Eternal Undying Chronicles

Alicarde left the server room, leaving Kim behind, and stepped back into a scene of utter carnage.

The air was thick with the smell of blood and sweat, mingling with the stifling atmosphere of fear. Groans of pain echoed through the room as the wounded soldiers lay scattered on the ground. Blood caked the floor, painting a gruesome picture of his handiwork.

Broken bodies were strewn about, some slumped against walls, others lying in awkward, twisted positions. Yet, despite the brutality of the scene, not a single life had been lost.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

'Yay me, a job well done if I don't say so myself,' Alicarde thought, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he surveyed the results of his power.

He walked toward their leader, who was slumped against the wall, his body battered and covered in blood. The man's breaths were shallow, and his face was pale from blood loss, the fire in his eyes had dimmed.

"You... you are gonna pay for this... you've made an enemy of the world government," the leader whispered, his voice strained and barely audible over the groans of his fallen comrades.

Alicarde didn't respond. He simply stared at the man, his violet eyes gleaming with cold indifference from behind the hood. T

he leader's weak defiance meant nothing to him. With a final, dismissive glance, Alicarde turned and began to walk away.

'Geez, I really hope their health insurance can cover this. I think I went a little overboard,' he thought.

As soon as Alicarde's back was turned, the leader mustered the last of his strength, pulling out a small receiver hidden in his bloodstained jacket. His hand trembled as he pushed the button, calling for support.

"This is Lieutenant Van... requesting immediate backup from High Command," he rasped, his voice cracking from pain. "The target is... a reaper. I repeat, the target is a reaper. We need everything you've got...

this is a true monster."

There was a brief pause, filled only by the lieutenant's labored breathing. Then a crackling voice came through the receiver, its tone cold and authoritative. "Lieutenant Van, this is High Command. Confirm the identity and current status of the target."

"Confirmed... the target is demon, this one.. a reaper.' He's... taken down our entire squad. We need reinforcements, immediately," Van managed, his voice faltering under the strain.

"Understood. Reinforcements are en route. Maintain visual contact and avoid direct engagement. We cannot afford to lose any more personnel," the voice responded, its calmness a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding Van.

"Roger that... but you don't understand... this guy... he's not just some fighter... he's a monster. We need more than reinforcements.

We need—" Van's words were cut off as a violent coughing fit overtook him, blood splattering the ground.

"Lieutenant, remain calm. Reinforcements will be there shortly. Hold your position and do not provoke him further," High Command ordered firmly.

Van slumped back against the wall, his strength failing him. "You better hurry... I don't think we've got much time left..."

Alicarde, oblivious to the leader's final desperate act, continued on his way. He exited the room and mounted his bicorn in one fluid motion, a dark silhouette against the lights.

The feel of the powerful beast beneath him was exhilarating, and he was beginning to get the hang of riding. There was something intoxicating about it—the sense of control, the surge of power.

He couldn't help but relish the sensation, most of all, it made him look cool. Nothing was more important than his coolness factor.

He glanced back, not sparing a thought for the remaining soldiers inside. His sword was securely fastened to his back, its primary purpose tonight merely to enhance his coolness factor.

Although he felt it was a waste to hold a sword and not swing it, he knew it wasn't the time. After all, what was the point of swinging a sword if not to kill? The sword was the king of all weapons, and weapons were made solely for killing.

His mood was euphoric—the fear he had instilled in them was intoxicating. The expression on the leader's face, that mix of defiance and despair, was particularly satisfying. Alicarde's twisted mind reveled in the idea of facing a stronger enemy, someone who could actually pose a challenge.

The thought of bringing down someone better than him, watching them fall into the abyss of their own despair, sent a shiver of anticipation through him. Gone were the days when he was the one afraid and weak.

Aeternus was not weak. He was eternal.

The bicorn moved with astonishing speed, its hooves barely touching the ground as it crossed the length of the building.

Alicarde didn't even bother to teleport, this was his way of showing disdain for his opponents. Since they had already seen him, he might as well show them the extent of his power.

He was strong now, nearly untouchable, and the thought made him chuckle sinisterly as he zoomed across the building interior.

As he emerged from the building, different lights hit him, casting his shadow in sharp relief against the ground. The personnel outside had been waiting, their weapons trained on the exit.

Alicarde may not have known it, but High Command had reacted fast—too fast. All the personnel on the ground were deployed with a security alert of DEFCON One, maximum readiness. The Bureau of Intelligence building was just too important.

Alicarde saw squads of armed soldiers, their faces tense and focused. A few tanks stood ominously in the distance, their cannons trained on him, flanked by a couple of armored vehicles with turrets that glinted in the moonlight.

'Wow, this place really is secured. What the hell did I just take?' he thought, somewhat amused by the show of force. The spectacle before him was almost comical in its futility. He was untouchable, and they were about to realize just how outclassed they truly were.

Alicarde was ready to make a spectacle. He noticed civilians in the far distance, hidden behind military personnel, their cameras rolling despite the soldiers' attempts to shoo them away. Helicopter lights, but not military—civilian.

'Ahh, the press. Looks like your boy Alicarde finally made it to the big screen,' he mused, a twisted grin forming beneath his hood.

Suddenly, a vibration in his chest signaled the flow of magic to his mind, establishing a telepathic link.

"What on earth did you do? I told you to be discreet!" Malefica's voice thundered in his head.

"Well, actually, you didn't. You said not to kill people, and I didn't…" His reply was laced with snark.

"You... I also told you not to draw attention!" Her voice echoed with growing irritation.

"We can't all get what we want. This wasn't what I wanted either, but when you make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs."

"Fine… meet me on the roof… now! And try not to get any more attention on us. I'll use my last spell to conceal us before you arrive," Malefica ordered, her voice tense with urgency.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he replied, his tone still snarky.

"I repeat, hands in the air!" a voice shouted, cutting through his mental exchange.

The soldiers were trying to maintain control, their voices strained with tension. "This is your final warning! Surrender now, or we will open fire!"

Alicarde didn't like the lights trained on him. Though his face remained hidden in shadow under the hood, the soldiers were on edge, unnerved by the sight of his monstrous steed.

Wrath, his bicorn, was a creature of nightmares—far larger than any horse they had ever seen, with demonic violet eyes, infernal flames flickering at its hooves, three sharp horns jutting from its forehead, and fangs bared in a predatory snarl. The sheer presence of the beast filled the soldiers with a deep, primal fear.

"Submit to my will," Alicarde commanded, his voice deep and sinister.

With a casual raise of his right hand, Alicarde unleashed his power. The soldiers within a seven-meter radius were suddenly lifted into the air, their limbs flailing as they floated helplessly, defying gravity. Panic erupted as they screamed and fired their weapons wildly, the muzzles flashing in the darkness.

Alicarde watched in satisfaction as the bullets, instead of reaching him, hung suspended in mid-air like a deadly constellation.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the floating soldiers were slammed into the ground with bone-shattering force. The impact echoed like thunder, their bodies crumpling on the concrete, cries of pain mingling with the clatter of dropped weapons.

The press cameras captured every moment, the carnage unfolding in vivid detail, transmitting it to millions of screens across the globe.

Alicarde was intent on giving them a show—a demonstration of force that would serve as a clear warning to Zagarath and his allies. He could feel Wrath's bloodlust, the bicorn eager for a slaughter, but Alicarde kept it in check, issuing a firm order not to kill.

With a swift teleport, he vanished from sight, reappearing behind a group of soldiers near a tank. Their confusion was palpable, eyes wide with terror as they spun around, searching for their invisible foe.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"Is he human?"

"Fall back! Fall back!"

"Open fire, goddammit!"

The shouts of command were drowned out by the roar of gunfire. But Alicarde was already in motion. He raised his hand, and the tank rose with it, its massive weight defying gravity as it floated into the air like a child's toy.

The soldiers stared in disbelief, their panic turning into sheer terror as the tank hovered above them. Alicarde's eyes narrowed, and he brought it crashing down onto an armored vehicle, the collision creating a deafening explosion.

The ground trembled under the force of the impact, and a shockwave of dust and debris blasted outward, knocking the soldiers off their feet.

Wrath, sensing its master's intent, charged toward the next armored vehicle with unbridled ferocity.

Alicarde leaned forward, his sharp gauntlet digging into the metal frame. He combined his gravitational manipulation with his superhuman strength, lifting the vehicle as if it weighed nothing. The metal groaned under the strain, twisting and screeching as it rose off the ground.

Bullets ricocheted off the vehicle's chassis, the futile attempts of the soldiers to halt his assault. With a mighty heave, Alicarde hurled the vehicle through the air. It soared across the battlefield like a missile before crashing into a group of approaching reinforcements, the resulting explosion illuminating the night sky in a fiery bloom.

Chaos reigned as Alicarde unleashed a wave of fear. The soldiers around him recoiled, their faces contorted in terror, limbs shaking uncontrollably as they dropped their weapons and stumbled back.

The aura of dread he projected seeped into their minds, overwhelming their senses with a paralyzing fear.

He moved through their ranks like a phantom, each motion precise and fluid. His hands lashed out, hurling soldiers aside like ragdolls, their bodies slamming into walls and each other with bone-crunching force. One by one, they fell, unable to withstand the overwhelming pressure he exerted.

Despite the devastation, Alicarde remained careful not to kill, his attacks calculated to incapacitate rather than destroy.

"What are… what do you think you're doing? Hurry up, I'm still waiting!" Malefica's voice snapped in his mind, pulling him back to the task at hand.

"Right, my bad," he replied telepathically, acknowledging her impatience.

He brought Wrath to a halt, the bicorn rearing up on its hind legs as flames erupted from its hooves. Alicarde teleported to the top of the fallen tank, his figure looming over the chaos below.

From his elevated position, he surveyed the scene. The battlefield was a tableau of destruction—soldiers sprawled in disarray, vehicles twisted and smoking, the remnants of his onslaught scattered like broken toys.

The press, who had been hiding, peeked out from their cover as Alicarde spoke, his voice dark and sinister, reverberating through the night.

"The guilty will know agony," he declared, his words echoing across the battlefield and reaching the cameras that had been left rolling.

The world around him rippled like disturbed water as he and the bicorn vanished from sight.

In the aftermath, the press began to stir, murmurs of disbelief and awe spreading among them.

"Did you see that?"

"What the hell was that thing? A demon?"

"No, no, it was like… more like... a… reaper…"

"Go live! We need to get this out there, now!"

"Write it up for the morning papers—this is going to be front-page news."

"This is crazy, the ratings will be through the roof!"

"I want our people investigating, I want all the details!"

The world was stunned by the birth of the Reaper, the ominous figure who had left a trail of fear and destruction in his wake. And as the cameras broadcasted the footage, the legend of the Reaper began to spread, reaching ears far beyond the confines of the battlefield.