Chapter 65 Voidwright (5)
As Fitran's last shadow devoured words and Magus Atlantis stood frozen in silence, the very air around them ruptured. This fracture was not conjured by magic or sound; it was the manifestation of existential disagreement. Beneath their feet, the ground began to splinter, luminous cracks snake-like in appearance, crawling outward from Fitran's figure. These fissures intertwined with the cerulean radiance pulsating from his hands, unleashing an otherworldly vibration that rippled through the atmosphere.
"You've been talking too long, Fitran," a voice cut through the tension, emerging from behind a creaking sky.
A dark rift tore through the firmament like a gaping wound, reluctant to mend. From its depths emerged a figure cloaked in shadow, his gaze reflecting a profound emptiness. Pulses of red light flickered around him like ominous fireflies, heralding the arrival of an unstoppable force.
Vorrak had arrived.
Lord Albrecht instinctively retreated, inching towards the ranks of remaining Magus. "Two Voidwrights...?" he whispered, his voice quaking with disbelief. "This is no longer a battle for humans." An icy chill surged through the air, wrapping around them like a suffocating shroud, darkening the sky and withering the grass beneath their feet.
Fitran turned his gaze, seemingly unperturbed, perhaps even expectant. As he raised both hands, emerald light erupted from his palms, cascading through the air like shimmering waves of energy.
"Finally, you've arrived, Vorrak. I was beginning to wonder how many sects you would obliterate before grasping the truth: that you are merely prolonging your own immortality." Vorrak came to a halt, just three steps away, a lingering tension palpable in the air.
"You speak of immortality as if it were a gift, Fitran. But I have witnessed its true nature—a virus that infects the soul." With a fluid motion, Vorrak summoned a carving of radiant purple light that burst forth from his body, enveloping him in a shimmering illusion. The air around him rippled and trembled, as if responding to an unseen force.
"You allow the world to mirror your own emptiness, deluding yourself into believing that without names or boundaries, they will find freedom. Yet, all they become are mere echoes of your destruction." As he spoke, the vibrant flora surrounding them wilted and blackened, drained of life by the encroaching darkness birthed from their conflicting powers.
Fitran nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept across his face. The light emanating from his hands deepened in intensity, cascading over the environment and transforming it into a breathtaking tapestry of colors that danced and swirled.
"And you still cling to the belief that erasure can restore meaning." His voice resonated through the charged atmosphere, causing ripples of energy to vibrate in response, tightening the very fabric of reality around them. A visual mirage materialized, captivating the onlookers with its surreal beauty.