Chapter 60 Besides You (4)
In a place unrecognized by either sky or earth, nestled within the folds of reality that even the gods dare not gaze upon, lies a foreign dimension—one without time, direction, or meaning. There, she stands alone, surrounded by a pulsating void, as if all existence is meditating in an unutterable fear. The sky above is pitch black, filled with the sparkle of dead stars, creating a web of light that reflects the surrounding darkness. The ground beneath her resembles a trembling sea of gray, producing invisible waves that herald the arrival of something unknown.
Her name is Rinoa. She should not be there. Yet, she feels energy coursing through her body as if the backdrop of darkness is bestowing upon her an unexpected strength. She wears a shimmering black cloak marked with a series of ancient silver symbols that glisten like morning dew. Her long, bronze hair flows gently in the instability of the dimension. Around her, dark forms begin to materialize, distortion creatures birthed from forgotten history.
The creatures were devoid of thought. They appeared in terrifying forms; some resembled shadows with slender bodies, surrounded by swirling purple mist, while others were large and covered in coarse, pitch-black fur that exuded a foul stench. Their eyes glowed a fiery red, creating an oppressive atmosphere as they approached, lunging with sharp, glistening teeth. There was no pause among them; they attacked with terrifying speed, filling every space with their presence—as if the concept of "purpose" meant nothing to them. In the midst of the tense battle, the sounds of cracking and screams merged with the rumbling that emanated from the depths, creating a destructive harmony stronger than the echoes of emerald in the forest.
However, Rinoa is not an ordinary being. Grasping her silver staff, its tip glows with a vibrant green light swirling with energy. As she moves it, the light spreads like a trail of brilliance pulling darkness towards a central point. With graceful yet precise movements, she launches her attack, channeling energy into a focused stream of magic. Tendrils of sorcery converge, forming a shimmering trunk that slices through the creatures, leaving behind a blazing trail of ashes. Each strike awakens an elemental presence that animates this timeless dimension, as if the waves of energy produced are art inscribed on an unending canvas.
Rinoa, devoid of mana, lacking a connection to the magical system of the world, should have perished long ago. Yet, she possesses one thing that cannot be consumed by Beelzebub, cannot be sealed by the Glyph of Sinking, and cannot be comprehended by anyone in the realm of magic: memories.
From those memories, she forges her weapon. In this timeless dimension, the atmosphere is faintly depicted, filled with flowing black and purple mist that restricts visibility. Its shape seems to tremble, as if defying the laws of physics.
She took a step, his foot touching the surface of the ground that vibrated with an irregular rhythm. The realm's earth echoed with the first fragment. Waves of air pulsated, transparent with shimmering blue and green light. "The first time I met Fitran... he saved me. But it was I who continued to live to save him."
From those words emerged a spear of light—not from anywhere, but born from the intense vibration of loyalty. The light seemed intertwined with emotional energy, shining with orange and yellow hues like a blazing fire. He hurled it towards a horde of creatures crawling like a black ocean. These beings were amorphous, their dark skin textured like seaweed crust, appearing slimy and repulsive. Some creatures exploded, turning into empty vapor, leaving a corrosive green residue that destroyed the ground around them. Yet the next wave came, larger and wilder—these creatures formed a line, some as tall as trees, with wide, piercing red eyes, while others were as small as mice, moving agilely.
Rinoa did not back down. She opened the second fragment.
"He called me Rinoa not because that is my name, but because he did not want to forget me."
An explosion of emotional energy danced around her body, enveloping every corner with a shimmer of radiant colors. A soft pink mist mingled with electric blue, forming a transparent cloak that embraced her like invisible wings, creating an illusion of mystique. This cloak was not armor; it was a memory that endures. It served as a shield against the creeping creatures with glossy black scales, adorned with fiery red spots. These beings glided in a mesmerizing sway, reminiscent of dark currents in a turbulent ocean, trying to bite, tear, and erase.