Chapter 15: The Oil Slick
On the rain-soaked battlefield, I stood tall over the silence I had created. The phantom chain that bound me to my own echo was a mockery, a weightless relic of my former slavery. For the first time in eons, every fiber of my being, every particle of shadow that made me up, vibrated with absolute, unadulterated freedom.
I lifted my head and sniffed the air.
The world was on fire. The smell of war was thick, a nauseating soup of spilled blood, ozone of celestial magic, sulfur of hellfire, and, above all, the stench of fear. Millions of souls screamed in a chorus of agony that echoed through the planes of existence.
Before, it had been a background noise, the distant rumble of a storm that did not concern me. Now, it was an invitation. A feast. The entire universe had become my hunting ground.
He was no longer tied to a hundred-meter circle. The world was my territory. And it was infested with intruders.
I disbanded. My physical form collapsed into a stain of darkness that spilled over the mud and blood, and then I flowed. I traveled through the world's web of shadows, not as a prisoner tugging on his leash, but as a king roaming his domains. I moved toward the epicenter of the nearest conflict, drawn by the densest stench of death and power.
I emerged into a valley that had been plucked from hell.
The sky was torn, an open wound from which golden and crimson lights bled. The ground was a quagmire of craters, shattered bodies, and broken armor. Thousands of demons, a horde of claws and horns, crashed into a legion of angels, a wall of shields of light, and swords of fire. In the center, a Duke-class demon, wearing bone armor and an axe dripping with black flames, fought an angel of the Powers class, its six white wings creating a whirlwind of feathers and holy fury.
They were two colliding tides of power, caught in a stalemate of mutual hatred. And then, a third tide came.
I materialized in the center of the valley, between the two armies, from the shadow cast by the demonic Duke's own flag. My appearance was instantaneous and total. One moment he was gone, and the next, a mountain of night and primordial fury stood in the midst of the battle.
For an instant, the war stopped.
Demons and angels alike froze, their weapons half-brandished, their faces a mixture of confusion and instinctive terror. They turned to look at me, the anomaly, the third player who didn't belong to any faction.
"Intruders," my voice echoed in the mind of every being in the valley, a growl that was both a judgment and a sentence. "All of you. In my territory."
And then, I unleashed.
I didn't choose a side. They were all the same to me. Obstacles. Dams.
The shadow under my paws exploded outward, not like a wave, but like a tsunami of tentacles. Hundreds of tendrils of solid darkness, sharp as spears, sprouted from the ground. They pierced through the ranks of demons, impaling bodies, crushing bone armor as if they were eggshells. Simultaneously, other tentacles rose into the air, lashing at angels, their sharp tips piercing feathered wings and shields of light.
The screams of agony from both sides became a symphony to my ears. It was the first time I used my power without the restraint of a host, without the need to be subtle. It was glorious.
The demonic Duke and the angel of Powers, their own forgotten duels, turned on me, acknowledging the greater threat.
"Unclean beast! What are you?!" the Duke roared, his black fire axe cutting through the air toward me.
"Abomination of darkness! You will be purged!" the angel sang, a spear of pure light materializing in his hand.
I ignored the angel. I focused on the devil. I let his axe come closer. Just before impact, I opened my jaws. Not to bite. To devour.
A vortex of pure blackness formed in my throat. The black fire axe, and the arm that wielded it, were sucked into the void. The Duke howled in pain and surprise as his weapon and limb disappeared, not cut off, but erased from existence.
I took advantage of his shock. In the blink of an eye, I crossed the distance between us. My shadow claw, now the size of a man, struck him in the chest. He didn't cut it. He crushed it. His bone armor shattered, his ribs pulverized, and his body was thrown backwards like that of a ragdoll, crashing into the midst of his own terrified troops.
Then, I turned to the angel.
He was floating in the air, his face a mask of horror and disbelief. He pointed his spear of light at me. "In the name of...!"
I didn't let him finish.
My own shadow rose behind me, imitating my form, a colossal replica of myself made of pure night. It was one of the first techniques I had perfected in my solitude. An echo of power.
The echo rushed over the angel. Its six wings of light fought against the tendrils of shadow, but it was useless. The darkness enveloped him, drowning out his light, silencing his prayers. There was a final flash of sacred power, and then, nothingness. The echo had completely consumed him.
I stood in the center of the valley, now a silent cemetery. The ground was covered with mangled bodies, bloody feathers, and demonic ichor. The few survivors, a handful of trembling demons and angels, had fled in opposite directions, their minds broken, babbling tales of an oil slick, of a primordial god of the night who had descended to consume the war itself.
I felt the power of the souls I had consumed flow to me, not to feed me, but to be added to my domain. Every life I took, every spark of power I extinguished, became one more drop in the ocean of my Dimension of Darkness.
I lifted my head to the torn sky and howled.
It was not the howl of a wolf. It was the roar of a concept. A sound that did not travel through the air, but through the fabric of reality itself. A statement.
It was a declaration that a new king had claimed his throne. A king without a crown, without a kingdom and without subjects. Just an infinite hunger and an entire universe to devour.
The Great War had a new player. And he didn't play to win. He played to consume.
With one last look at the field of my carnage, I dissolved back into the shadows, my appetite barely awakened, my consciousness already searching for the next and greatest battlefield.
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Hello everyone!
Sorry if I've been a bit quiet lately. I started a new job that is taking up a lot of my time, so I haven't had as much time to write and edit as I would like.
However, I managed to make good progress this weekend.
Here on Webnovel, the schedule will remain the same: 1 chapter from Monday to Friday.
For those supporting me on Patreon, I will be publishing 2 daily chapters during this week to make up for the delay.
Thanks for reading and for your patience.
Mike.
@Patreon/iLikeeMikee