Chương 110: Chapter 105-The Unchosen Fate

An evil-looking crow caws as it lands in the desolate ruins. Amongst the darkness, a solitary young man sits in the ruins. Catching his breath, he looks down at the now slain Tyranus. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he lets out a sigh. This is his moment of reprieve. The smallest moment that he can afford. A young woman suddenly appears from thin air.

"I see you've dispatched the Calamity. As expected from The Chosen One," she says with a familiar smile.

"Oh, shut it. If you start calling me Chosen One, I'll start calling you Archmage," The Chosen One says with an annoyed smile.

"Ok, I get it… Chosen One," the Archmage says as she sits next to him.

"I'm guessing you're not just here for a social call," he says as he cleans the blood off The Chosen Blade.

"I would love it if that were the case. We haven't hung out in a while," she says with a cheery tone.

"The end of the world will do that," he says as he looks up at the cracking sky. The Archmage follows his gaze.

"The Princess of Ruin has called for aid. It seems that the Hope Devourer has started to move," she says with a serious tone. The Chosen One's eyes stay fixed on the purple cracks.

"Why now? It hasn't left the Sands since it escaped its prison."

"It was the Envyborn, or at least that's what the Princess of Ruin says," the Archmage explains as her eyes land on Tyranus.

"That asshole is still alive? I guess what they say is true. She really does have nine lives," he says with a hint of anger.

"Not to be rude, but how did you manage to come out unscathed?" she asks as her eyes trace his body.

"I almost didn't. I got lucky, a Vashrin was wandering through here and saved my ass when [Unbreakable] broke," The Chosen One says.

"A Vashrin? All the way out here? Are you sure he wasn't trying to kill you instead of trying to save you?" the Archmage asks.

"No, I don't think he was working with the forces of evil. Rather, it seemed like he was robbing the old Imperial vault. He just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, or rather, the right time for me," he says as he stands up.

"Like that's going to be worth much soon. Still, how did a Vashrin get past Tyranus? It's not like she's keen on anybody entering her territory," she reminds.

"Would you understand if I told you what the color of his eyes was?" The Chosen One says with a cocky grin.

"You've got to be shitting me. The Red-Eyed Vashrin. I thought he was a myth. A folk tale told by vagrants and criminals. You're telling me he really exists?" she asks with a hint of amazement.

"At the very least, a Vashrin with red eyes exists. He seemed nice. Even gave me this pouch filled-" The Chosen One opens the pouch to find nothing inside, "Odd, I was sure there were Platinum coins inside."

"Where's your coin pouch?" she asks. In surprise, he pats himself down, finding nothing.

"I think he stole my gold!" The Archmage starts to laugh until she starts to cough. The cough starts small until it grows and grows. The Chosen One gently soothes her back as she hacks up blood.

"It's gotten worse," The Chosen One says with a somber tone.

"It's not that bad. Doesn't everyone cough up a little blood if they breathe just a little too hard?" she asks sarcastically.

"We need to find The Plague Rat before it's too late," he says as he grabs The Chosen Blade.

"Wait. We don't even know where the Rat is, and the Princess of Ruin needs our help first. We both know that if the last bastion of good falls, there won't be any point in stopping The Plague Rat," she says as she wipes the blood from her mouth.

"You'll die before we deal with that. I'm not losing you too. We've already lost enough."

"I'm not more important than the last bastion of good."

"You are to me," The Chosen One says without missing a beat. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Don't you dare say that. Our friends have died for us to get this far. So, don't you dare throw away their sacrifices. Do you understand me?" the Archmage asks with a hint of anger.

"Yes. I understand… So, where are we meeting her?" The Chosen One asks as he grips his blade.

"The Southern Isles. We'll regroup there and then launch our attack on The Hope Devourer before it even makes landfall," she says as she grabs his hand. The Chosen One looks back at the ruins of the city.

"Did you know I was there when Tyranus destroyed the capital? I think I was standing over there," he says as he points in the distance. The Archmage looks back at him.

"I didn't know that. After all, we met in the refugee camps after the fall."

"When I survived, I thought I was lucky, but the lucky ones died that day," he says as he looks up at the cracking sky.

"Remember, we don't fight today for today. We fight for tomorrow. Things may look bad, but soon enough we'll finally turn the tide against the forces of evil," she says as she looks, "After we're finished with that… we can… I mean, we should… I'll let you make me your most important person." With a smile, The Chosen One squeezes her hand.

"Then we'd better win soon." As the two of them disappear from sight, the crow flies up towards the sky. Passing over miles and miles of Blighted land, the crow is sniped out of the air. Gerta walks out of the nearby outlook. She keeps watch on the capital in the distance. It stands tall, stands safe, except for the University's broken clock tower. If she hadn't seen it herself, she wouldn't believe that a Calamity had just been there mere minutes ago.

It had been centuries since she had seen such a peaceful scenery after a Calamity.

"I know you're there," Gerta says to the void. Abrigon steps out of the brush with a satisfied smile.

"Did you call?" Keeping her eyes on the capital, she shakes her head.

"What is that boy?" she asks with a hint of worry.

"The Chosen One, of course," Abrigon lies. Turning to him, she glares.

"You know what I mean. How was that boy able to change fate? Not even the Gods can do that."

"There is much the Gods can not do. Isn't that why they created us?" Abrigon asks as he sidesteps the question. She shakes her head in frustration.

"You are pushing on the boundaries of what we are allowed to do. Interfering in mortal matters is one thing. Releasing a Calamity is another," she says pointedly.

"I have no idea what you speak of. I only nudged things along to their natural conclusion. No more, no less. It breaks none of the rules, and The Chosen One took care of the Calamity," he reminds her.

"Why are you doing this? What do you gain from this?" Gerta asks.

"That's a secret that I can't tell even you," Abrigon says as he turns to the brush.

"They will not be happy if you continue in whatever your plans are. Need I remind you what happened the last time?" she says with a hint of worry.

"I will never forget," he says as the brush parts to reveal a familiar figure. The Wrathborn stumbles out of the brush, barely able to keep his balance.

"My lord? What are you doing here? Did the council send you?" he asks in fear.

"Yes, they did. They are gravely disappointed in your failure in dispatching of The Chosen One," Abrigon says as he looks down on the Wrathborn. The Wrathborn slams his head to the ground in fear.

"I greatly apologize. I would've finished the job, but this Chosen One is formidable. I have not seen one like him in hundreds of years, but if you give me one more chance, I'm sure I can kill The Chosen One," he grovels.

"I'm sure you would, and I'm sure the Council would forgive you," he says as his eyes glow purple.

"Then, I can-""Which means I have to dispatch of you now before you become a hindrance to my plan. I thank you for your service," Abrigon says with a smile. The Wrathborn, not wasting a second, sends his acid-laced blood swords straight into Abrigon. They pierce and stab their way up Abrigon's body. Even a particular nasty-looking sword finds its home deep in Abrigon's brain. Trying to catch his breath, the Wrathborn falls to one knee.

"That should've done the deal." Abrigon wraps his hand around the blade in his head and pulls it out.

"A truly annoying [Skill], but not one that could kill me. Trust me, I've tried. It seems The Chosen One truly did a number on you. I might not even have to kill you myself."

"How? How are you still alive, Lord B-" With a flick of Abrigon's finger, the Wrathborn's head is ripped clean off.

"He attacked me first," Abrigons says to Gerta.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you thought it."

"..." Wrathborn LvL. 63 has been Defeated. Abrigon shakes his head as he walks to the brush, but then suddenly stops.

"That boy is a normal boy. If you're asking me, I would've probably picked someone else, but I now see what The Chosen One was speaking of. He truly can change fate." Silence hangs between them as Abrigon leaves the brush. Gerta continues to stare at the capital, and she watches as a pink dragon flies towards the city.