance for good this time. He looked back at Rakna and the silent spectators.

“Téra have no weaknesses either,” he spoke up emotionlessly, further pressuring them. “It is true that they possess a mild vulnerability to holy energy and elements that conceptually counter their mutation. The Abyss fears fire, but only because its light embodies life and revelation, not because it is capable of harming it. None of these things are enough to kill them.”

Another brief moment of silence settled as Karaskan paused for a third time. His whirling eyes of darkness peered into them. “…did you know?” He abruptly raised his voice, his tone reverting to something a bit lighter. “The System calls those who either consume the flesh or blood of other creatures as Abyss Creatures.”

The switch in topics brought confusion to more than one. “It is not by coincidence or because the System believed it to be more convenient to classify.”

“The truth is… the Abyss Empress wasn’t Meuro’s first conception,” he declared. “There is a long-forgotten and most likely not recorded tale that dates back to times Existence was in its infancy. It is about a human child meandering far too deep into a forest behind his village.”

“The child got lost in the evening. Scraped by branches all over, he cried at the setting sun. On that day, tragedy struck. He had the worst of luck; finding himself somewhere he should never have. It only happened once across the entirety of Existence, yet the boy had the misfortune to be present.”

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* * *

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“A hole in the fabric of reality that should have never been there,” the Sage of the Crystal Mountain whispered as he sat inside his chalet. His hands held his cane’s grip as he observed the hearth of his fireplace flicker. “The boy tumbled right into it.”

“Caught by the maws of emptiness, he was the first to suffer its unforgiving revel. His senses were erased, his body was robbed, his mind was violated, and his soul ached. In pain, it sought salvation and his desperation carried him to the door of miracles.”

The Sage smiled bitterly as he glanced at the entrance of his home.

“All the boy wished was for it to stop…”

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* * *

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“…and it did,” Karaskan said and gazed over the unnerved expressions before him. “The child was the first being to die and yet survive Meuro. He was returned to the real world. But by then, it was already too late. All that was left was a husk of a corpse.”

“Yet, it appeared so delicious,” the Mad God uttered with an audible timbre of irony. “The beasts of the forest approached it, step by step. Then…” He raised his unshackled arm. “They carved into his flesh,” he clenched his hand into a fist. “They drank his blood and swallowed his bones.”

“The monkeys, wolves, vultures, and maggots who ate his flesh became Ghouls. The worms, deer, birds, and bats who drank his blood became Vampires. The bears, apes, and hyenas who chewed his bones became Wendigos. They were the originals and progenitors… Ambrogio? Dracula? Even those were not the First Vampires, much less the rest.”

Karaskan stopped talking for a short moment and the darkness surrounding him grew in opacity and size. “The boy was the only existing proof of survival to Meuro. Its only conqueror…” He said while the only thing that could be seen of him under the shadows was his silhouette.

“You already hold one of the weapons against the Abyss,” he added as he pointed at Rakna. “You wield the Stones of Eternity. But if you truly desire a victory worthy of that boy’s desperation, go and scrape off his miracle.”

Karaskan huffed and the darkness burst, making him disappear. “You have all that you need. Now go and do what the righteous aspire to; grit your teeth, fight, and save this miserable world.”

With those words hanging in the air, the Mad God vanished.