Chapter Sixteen: Rending Space-Time

Why could Eli still see? His battlefield wasn’t a lone island; it was a sea of borrowed sight.

The two swords in his hands were his eyes, twin moons reflecting the world, awkward mirrors sending him images, a tide of light into his mind.

Anyway, his brief clash with Zero was over, like thunder rolling past a cliff.

Why? Eli shrugged, shoulders like lifting hills; the smile gone from the face before him was answer enough, a sunset snuffed by cold rain.

Eli flexed his hands and grinned, a knife-edge of calm over a storm. Zero, you get it. Everything we fought for gathers here like rivers meeting the sea. If we fail, there’s only the grave, a winter with no spring.

You do understand, Zero said, voice flat as slate under frost. Then you should also understand your fate, a sealed road through dark woods.

No-fail prep. Are you ready? Eli’s tone was a quiet wind before a squall. In that breath, the power entrusted to him flared, a constellation lighting his veins. Back when he was a Sacred Rank Hero, he had a mode called Judge.

He later remade it, braided in Stellar Power, and renamed it Judge Mode, a blade wrapped in starlight.

It burned too fast, a comet eating itself, and the gain wasn’t worth the ash, so he let it go like a shed skin.

But now, after bridging two worlds like twin shores, Eli chose that old principle, stacking all force on himself, a mountain crowned with lightning.

Zero chuckled, a dry leaf in a furnace. The life blazing off this creature now outstripped his own, a moth outshining a sun, absurd and funny.

Steel yourself! Eli swept both blades, meteors across night, and crashed into Zero, anvils ringing sparks into the void.

Even weakened, he’s still this strong? Eli took a palm to the head, a falling boulder, and flew back like a broken arrow.

Zero hunted him without breath or mercy, fists like hailstones, smashing and interrupting the power Eli tried to gather like cupping water with torn hands.

It’s useless. I won’t let you unleash that old power, Zero laughed, laughter like cracking ice. I’ll grind you down to ash and drink the rest. He swelled in size, a mountain rising out of the sea, and hammered Eli, each punch a thunderhead.

Eli could do nothing but raise his swords, twin shields of moonlight, bracing against the storm.

He gritted his teeth, feeling his energy leak like sand through fingers, anxiety coiling like smoke in his chest.

Damn. He’d thought this would be enough to beat him, a blade meeting silk.

But the power was too tangled, rivers crossing in flood; he couldn’t compress it in one breath like before, a star forced into a gem.

He had to find a way, or when the borrowed light burned out, the road would end in night, just as Zero promised.

Despair? Zero appeared at his side again, a shadow stepping out of shadow, and pressed down, palm a sky. Countless drifting celestial bodies bent and fell toward Eli, stones hurled by a mad god.

When it’s over, I’ll throw your body into the sun, a pyre and a coffin, Zero said with a smile as sharp as a hook. He reached out and dragged a planet close, then slammed it down like a hammer.

Die. End this. Let the curtain fall like rain.

Cough. Curled in shattered rock like a wounded beast, Eli spat blood and held, teeth bared against the avalanche.

Hahaha. Looks like you’re out of moves, Zero roared, lightning and firestorms blooming around him, falling toward Eli like monsoon and volcano.

Above the Original Continent, Abyss watched Birand in silence, two shadows at the edge of dawn.

When Eli was driven into the planet, Birand coughed blood, a red flower on pale stone. The other half of his body slid back into this universe, and he collapsed, then raised his head to Abyss, eyes like tired stars, and nodded. Go. He needs help.

I understand, Abyss said, a deep current finding its course.

He came to Edlyn, seated cross-legged in space, calm as a lake under moon. Daughter. We have to rely on you.

Of course, she smiled, spring breaking through frost. But Father, how?

I’ll make you a part of the Origin Tree, Abyss said, words heavy as earth.

Huh? Edlyn blinked, like a bird tilting its head. Didn’t you say you couldn’t find it?

We can’t. It came to us, Abyss smiled, a crack of light at dawn. It’s the embodiment of the world’s rules, a river given roots. Now, its brother plans to destroy this universe. It won’t allow it. But the Origin Tree isn’t made for battle, so it needs a proxy, a blade in gentle hands.

Oh. I see, Edlyn nodded, a petal settling.

Daughter, you’re a child of the World Tree already, a branch from the trunk, Abyss said after a pause. This is like returning to the mother tree. You might never have an independent self again, a wave dissolved back into the sea. Do you accept that?

Dad, there’s no need to say more, Edlyn said softly, light pooling in her eyes. If it works, and I don’t come back, please take care of him, and our children, like warm rain over seedlings.

Abyss nodded in silence. I will.

I wanted us to pick names together, Edlyn said, looking toward the deep where Eli and Zero fought, the battlefield a distant storm. Looks like that’s not possible. Let me be selfish once.

Everyone fell silent, like a forest holding its breath.

The girl’s set: Anna Ostor. The boy… Yale Ostor, Edlyn said with a small smile, two candles lit in the dark.

Abyss nodded again. I’ve noted them. Go with peace. Head straight for Eli. You’ll meet the Origin Tree on the way; it’s waiting on the road like an old friend.

Mm. Edlyn smiled, a flower opening to sun, and burned all the power she’d gathered, turning into a ray of light that shot into the deep like a comet.

On the way, she stepped into a domain, a hush like dawn fog, and saw the small tree she’d seen before, a sapling under starlight.

The little tree waved at her, a leaf flutter in a windless sky.

Edlyn smiled and walked forward, steps like ripples.

The sapling turned into a golden current and merged into her mind, a river entering the sea.

A moment later, back in the real world, her Fiendish miasma became platinum light, a sunrise washing night away, and the Fiend wings on her back turned into two wide golden feathered wings, sunlit sails.

The horns on her head and tail behind her faded, snow melting into soil.

When she opened her eyes again, golden radiance cloaked her, a halo like a small sun.

The shackles on her body burst under that force, chains cracking like ice, and with a low cry, she whooshed toward that place like a falcon.

Eli lay soaked in blood, a broken banner in storm. He dared not waste power; he met Zero’s blows with body alone, bone against thunder, steel against tide.

But the edge was near, a cliff under his feet.

Looks like I’m the same as ever, he thought with a bitter smile, smoke in his lungs. I still can’t do it.

Seems you can’t hold on, Zero said, shaking his head like a pendulum. Pity. I thought you’d last longer, like a candle stretching the night.

He looked at his left hand, where power had gathered like a star egg, and nodded, satisfied. Goodbye, Eli. I’ll miss you. Dying under my perfect move suits your courage, a warrior’s tomb under the aurora.

As the energy condensed into a vast sphere, a dot bloomed inside, a black pupil, and infinite force streamed out from that point, a spring turned flood.

Zero held the sphere aloft and hurled it down at Eli, a moon falling.

Die, he shouted, a bell of iron in storm.

Eli breathed out, a tired wind, and shook his head, helpless as drifting ash.

But the next heartbeat broke the script like lightning splitting a tree.

A figure appeared before him and took the blow, back straight as a spear, body a gate of light.

The World Tree within Edlyn howled, an ancient forest keening, and held with her, two roots against a wave.

Zero had pillaged the cosmos for millennia, a drought over a continent, and the Origin Tree wasn’t born for war; his power far exceeded Edlyn’s now, a tide against a reed.

Edlyn turned and smiled, even as her body started to fragment under that eerie energy, petals lifting in wind.

Eli. Now, she said, voice gentle as rain.

In the next instant, the entire sphere and Edlyn vanished from before Eli, a candle snuffed by a hand.

They detonated millions of meters away, a sun bursting, a storm birthed in the dark.

The vast force rolled back with a cosmic gale, a tidal wave sweeping toward Eli.

Eli’s eyes flew wide, pupils like shattered glass. The fear called loss surged up like black water.

No. He clenched his teeth. He couldn’t see, but he knew what she’d done, like a bell struck inside his chest.

Blood ran from his eyes, two red threads, and his sight crept back, a dawn pushing night. But the familiar figure wasn’t there, only floating rubble like grave stones, and Zero far away, a cold star.

Pain and hate filled him in a blink, wildfire over dry grass.

He ignored the backlash between powers, forcing the protected energies within his body to surge into both blades, rivers fed into twin channels, and in a flash, he struck Zero’s neck, a guillotine of light.

It all happened in seconds, a knife drawn between breaths.

Zero stared at the cut that had taken his neck and both shoulders, disbelief freezing his face, a statue mid-scream.

How… is… that… possible! he gasped, words falling like broken beads.

The next instant, a blast no weaker than the one Edlyn had carried bloomed right in Eli’s face, a starflower in a storm.

The whole universe shuddered, drums across the sky.

Under that immense force, Zero’s body unraveled, dust in a gale, his expression unable to change before he vanished into the void, a candle gone in wind.

Far above the Original Continent, Abyss and the Celestial God felt their bodies lighten, chains melting like dew, and a familiar power flowed back into them, jurisdiction like scepters returned.

They looked at each other and sighed, two peaks under morning sun.

They’d succeeded, a ship finding harbor.

Then both unleashed the endless power that came with restored authority, weaving layer upon layer of shields, shells like onion skins of light.

The aftershock of the blast was almost here, a roaring tide at the cliff.

This would be the last wave of the disaster. They poured in everything, every thread, ready like archers at dusk.

Then the Giant Squid and other Seafolk who’d lost kin rose into the sky, grief like rain, and hundreds of powerhouses melted their flesh and blood, turning into the purest energy, clear water reinforcing the wall.

Thank you. We have no regrets. Let us help you one last time, the Giant Squid said, bowing as his soul faded, a lantern dimming into night.