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Pathless Origin: Bane of the Gods

Chapter 8- The Solitary Sword Sovereign Strikes!

 

 

From Malachi’s point of view, this was only possible if the youth in front of him was a fallen immortal. Fallen immortals were beings far beyond what normal mortals could fathom. Once Malachi thought that the youth in front of him was a fallen immortal, he calmed down.

“It-its him!” Malachi looked to his side and saw one of his women shake in fear. They were puppets, who had lost control of their own minds. They shouldn’t have the ability to feel any emotion without Malachi’s permission, yet at this moment they were afraid.

“Lord Malachi, it’s-” before the girl could finish, her head separated from the rest of her body. Malachi was gobsmacked. Things happened before he could react.

Malachi had not sensed any form of movement from the sword wielding youth so no attack should have occurred, yet the headless corpse next to him said otherwise.

“My name doesn’t matter. What matters is that I was sent here by Lord Modus to have a nice chat with you.”

The young man’s words struck Malachi like a bolt of lightning from the nine heavens. Modus was one of the most powerful beings in existence. One that Malachi had no intention on offending. No cultivator used his name lightly, so Malachi had no doubt that he was not lying. Saying that name lightly would result in a fate far worse than death…

“I don’t have time to waste, so let’s cut to the chase.” said the sword wielding youth with a frown.

Malachi put on the friendliest smile he could and opened his arms.

“It is an honour to be chosen by Lord Modus, might I ask what he wishes to speak to me about?”

A sword wielding youth who works for Modus…could it be him? But why would he be on such a tiny world?

Malachi had heard many legends about Modus, one of the recent ones was that he had acquired an incredibly talented disciple, one who single handedly fought The King Of Titans and his entire army to a standstill single handedly. Rumour has it that it had taken him less than a century to reach that level of strength. His name wasn’t well known. He was only known as The Solitary Sword Sovereign. All that was known about him was that he liked to carry a rusty sword with him.

There is no way someone can be that strong. The King Of Titans is a monster, to defeat him and his legions single handedly is impossible.

Malachi doubted the rumors and doubted that this youth had such strength. Either way Malachi did not want to aggravate someone strong; someone who worked for Modus.

“Before we have that chat, I want that hit you talked about. Surely you won’t go back on your word will you?” said the sword wielding youth with a savage grin. Malachi immediately broke out into a cold sweat. The air suddenly became thicker and killing intent started radiating from the sword wielding youth’s body.

Malachi wanted to weasel his way out of this scenario, but the sword wielding youth gave him no chance to speak. “Listen you blood sucking freak. I’m going to take three steps, and on the third step I will strike you. Let the games begin….one.”

As the sword wielding youth spoke, all he did was to take a single step forward, but that step alone was the greatest force everyone there had ever felt upon their souls. Malachi was especially experienced in the art of cultivation and stood at the apex of strength, yet that single step and that single word almost caused him to nearly cough out blood. It took him all of his strength to keep standing.

Artillian and the remaining red haired girl were not so lucky. The girl’s body deformed and the sounds of bones breaking emanated from her body to the surroundings, multiple cuts and wounds suddenly appeared all over her body and she started bleeding profusely. If she could, at that moment she would have screamed in agony.

Artillian merely felt a bit dizzy and coughed up some blood. He could feel that he had some internal injuries in his body, but they paled to the weighed placed upon his soul.

The sword wielding youth looked at Artillian with a look of admiration. “Not bad not bad. Okay then…two.”

The second step brought fourth earth shaking changes, the building they were on shook violently, or to be more accurate the space did.

This is spatial distortion! Who is this boy? He can destabilize space with merely a word?

Fear of the sword wielding youth started to seep deep into Malachi’s bones as he started to convulse along with the vibrations of their surroundings. The red haired girl completely turned into a pile of flesh as her body was grinded by the space around her. A fountain of blood escaped from Artillian’s throat as he too started to violently convulse. Cuts and bruises started to randomly show up on his body as he rolled on the floor.

Yet that wasn’t the most frightening part. If the first word weighed a ton, then this word weighed a thousand tons on their souls. Both men, especially Artillian found it difficult to stay conscious, they felt as if each of their minds were holding up continents. After a few more seconds of struggle, Artillian finally lost consciousness, albeit only for a few seconds. The thick stench of death made it difficult for him to sleep, or rather it did not allow him to.

The sword wielding youth nodded his head when he saw this and looked toward Malachi. The latter could feel something wrong was about to happen, so he brought out a glass like object shaped like the moon and held it tight in his right hand.

“Oh, that must be a lifesaving treasure from the Van Locke clan. Very well, let’s see what will prevail. Your treasure or my sword…three.”

Malachi immediately broke the glass like object in his hands and a translucent like barrier covered his body from head to toe. Yet he had no idea that this was no different from trying to block a steel spear with an armor made of grass…no…the grass had a far better chance of success than compared to this.

With that word, the youth gripped his sword. The moment he did, a white flash spread amongst the entire surroundings, yet it was not a beautiful illuminating light. It carried the thick stench of death with it. It carried bloodlust.

At that moment, Malachi Van Locke disappeared from earth, never to appear again.

Artillian had no idea what happened, for when the white flash arrived, he lost consciousness again. As if his mind had paused. Only to regain consciousness on the roof top alone, or at least he thought he was.

Once again the sword wielding youth appeared before like he came out of thin air. Artillian opened his mouth, but he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Don’t thank me son. I was following orders. Besides, you created this mess.” The youth walked toward the edge of the building and was about to jump off, before looking back and saying the last words Artillian would ever hear on earth.

“Because you are weak.”

“Haaaah” Artillian woke up in the middle of the night, one look at his sweaty body and the tent he was in made him realize that it was just a dream. A memory of what once was, and would never happen again.

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