"I apologize for forgetting about you, Shadowmire," he whispered . The once chaotic battleground had transformed into a tranquil place, erasing all traces of the earlier conflict.
Funny enough, the situation had arisen from Shadowmire's discontent. It seemed that the Divine Armament had thrown a tantrum due to feeling forgotten.
In fact, it wasn't his fault. He had come to realize that certain fragments of Fenrir's memories remained inaccessible to him. He theorized that this might have been a result of the peculiar energy that had disrupted Fenrir's regenerative abilities.
After fixing the misunderstanding, only Vincent and Shadowmire remained. The creature had transformed into a midnight-dark cloak that enshrouded him.
The cloak then took on the appearance of a jacket, with a dark metallic plate adorning its chest area, while its sleeves and cloak were fashioned from soft silk.
[No problem..]
"You still struggle with words?" Vincent's chuckle filled the air. He recalled that Divine Armaments often gained greater intelligence over time, much like Erika's white serpent. However, this development seemed to have no effect on Shadowmire.
Perhaps, he pondered, this was due to Shadowmire's formless nature, as it lacked even a brain to facilitate such development.
[No problem..]
"That's alright, partner," he replied warmly .
Making his way to the cottage, he reached the resting place of Elizabeth's slumbering body.
"Pass me the fragment, partner," he requested.
He intentionally refrained from absorbing the fragment earlier. Being the last piece, he suspected that completing the set might trigger something too impactful.
Shadowmire complied, placing the fragment into Vincent's outstretched hand. As he clenched his fist around the fragment, he could feel its powerful energy coursing through him.
His unique ability allowed him to instantly discern the nature of the energy he was absorbing, gaining a fundamental understanding of it upon absorption.
The power encapsulated within the fragment bore a striking resemblance to the concepts of atom replication and destruction.
In that moment, he gained a deeper understanding for the extent of Shadowmire's capabilities. The power of atom replication was overpowered and hinted at the incredible potential locked within this kind of ability.
He delved deeper into the concept, realizing that Atom Replication involved creating matter by duplicating the arrangement and properties of subatomic particles. He pictured atoms as intricate puzzles made up of various pieces, like protons, neutrons, and electrons. Replicating an atom was like copying this puzzle perfectly to generate a new atom that was identical to the original.
In his mind's eye, he envisioned himself as a master puzzle solver, carefully replicating the arrangement of particles to create new matter. It was a remarkable concept – the ability to generate new atoms and thus new matter from existing ones. The idea fascinated him, as it hinted at the incredible potential to reshape the physical world.
As for "Atom Destruction," he understood that it was the reverse process.
Instead of creating matter, it involved breaking down atoms into their fundamental components. It was like disassembling the puzzle to reveal its individual pieces. This process, he thought, would require a deep understanding of the forces holding atoms together, as well as the ability to manipulate those forces.
He marveled at the possibilities and implications of such abilities. The thought of having control over matter at its most fundamental level was both exhilarating and humbling. It was as if he was glimpsing the underlying code of the universe itself.
Unfortunately, even Shadowmire's grasp of this power was at a rudimentary level, limiting its capabilities to basic manipulation.
While it had the ability to enlarge itself, it lacked the complexity needed to replicate existing matter as Vincent now understood.
He also figured out how Shadowmire's ability to redirect attacks worked. Essentially, the Divine Armament disassembled the atoms of an incoming attack, rendering it harmless, only to reassemble the atoms almost instantaneously.
However, Shadowmire's lack of advanced intelligence hindered its potential. It was unable to fully utilize this skill to its maximum extent, and its limitations were now clearer to him.
What about him? With his background in physics and atomic particles, he was confident that he could further refine and expand this newfound ability.
But that would have to wait for later. His current priority was focused on completing the entire absorption process.
Unlike other fragments, the power within this particular fragment proved to be more intricate and resistant. It wasn't a common element or power; therefore, his body needed time to adjust and assimilate this unique energy slowly.
As he completed the absorption process after a couple of minutes, a sudden reaction emanated from his chest. The sensation was so excruciating that it would have been fatal for any ordinary human. However, for him, it was merely a sensation to bear. His body and pain tolerance had already reached a level where such pain was manageable.
Suddenly ,he could sense something emerging from his chest, and indeed, it was the medallion. After all this time, it was finally being expelled from his body and hovered in the air.
A surprising twist, he thought, though he didn't mind, especially when he realized that his powers remained intact even as the medallion left him.
The medallion, suspended in the air, underwent a mesmerizing transformation. At first, it shimmered with a faint glow, particles of light dancing around it like fireflies in the night. Slowly, those particles started to coalesce, weaving intricate patterns as if guided by an unseen hand. The medallion's edges blurred, its outline growing softer and more ethereal with each passing moment.
As the luminous particles continued to weave their dance, they gradually assumed a delicate, human-like form. A figure emerged from the radiant mist, her silhouette casting a soft, enchanting glow in the surrounding air. The form took shape, gaining depth and detail until a semi-transparent woman stood before him, her presence otherworldly yet undeniably familiar.
She possessed an ethereal grace, her translucent form radiating a serene beauty that seemed to transcend the mortal realm. Her features held an uncanny resemblance to Elizabeth, every curve and contour of her being echoing the woman Vincent had seen in his memories. Only a subtle, spectral quality distinguished her from the living, her form bearing a gentle luminescence that glowed softly in the air.
"Elizabeth," he called out, he was very sure that the woman before him was indeed Elizabeth. She looked nearly identical, except for the wolf ears atop her head.
The luminous figure gradually opened her eyes, and a pair of vivid crimson orbs gazed back at Vincent. Her red eyes held a depth and intensity that seemed to pierce through the fabric of reality itself, as if they were windows to a realm beyond the mortal world. Each hue and shade of red swirled within her irises, giving them a mesmerizing and captivating quality.
"Vincent, I'm grateful to you for completing the fragment," Elizabeth's sweet voice resonated.
"You know the truth?"
The moment he heard her say his name, he was taken aback.
"I've been with you all along, so of course I knew," she replied.
"Then, why didn't you speak to me?" Vincent's question held a mix of confusion and a touch of frustration. If Elizabeth had been there all along, witnessing his actions and struggles, why had she remained silent?
A hint of sorrow touched Elizabeth's ethereal gaze.
"I couldn't intervene directly. I was force to sleep by the weight of forbidden knowledge I had acquired. "
Elizabeth's explanation didn't fully dispel Vincent's unease, but it did offer some clarity. He understood that their situation was far more intricate than he initially grasped. As he looked into Elizabeth's eyes, he sensed a depth of knowledge and emotion that words couldn't quite convey.
"Are you upset that Fenrir wasn't resurrected despite all of your efforts?" he wondered.
"I'm saddened, but not angry. From the very beginning, I knew Fenrir could never return to life," she explained.
"What do you mean?"
Elizabeth let out a sigh as she searched for the right words.
"Both Evangeline and I knew that the person who would be resurrected would not be the same as Fenrir. But we came to accept that,"
"But I'm not Fenrir! I'm not the person you've loved all this time," he retorted.
Elizabeth countered, "When a person loses their memory, do you believe they become an entirely different individual? You might not realize it, but you and Fenrir are remarkably alike. You are you, but you're also a part of him at the same time,"
"I..." He paused for a moment as he contemplated her words.
He had already embraced that way of thinking long before her. However, this situation was different. Previously, he had adopted that perspective to appease everyone, but now, Elizabeth herself was acknowledging it.
"Do you love me or Fenrir?" he asked, seeking clarification.
"I love you both," Elizabeth responded, her ethereal form gently lowering as she reached out and touched his face. Despite her intangible state, he could still feel her warmth.
"Do you love me? Do you love all of us?" Elizabeth posed the same question to him.
ραndαsnοvεl.cοm Vincent was taken aback, his thoughts racing. He had been driven by a desire to fill Fenrir's role, but now he was faced with a more deep question: did he truly love all of Fenrir's wives?
In that moment, memories flashed across his mind.
While he might not have known them for an extended period, he recognized the great qualities in each of them.
His feelings for them had evolved beyond mere role-playing. He realized that he had genuinely fallen for them, for their unique virtues and the meaningful connections they shared. It wasn't a matter of loving them to fulfill a role, but rather loving them because of who they were.
"You have a way with words," Vincent admitted, shaking his head in acknowledgment.
He recognized that Elizabeth was making a crucial point. While their feelings for Fenrir had been the foundation, their affection for the person he had become was equally real and significant. Arguing over who held the most love in their hearts was a fruitless endeavor.
"I love every single one of you," he replied with a warm smile.
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