READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 134: Not Enough...
The chasm lay still—a hollow, gaping wound carved into the flesh of the earth. Faint tendrils of silvery mist coiled upward from the devastation, dissipating into the shattered air. Sunlight spilled in jagged beams through the fractured ceiling far above, illuminating the aftermath of the cataclysm. The mana in the air crackled faintly, unstable and raw, like the world itself was still reeling from Rui's final strike.
Rui hovered amidst the ruin, his silver aura flickering weakly around his trembling form. Blood dripped from his chin, staining the collar of his torn black tunic, while faint crimson trails ran from the corners of his glowing eyes. The runes etched into his irises flickered, faint and unstable, like dying embers struggling to stay alight.
His breaths came sharp and shallow, every inhale scraping against his lungs like shards of glass. His body was failing—his muscles screaming, his bones aching, his mana reserves drained nearly to nothing. And yet… he remained afloat, suspended by sheer will and the faint remnants of his once-roaring aura.
Far above, Kovar's airship hovered at the edge of the fractured sky, its stabilizers flaring desperately to maintain altitude amidst the chaotic mana turbulence. Inside, Kovar's pale fingers flew across crystalline control panels, his glass brain dome flickering with streams of cascading data.
"Rui… respond," Kovar's voice crackled through Rui's comm crystal, tight with tension and something close to fear. "Can you hear me? Are you still… alive?"
Rui exhaled slowly, his cracked lips trembling as he reached up to touch the comm crystal embedded in his collar.
"Alive…" he rasped, his voice faint, hoarse, but steady. "For now."
The sound of Kovar's relieved sigh crackled faintly over the comms. "You mad… impossible boy. I'm reading massive structural destabilization across the entire chasm. Whatever you did—it's reverberating outward across the Abyss itself."
Rui's silver eyes scanned the devastation below. Entire sections of the cavern floor had collapsed into yawning voids. Stone pillars lay shattered, their remains scattered like brittle bones. The mana threads in the air were fractured, scattered, flickering weakly in chaotic patterns. But amidst the ruin, one thing was painfully clear:
The God of Grief was nowhere to be seen.
Rui's chest tightened with unease, his grip trembling as he clenched his fists at his sides. His eyes scanned every flicker of shadow, every fractured edge of stone.
It's not over.
The oppressive weight of grief hadn't fully faded. The suffocating aura, though distant, still lingered at the edges of his senses.
He's still here.
Far below, deep within the void left by the destruction, faint whispers began to rise. Rui's glowing silver eyes narrowed as he focused, his trembling aura tightening faintly in response.
The shadows moved.
From the fractured depths of the chasm, tendrils of shadow began to coil upward, faint at first, like smoke rising from a distant fire. But they grew thicker, darker, spreading outward with deliberate intent. The oppressive aura of grief returned—faint, but undeniable.
And then… a sound.
A faint, hollow laugh.
The shadows stirred violently, spiraling outward into a vortex of churning darkness. From the depths of the void, a figure began to rise—a towering silhouette cloaked in shadow and wreathed in chains.
The God of Grief.
His form was fractured, unstable. Cracks ran along his chest, glowing faintly with unstable light where Rui's final strike had landed. Shadows bled from the wounds in thick streams, dissipating into the air like smoke from a dying fire. But despite the damage, despite the devastation, he was still… there.
His hollow voice echoed across the ruined battlefield, trembling with faint amusement—and something else. Something bitter.
"So bright… so fleeting… but still, not enough."
The chains around his form rattled faintly, their runes flickering weakly, struggling to maintain their grip on the entity's unstable form.
Rui's eyes narrowed as he forced himself to stand straighter mid-air, his trembling aura snapping outward like thin threads of molten light.
"You're still standing," Rui said, his voice barely above a whisper, but sharp as a blade. "How?"
The God's hooded head tilted slightly downward, the empty void beneath his cowl staring directly at Rui.
"Because grief… does not die so easily, child of fleeting light. You burn brightly, yes… brighter than most. But brightness fades. Stars die. And when they do… the void remains."
The weeping began again—soft, distant, echoing endlessly through the shattered chasm.
Kovar's voice crackled urgently in Rui's ear. "Rui, your mana reserves are depleted. You need to fall back. Your body won't survive another surge like the last one!"
But Rui didn't move. His glowing silver eyes remained locked on the towering figure below, his chest rising and falling with sharp, measured breaths.
He couldn't fall back. Not now.
He looked down at his trembling hands, faint arcs of mana flickering weakly between his fingertips. His aura was in tatters, frayed and unstable, but there was still something left—some spark deep within his chest that hadn't burned out yet.
No. I can still end this.
Rui's silver eyes narrowed, and the faintest flicker of light sparked within them.
Kovar's voice cracked again. "Rui! Don't—"
But Rui cut the connection, his hand brushing lightly against the comm crystal before letting it fall silent.
He closed his eyes briefly, drawing in one final, sharp breath.
And then he let go...