Chapter 113: The Last Remaining Titan
In an entirely different place... far removed from Cain and Lucy, and from Nathan who dashed off at lightning speed, forced to return to the jewelry shop...
In the far, darkened North stood a soaring stone castle wrapped in blackness from every side, like a deserted structure. Yet a single illuminated window at the peak of its height starkly broke the darkness of the night, forcibly drawing all eyes toward it...
That soaring upper room, resting at the very center of the castle’s architectural layout—it was as if the entity that designed this entire building designed it for a single purpose: for your eyes to automatically shift toward that sole glowing light in that window!
Inside, the wide walls were adorned with dozens of human skulls hung in suspicious symmetry, carefully arranged like a dark piece of art from the collections of death.
In the middle of the spacious room oozing with the fragrance of the Middle Ages—where tongues of flame rose inside the stone fireplace, dancing while the crackling of wood mimicked the sound of heavy raindrops—sat an old man in a medical wheelchair, staring with both eyes toward that mural of skulls.
His aged, sunken eyes were covered with exhaustion and decay, yet his black gaze possessed a sharp, definitive intensity that almost pierced the soul to settle deep within the bones.
From the back of his trembling hand extended a transparent tube connected to a pole bearing an intravenous solution, while the medical devices attached to his chest pulsed with a faint, slow hum, as if breathing on his behalf in the final moments of his life.
His lips were pressed together in heavy silence and mysterious severity... Despite his frail body and stark emaciation, he wore an extremely elegant formal suit, its details cared for with a pride that refused to submit to time.
Directly beside his medical wheelchair sat another wheelchair of the exact same type and color...
Upon that tilted chair rested a large cotton doll, woven with fine traditional stitching to fill the dimensions of the chair as if it were a real human body! Its eyes were nothing more than shiny black shirt buttons... and the old man held the doll’s hand with a strong, warm grip that never loosened.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A sharp, amplified voice burst through the loudspeakers directed toward the massive wooden door of the room:
"Darrin Wilson! All exits are completely surrounded! You and everyone hiding with you in this room are encircled! Surrender immediately without any resistance! We know for a certainty that you are hiding hundreds of kilograms of explosives throughout this entire area... Think rationally, Darrin... You do not wish to liquidate innocent lives!"
The old man, "Darrin," leaned his exhausted head back against the cushion of the medical chair, breathing very slowly as the sound of his heart monitor on his chest rose in a steady hum...
Darrin whispered in a hoarse voice, yet with a firm countenance: "I have a marriage appointment with my bride... There is no one else with me in this castle."
The old man’s harsh grip upon the cotton doll’s hand tightened, squeezing it with surreal warmth and passion.
The harsh, overbearing response came from behind the door, growing louder and drier: "Do you truly believe that this miserable doll you call your ’bride’ will make me believe you are mentally insane or unaware of your actions?! I know the entire truth, Darrin! Inside that cursed doll lies the key to detonating all the bombs!"
The speaker’s tone behind the wall rose in bitter sarcasm: "What a poor wretched soul you truly are! You thought your ’alleged leader’—after disappearing for over eight years—was being honest when he told you all that he would leave the throne and influence behind, and that he no longer cared for possessing this supernatural power... purely because of a character that does not exist in the first place!"
Old Darrin’s facial expressions soured sharply, and his grip upon the cotton doll’s hand grew so fierce that the filling inside it was nearly squeezed by his trembling palm.
The voice behind the door continued hurling arrows and accusations with ferocity: "Do you know something? I am not surprised in the slightest that you selected him specifically to be your obeyed master! For both of you cling to delusions and characters that possess no existence in reality! Who could believe that the person who discovered the greatest secret in modern human history—’Mana’... Do you know why he did all of that in the first place?! You know the truth very well, Darrin!"
Darrin’s features grew clouded with anger and suppressed sparks, as the voice continued with mockery and malicious joy:
"...Yet you attempt to feign ignorance! You do not comprehend the scale of absurdity when that man attempted thousands of times, practicing meditation and starving his body to obtain Mana—not for your sake, nor for the members of your alleged organization... but purely to obtain enough power to travel across dimensions and reach the dimension of that stupid novel, just to meet a character who has no existence in the first place! He became a legend and an invincible power... not for you, nor for anyone, but for his obsession with a character born of imagination!"
At that time, old Darrin continued sitting firmly in the medical wheelchair with his frail, brittle limbs. His bones stood out prominently beneath the pale skin of his arms, and the contours of his skull appeared with gloomy clarity through the emaciated skin of his face...
Darrin finally raised his exhausted gaze toward the locked wooden door, a cold, mocking smile forming upon his lips, as though all the nonsense and accusations uttered by the siege commander meant zero to him, serving merely as irritating background noise.
Although those harsh words touched the depth of his old wounds, Darrin knew in his innermost heart that his journey had reached its final meters... And when death draws near within such an encirclement, it matters little whether your breath runs out while you are happy or sad... What truly matters is that you do not die while your enemies delude themselves into thinking they broke you or witnessed your downfall before the end!
He realized with his sharp intuition that he was encircled and monitored from every angle; for this castle was no longer the secret, safe sanctuary where his legendary master resided in bygone days...
The venue had lost its soul the moment "Cain" departed. In the end, after reducing this property to massive rubble utilizing the explosives planted within its bowels, these properties and memories would be the absolute last things to leave this world alongside his master.
A low, hoarse laugh emitted from the old man’s throat.
"Hahaha... you government dogs! You know nothing whatsoever... Even if you eliminate the last member of our organization, and even if you forge history and attribute the discovery of Mana to yourselves after I die as the sole survivor... you shall never overcome my master! It was he who chose of his own free will to step away and depart... And if there exists a single secret that rendered my master of such greatness and power, it is that he believed! That is what he instilled within our souls always: if you believe in something with absolute sincerity... perhaps you shall be struck with creative madness to behold it as a living reality pulsating before your very eyes!"
The dry, domineering voice echoed from behind the door once more: "It appears you have been struck with terminal madness yourself! Do you not comprehend that you are merely a hunted criminal?! It is not as you falsely claim—that you are ’Guardians of the Strong’... Encirclement of this area with explosives might cause an uncontrollable environmental and natural disaster! You act with baseness like a criminal purchasing his life by holding hostages!"
Darrin replied in a tranquil tone overflowing with mockery: "I am holding no hostages... My wife rests between my hands and within my palm. Perhaps the sole guaranteed matter here... is that you dare not breach the door and advance a single step without verifying that you possess an opportunity to escape this hell!"
Behind the door... within the pitch darkness wrapping the soaring corridor, faint glimpses of light leaking from the edges of the door illuminated for fleeting moments the face of the man standing there...
It was a strange, completely non-human face; living tissue merged with polished metals and technological components across its left half in a terrifying manner! Standing behind him was an entire fleet comprising thousands of programmed robotic soldiers, clutching state-of-the-art, hyper-advanced firearms!
The intelligent force commander stated, shaking his metallic head in impatience: "I know not what I can say to you, old man... I fear saying that squandering all these lethal forces upon an advanced-in-age man like yourself is merely a waste of time, to be candid... You might be their last survivor, yet I also anticipate that I was dispatched here to meet my demise alongside you, so that my name may be immortalized and your wiped-out organization’s reputation tarnished for slaying a hero such as myself!"
Darrin interrupted him in a stern, sharp tone: "You are no hero whatsoever."
The man with the half-robotic face smiled coldly, stating with malicious analysis: "You are approaching death for a certainty, are you not, old man? Yet I know there exists only a single thing in this universe capable of compelling you to surrender yourself of your own free will..."
Inside, old Darrin’s face darkened noticeably, and he moved his trembling finger to position it with caution atop the embroidered ring adorned upon the cotton doll’s finger...
The man behind the door continued his words in a tone carrying a sudden surprise: "In truth... a very strange and highly extraordinary incident was witnessed today in the city of ’Boise’, in the State of Ohio... A colossal truck loaded with artifacts from various civilizations was destroyed, and everyone present within the vicinity of the incident felt as though time froze completely for a few fleeting seconds before resuming its rotation, the two perpetrators vanishing in a magical fashion... Nothing remained at the site save for a single drawing: the drawing of the smiling emblem belonging to your organization upon the road’s pavement!"
Old Darrin’s eyes widened in absolute awe and shock! Although he knew with absolute certainty that these sayings might serve merely as a deceitful baiting trick... he knew deep down that this man resting behind the door could never lie due to the strict magical curse with which his master "Cain" bound him many years ago!
The robotic commander added intelligently: "Perhaps you are smarter than we think... and you conceal the bomb detonator and the secret code within this medical device attached to your chest rather than the doll... In that case, there is no call for panic or haste. Perhaps if you cling to life for just one more day... you shall be able then to gaze upon the face of your master once more!"
A warm, hot tear slipped from old Darrin’s exhausted eye as he recalled with yearning and passionate emotion the face of that man... "Cain"!