Nightblade (Darkest night)

Chapter 255: Progenitor

From the moment Morgan had seen the being in front of him, he couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity that he felt with the mysterious figure.

Even surrounded by mounds of countless corpses, the unmoving figure was completely unbothered.

The battlefield around him was a scene of unimaginable devastation, yet he stood at the center of it all with a strange, almost unsettling calmness.

Blood slowly dripped from his clawed hands, its rhythmic thud echoing in Morgan’s ears.

The being in front of him possessed the shape of a man, tall and imposing, with a lean but powerful frame that carried a strange sense of restrained violence.

His posture was relaxed, almost casual, yet every instinct Morgan possessed warned him against the creature standing in front of him.

His body was covered in dark, tattered garments that hung loosely around him, remnants of what might once have been armor.

The fabric moved gently in the wind, stained with dust, ash, and blood.

Long dark hair fell over his shoulders, partially obscuring his face.

Dark scales covered parts of his arms, disappearing beneath his sleeves.

But what Morgan noticed immediately were the same golden eyes.

"They’re just like mine."

And Valerius.

And Conrad.

The man’s golden eyes were just like those of every other assassin and creature that was said to be awakened that he’d encountered.

It seemed that the origin of the awakened was not a trivial thing, and in fact, it dated back.

In those eyes, there was no excitement.

No sense of satisfaction from the foes lying dead and broken around him.

There was no pride.

Instead, Morgan saw an inhuman coldness in their depths.

That and an endless exhaustion that seemed far older than the battlefield itself.

In that moment, countless questions popped up in Morgan’s mind, but thermometer t urgent among them was the simplest.

"Just who is he?

Despite the countless enemies lying dead around him, the figure looked almost disappointed.

And...lonely?

Morgan strained to move back, but in that moment, his body remained stubbornly paralyzed as though under some sort of hex.

"Move, damn it, move."

Just then, the man’s voice carried across the forsaken battlefield.

"Another one..." he murmured.

Morgan froze.

"Wait! I—"

Instead, nothing came out of his mouth.

Despite his best efforts at making a plea, no words escaped his mouth.

The figure turned slightly, his golden eyes piercing across the battlefield with strange intensity.

The air around him shimmered with energy, then distorted violently, exploding outward with ruinous force.

A moment later, the figure stood in front of him, staring down at him with curiosity.

The man stared at him for a few moments, then smiled.

"Interesting. Another vessel carrying my blood."

Morgan’s mind went blank.

For several moments, he could do nothing but stare.

The words echoed in his head.

Another vessel.

My blood.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, to hide.

Anything.

But instead, his body remained completely frozen.

It was not fear.

At least, not entirely.

It was the overwhelming presence of the being before him.

The man was not releasing his power. Morgan could feel that much.

He wasn’t being suppressed by an ability. His body simply refused to move for one simple reason.

The figure before him existed on a completely different level.

Several thoughts churned through his mind concerning the identity of the man standing in front of him until...

"You..." he croaked, even the sound of his voice sounding foreign to him.

Morgan finally forced the words out.

His throat felt dry, but his mouth finally moved.

"You are the progenitor of the awakened?"

The man’s expression remained unchanged.

For a moment, he simply stared at Morgan.

Then his golden eyes narrowed slightly.

"Progenitor?"

A chuckle escaped his lips, his expression turning somber, almost bitter.

He shook his head, turning away.

"You mortals always look for beginnings and endings."

Morgan stared at him in disbelief.

Mortals?

Was he not a mortal himself...

The man slowly crouched down, bringing himself closer to Morgan’s level.

His golden eyes peered into Morgan’s own.

From up close, Morgan could see the details he had missed before.

The scales beneath his skin.

Morgan’s eyes widened slightly.

Actual scales!

The faint golden patterns running across his arms.

The unnatural aura seemed to distort the world around him.

The man standing before him was not human.

At least not completely.

The man placed a hand on his head, his eyes glowing with ethereal light.

After a while, his eyes widened slightly.

For a time, he simply remained silent.

Morgan could feel the man’s power flow through him, permeating his entire being, without any resistance.

Then, eventually, he spoke.

"You call it awakening," the man murmured.

His lips curled into a faint smile.

Morgan’s eyes widened slightly.

"I see..." the man muttered.

"You carry my blood..."

The man’s s gaze softened.

"But you do not carry my hatred."

The words unsettled Morgan.

Hatred? What hatred?

The man took a step back, then sighed.

"That’s a relief at least."

"What are you talking about?"

The man smiled.

"Within you, I sense vestiges of my power slumbering. But strangely enough, it feels incomplete. And even more strangely, there’s a darkness that lurks inside you.

Something g I’ve never encountered before.

The man frowned slightly.

"You’re a strange child. You can feel it, can’t you?

Morgan felt it then. The anger. The darkness.

The rage that occasionally surfaced within him.

The man smirked. His eyes glowed brighter, and with the surge in power, Morgan’s eyes glowed as well, resonating with the power within the man.

They were connected.

Yet different.

The battlefield began to shake. The world around them slowly fractured, thin cracks slowly spreading across the fabric of this reality where they stood.

Morgan’s eyes widened in realization, his expression turning grim.

The vision was collapsing. Just like the one before it.

Morgan looked around, then turned to the man standing before him.

"Wait."

Morgan almost cursed aloud at what he was doing.

But surprisingly, the horrendous pressure restraining him receded.

He stepped forward.

"I need answers."

The man watched him calmly.

"You will have them."

The ancient god’s form began fading.

"But not here."

Morgan’s expression tightened.

With that, the man dissolved into a torrent of light.