A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 347: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 8

Two Gods, in a single body. Two weighty stones on a single lever, with the pivot being the will of the individual. His erratic motions calmed at that, as his thoughts overcame the initial resistance, and understanding flowed out as the result of the conclusion.

Another Hobgoblin found itself beheaded.

"Disturbing strength," Francis noted. He sounded frighteningly sane, as his hands fell away from his head, and he studied what was in front of him. "The aura of Claudia would indicate the Second Boundary, but the strength to overcome my minions… He's eclipsed that."

Francis had killed more than a few knights, and more than a few priests. He knew the secrets of the Boundaries. Their discovery furthered his own quest for power.

"A seesaw then… The Curse of Despair, weighed against that wench's favor? Two opposites, existing together in equal amounts. But then, the result should be weaker, not stronger…"

"How is he..? Mm? Unless his soul subordinated them completely…. They'd be snarling at each other like angry dogs," Francis noted, his eyes calculating. What he saw were unfathomable depths, unfathomable power, limited purely by a singular soul.

All the darkness flowed towards him, and he showed no hint of weakening under its strain. His eyes showed a strong purple. From the murals Francis had found of Ingolsol in forgotten crypts, he knew that purple to be Ingolsol's eyes. Even more than Dominus, he understood the weight of the strain that Ingolsol could inflict on a mortal's body.

For a moment, as he processed such things, his logical mind produced an emotion he had not felt in a long time: a hint of respect.

And then his sanity began to dwindle once more, as the problem was solved. The world once more darkened at its edges, tinged by the narrow light in which he saws things now. His own world was permanently stained in purple, as though someone held a lens permanently over his eyes. He saw things far differently than he once did.

Everything had a set of veins, even the air, as it recorded the flow of mana.

With his dwindling sanity, there came that burning hatred that dominated his waking life. He saw power in front of him, and now he didn't like it. He saw the source of his failed plan – that boy, somehow, acted as a sinkhole for all that Ingolsol was. He limited the despair his domain produced, by absorbing a good chunk of it himself.

His sword danced with an edge of darkness, and a shadow clung to his shoulders.

Another Hobgoblin fell, and then another Konbreaker. Easily, effortlessly. Beam felt the hatred burning in him, just as strongly as it was in Francis. He found himself hating that mage for all he'd done, and all he attempted to do.

Francis knew what he had to do now. It was the boy that needed breaking. He needed to crush his soul, remove the balance, and free Ingolsol from his cage. He pointed a palm towards Beam, and began to gather mana.

With his mana, there set forth the Half-Titan, vicious and bloodthirsty, angry from the easy deaths of many of its comrades.

It swung at Beam with its lengthy arms, racking at him with its shining claws. He dodged the blow with a quiet motion, and struck by strongly, drawing blood at his wrist. It was as though every move he made had a purpose. As though he could do no wrong, as though every attack would find its home.

As Beam fought, he felt a sudden rush of heat at his side. He glanced over his shoulder at the mage. He'd known he was about to do something, but he had no ability to sense magic, only danger – and this magic was quiet, in the same way that a campfire was quiet. It crept at him with a sudden subtly. It was only the rush of heat that warned him of it, and by then, it was nearly too late.

A hard shoulder knocked him out of the way when he reacted too late.

Judas took the flames in his place, hunched up, pulling his head into his chest, as the flames flickered yellow and orange around him, heating up his armour for a moment, before they disappeared. His undergarments set alight, and he dove into the snow with a considerable lack of grace, followed by a sigh of relief, as he felt the heat immediately begin to fade.

The stout bodyguard was not alone either. Beam hadn't heard their approach, for he'd been so focused on the enemy in front of him, but they were all already there.

There was Nila, with her bow drawn, loosing an arrow at the Half-Titan as she skidded to a halt in the snow, and then there was Lombard, falling into a fighting stance, with Tolsey at his side, and Greeves and the soldiers trailing behind them.

Just behind the leaders, there came an army of villagers storming their way as well. The instant Beam had been captured, it was set in stone that they'd help him. Unintentionally, the boy had found himself at the centre of it all.

With their arrival, and the widening of his eyes, Beam felt the hatred in his heart fade to something more manageable. The gold circles in his eyes didn't glow nearly as brightly as before. Slowly but surely, he found himself calming, and with it, growing increasingly powerful. Explore more adventures at M V L

Francis watched. The process did not escape his astute eyes. Even as more of Ingolsol's energy poured into the Domain, Beam's control over it only grew. The cowl of darkness that Francis had seen growing up around his shoulder, that faded too, at least from sight, but the energy of it didn't fade.

If anything, it seemed to grow, though the darkness of it was dulled, as it bonded with something else and grew stronger for it.

"Irritating… Annoying… Blasphemous…" Francis muttered to himself. The villagers could not see what he could see. They could not understand what he felt. They could not see the darkness that had clung to Beam like a bad smell, nor could they see the lines of power that Francis had drawn up, and how they ran towards his Dark Domain, filling it with ever more potential.

So much time had been spent on it. So much time, so much agony, so much research. Even now, the Domain continued to grow, though such a thing was only truly visible from the outside.