Zoltun Kulle was impatient. Bul-Kathos. It was a name heavy with power. The first ancestor still lived, and Kulle craved that original Nephalem blood for his protege as well. And if that wasn't enough, there was always Rathma, who was currently busy looking for his mother.
Rathma's flesh... Rathma's power... it would be more than enough.
Bul-Kathos would not become a mindless, egoless deity. He would be a God of Men, standing atop the purest Nephalem bloodline.
"Zoltun Kulle! You will regret this!" Andariel's final scream echoed as her ego dissolved completely. It sounded like a curse, yet there was a faint note of pity in it. Was she pitying her own past? Her unreachable dreams? Or the twisted path she had taken?
Kulle went silent for a long time before answering. "Yes, I will regret it. I will regret that I wasn't the one to become the strongest."
He let out a mad cackle.
Tragedy? The world was full of it. Kulle was no exception. Plans never go perfectly. The Creator of this world wasn't a programmer who debugged his code; the universe was a rough beta version, riddled with glitches.
That was why Kulle knew he had no chance of resurrection. Malthael had seen through his plans long ago. His blood, his body—all had been turned to ash by the power of Death. Malthael hadn't taken the Soulstone from Tyrael just to stop Diablo; he had done it to ensure Zoltun Kulle—the man who could always return—remained dead.
Where there is life, there is death. And a body without a will cannot resist, as Bul-Kathos had resisted Malthael.
Even though Kulle never believed he could lose to an Archangel, the Archangel of Wisdom saw further than Itherael, who claimed to see Fate. Kulle's only mistake was becoming a ghost. But if he hadn't, he would have shared Kanai's fate.
Archangels were far more despicable than people thought. Especially Wisdom. Wisdom is the companion of conspiracy, not mercy. Mercy was Hope's domain, and Malthael had none of it.
"So, Madawc... did you hear anything?" Kulle's eyes were cold as he looked at the Ancient.
He wouldn't kill Madawc to keep a secret—that would lead to consequences he didn't want. Kulle preferred not to force people. He liked it when people ignored his advice, hit a brick wall, and then realized he was right. That was the basis of a true partnership.
"I heard everything. But I won't say a word." Madawc looked back fearlessly. He didn't play dumb. Kulle wanted an attitude, not a "genius." Kulle was the smartest man among the Nephalem; trying to act clever in front of him was pointless.
"Because Bul-Kathos protects you," Kulle said flatly, watching the power of Hope and the aspect of Anguish finish their fusion.
He used the Barbarian slogan, but for the modern Barbarians, it was no longer just a slogan. It was a reality. Bul-Kathos, who carried the weight of his entire race, was their strongest shield.
"Bul-Kathos protects me!" Madawc said solemnly. He shouldered his sorrow and walked toward the portal left by Kanai's Cube.
He was leaving. Andariel was finished. She wouldn't be resurrected. She wouldn't jump out in the future to cause more grief. Zoltun Kulle had juiced her for every drop of worth. Madawc's goal was complete. No more sacrifices. No more tragedy. He liked this ending.
"Barbarians... truly a lucky bunch," Kulle mused.
The Black Soulstone was finally quiet. Bul-Kathos wouldn't have to listen to Andariel's screaming anymore. The silence made Kulle nostalgic.
"The other half of Bul-Kathos... stay here and wait to be whole again. How lucky... to wake up from a long dream and find that all your wishes have come true."
Kulle's spirit floated out through the light of the Cube. This stage was over.
Thinking of the bewildered look that would eventually be on Diablo's face, Kulle began to laugh. The sound grew louder and louder until it echoed through all of Harrogath—through the holy Mount Arreat, summoned from the past by the power of Time and the shards of the Worldstone.
The Worldstone was once a limiter for the Nephalem. Since its destruction, more and more powerhouses had been born. No longer would the world have to wait centuries for a hero like Leoric to challenge the Heavens and Hells.
But all of this was by the Archangels' design. They could never be fully trusted. Kulle was certain of that.
"Baal! Get on your knees and wait for a Barbarian blade to claim your head!"
Andakulgas panted heavily. He had already entered the state of Wrath of the Berserker. His upturned horns and wild white hair gave him a look of untamed ferocity.
Even though Baal was heavily wounded from Kanai's earlier strike, fighting him was still an uphill battle for Korlic and Madawc. But the end was in sight. Even if Baal and Mephisto were at full strength, the Ancients could hold out until the main army arrived.
"Nephalem! You seek your own destruction!" Baal rasped through his mangled throat.
His domain of Destruction began to expand. Even with Mephisto's absorbed power, Baal couldn't quickly finish off two Ancestors who were willing to burn their very souls to stop him.
"BAAL!!!" Madawc roared.
In the state of Wrath of the Berserker, few Barbarians could maintain their sanity. But that loss of reason brought terrifying power. Madawc was a master of this state. He hadn't traded his sanity permanently like Barnar, but he was no less dangerous.
Striding Giant!
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