Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 922: The Man Who Would’ve Been A God

What is a hero? A champion of the people? The scourge of the enemy? Or is it something else? Well, on Atlaris, it meant only one thing. A puppet of the gods, whether those gods know or intend it or not. Caught in a web between warring deities. The winning side paints the picture, and the loser is eternally scrubbed from history. Only in the absence of gods and the effort of mortals of mortalkind can this world flourish. If only that were possible, if only the solid under their feet itself wasn’t the rot of the goddess devil.

”We meet at last,” the voice echoes around Raven’s soul as he wanders the shattered ruins between dimensions. ”But we don’t have long to talk. You must soon return to your body, or it would be too late for someone.”

”Who are you?” He asked, looking around frantically.

Much like his visit to purgatory, the space around him was darker than darkness, with a kaleidoscope of reflection of his own burning soul. Staring at himself, he noticed something peculiar. His very soul had a slight crack in it–the part Umbra had taken from him long ago. As for the rest, it burned both bright and dark, almost like that crystal ball Aurora was playing with. And yet, it was far from the same object. The light within him had a blueish hint while the soul of Nightsilver burned as bright as the sun.

”Who am I...” The voice echoed once more, but this time Raven saw lips moving in the shattered kaleidoscope of dimensions. A face came into view, segmented into different sizes and heights thanks to the shattered ’mirror’. ”I was once a hero like you. I was once this world’s hope, I was–”

The voice stops midsentence as Raven’s eyes catch a glimpse of the image’s hands. Imbued with twilight gems in the back of its hands, the reflection reminded the hero of the Athenian token given to those few who have reached the adventurer rank of Nightsilver. Violet as twilight and as starry as the night.

”Nightsilver,” he whispered, his vision lifting back to the reflection’s head.

What little expression it had was dropped as well, and thus, the hero of the past revealed himself.

”Yes, that is who I am.” Staring into the hero’s soul, Nightsilver heaved a sigh and continued. ”The man who would’ve been a god, the man who defeated the demon lord the last time he reared his head. And the man–”

The image pauses once more and walks out of the shattered glass, forming as one. He wore neither his cape nor any armor, but the scars of his battles, along with a lone blade stabbing his heart. Grabbing the hilt of the weapon, the hero of the past squeezed his fingers around it.

”And the man who became the demon lord to kill him.”

”What are you–”

”The darkness in you, Raven.” Holding his hand forward, he moved his finger in a circle to outline the outer end of the hero’s soul. ”It is designed to grow heavy with hatred. The hatred of gods. I was the same, but there was hope for me, for my body was my own, my soul, a natural creation, but you...You’re different.”

Tired of puzzles, the hero screamed.

”Nightsilver or not, just speak plainly if you want to say something!”

A faint smile took over the past hero as he loosened his grip on the blade in his chest.

”Heroes, they are nothing more than Nerva’s puppets. The gods of now think they are the only way to defeat the demon lord, but the elder knew that the rot goddess was using them as candidates to fuel her plot to end this world.” With a heavy gulp, the past hero glanced up. ”Yet they did nothing because a common enemy helped drive the mortals to get stronger. Once strong enough, they could topple Nerva’s plans again and again. And at the end of that war? The mortal would be ready to play their role as tough soldiers weathered by the horrors to fight again in the holy wars.”

Lowering his head, Nightsilver grabbed the blade’s hilt again.

”When I reached the end of the world, I had yet to realize that fact. And that’s when Nerva showed me the darkness festering in my heart. My hatred for god has manifested as the devil himself. Much like how faith strengthens the gods, my hatred and that of all who’d been frustrated by their tyrannical commands, become in the end, the demon lord.”

Pulling on the blade, the past hero took it out entirely. His body didn’t bleed, nor did it flinch; instead, in the cavity of his chest, an image was revealed. Peering in through it, Raven saw Nightsilver standing at the foot of a throne. His own likeness sat on the throne itself, but without a physical form. Instead, it was made of darkness.

”Nerva made the offer to assimilate with that darkness and free mortalkind from the rule of gods. It felt tempting and the lure to immense power–power enough to bring the gods themselves to kneel–was immensely strong.”

Looking through the cavity, the hero watched as a mirage of Nerva appeared around Nightsilver’s collar. Whispering something into his ears, the hero slowly walked towards the throne, his hand outstretched.

”But,” breaking the scene unfolding before the hero, Nightsilver added with an almost mocking touch. ”I saw through her lies. After all, she too is a god, isn’t she? And frustrated by my realization, she revealed the truth. That she planned to kill all mortals once I had done her bidding. My reward? Ha! To join her in her accursed state of unbeing.”

”So all of this is a ruse? There is no salvation, there is no end to this war as long as Nerva or the other gods live. What about Athenia?”

The reflection nods and then speaks.

”Her presence will draw gods from every possible reality. Only in the absence of them and the absence of all divinity, demi-gods or otherwise can this world truly be free.” The spirit pauses once more before speaking with a heavy heart. ”As for the demon lord. My hatred was too strong to be defeated so easily. So I assimilated with it. For a moment, the whole world felt like a bug, an insect for me to stop on. However, the few moments of clarity in between helped me drive this dagger right through my own chest. I’ve heard through you, the tales they tell of me. How I defeated the demon lord but got killed by him as well. That is how it happened. I killed us both at the same time, and eventually, you might have to make the same sacrifice. Unless you find a way to get rid of Nerva without crumbling Atlaris to space dust.”

Many of his questions had been answered, and many new questions had taken their place, but there was one final question the hero felt the need to ask; all the while, the rest of the information settled in his brain.

”What about me? Why do I have a part of your soul in me? And what’s happening with my body, I can feel it moving in the real world, but then why am I here?”

”You are...you have my soul, Raven. A part of it was used to give you mortality, but as I told you, I killed the demon lord and myself after I had assimilated with him. And for that reason, the little part of myself that you carry with you has both sides of me. Nerva knew that she could control you better if she did so, especially with her own soul binding everything together with your body that Umbra created before her memories were taken. Although...”

Placing the blade back into its place as deep as it would go, Nightsilver spoke his last before it was time for Raven to leave.

”When she took part of your soul as payment for helping you. The fae mother recovered those memories, and I assume she has her own plans for you. If and when you decide to rid Nerva’s lair, I would advise meeting with her–freeing them, the fae mothers, should help with your cause and further weaken Nerva’s ability to control this world.”

With that, a film of darkness covered Raven’s view. And the next thing he knew, his consciousness was back in his body, although the hold on his flesh by Nightsilver’s demon lord side was at war against his control, as were his companions. As they fought him from the outside, he fought himself from within.