Chương 127: CHAPTER 125 - To Be An Epic Hero

A shadow loomed over the boy, now mute. Labored breaths and the warm breeze, bearer of new, thin, light grains, broke the silence of the oasis. The large man with dark, thick skin smiled under the sun, waiting for the carcass at his feet to recover.

"Lance… By now you can't do anything more for Noel." A swing raised a blanket of dust, sending the birds fleeing toward the horizon.

"Shut up! What do you know!" Finally, Lance raised his gaze. His reddened eyes streamed with blood and tears. He ground his teeth, occasionally letting the sand stuck to his face fall away.

"What are you to think you know something?!" Noel smiled, pointing toward the sun. As soon as Lance turned, he noticed three stars. The light emanated from a white glow, yet behind it, almost masked by the brightness, were two other bodies. One black as tar, the other blood red.

"I am a replica constructed through your ability. Your body collapsed, and Noel Rayes became dust and returned to Hel. Currently, we are inside your core." The copy helped Lance back to his feet. Staggering, he recognized in the distance the thin grayish filaments dancing under the heat.

"And so? Is it the same thing that happened with Laure?" The fake Noel shook his head and began to walk toward the mirror of water.

"Laure's consciousness remained until the end. You were the one who ended her life. Noel died from the moment the first transformation occurred. You only absorbed part of Laure's Frequencies, but with him you barely managed to create a copy." The waters parted, and Noel began to descend them calmly, beckoning Lance with his hand.

"So you're another damn voice in my head?" The damp steps echoed beneath them as the light gave way to dense darkness. In the little visibility remaining, Noel shook his head.

"No, we are only temporary copies. It's like watching a film or reading a book of our memories. We will disappear once you have internalized our last wishes." A new, vigorous sun enveloped Lance's face, trying to chase away the grim omens weighing on him.

"This was my home. The east of Turgnevet, beyond the great green barrier." Lance noticed the large, colorful spires soaring toward the sky, casting their shadows on the yellowish, cubit-sized houses, screened in turn by hundreds of drapes and cloths of a thousand patterns and colors. People cloaked in white and black veils populated the cobblestone streets. Without realizing it, the staircase behind him had vanished, leaving them in the center of the market. New odors took hold in the torrid air.

Some sweet, others pungent, even irritating. A stall to his right could be mistaken for a painting. So many were the tints arranged in the oblong glass jars.

"Here we are in the capital, Šahrzād. However, my father and I lived farther away, in a village known as Saum. If I remember correctly, it was market day. New goods had finally arrived." Lance bumped into a veiled woman, but she didn't seem to react, merely continuing her shopping. A necklace of bluish gems slipped between her delicate fingers.

"Incredible, I had no idea this was a city of another nation. It's all so… unique." Wherever the boy rested his gaze, new colors and new sensations began to imprint themselves on his mind. From silks delicate as snow to powders that tattooed the skin. Colorful birds preened their feathers, perched on the wood. Noel chuckled as Lance remembered.

"The world is immense! Ten lives wouldn't be enough to experience it all! From art to cuisine, from women to men, from nature to society, from good and evil, one cannot hope to see everything. This is the intrinsic beauty of this diverse world. Humanity is truly a strange mosaic, don't you think?" Lance smiled, covering his face to stare again at that strange sun.

"A mosaic in which we have no place?" Noel stared at him with his head tilted, then placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. He burst out laughing with double the clamor, wiping his tears with his free fingers.

"But no! We are the warped pieces at the edges. There are as many forms of humanity as there are fish in the sea." The market seemed to accelerate, and the sun moved unnaturally.

"I'll show you something." Suddenly the market emptied, revealing two figures: a slightly chubby boy with two baskets full of fabrics, spices, tomes, and vegetables, and a woman dressed in a veil black as night, yet vaguely transparent. Beneath that fabric, Lance noticed the muscle insertions and the thick legs.

"Have you already taken everything? How good my Naail is!" Calmly, she grabbed the smiling boy, rubbing her cheek against his.

"Naail?" Lance turned toward Noel, his lips wrapped in a vague smile.

"Noel Ryes is a false name. Originally I was called Naail Rabah. In our language, it means 'He who will be victor.' Did you see the woman? She's my mother! The beloved and controversial Jalila, of noble lineage." Lance remained staring at that little picture between mother and son.

"So that's how a mother loves her child…" A sigh accompanied the forming of the smile.

"My father was a fortunate man. He was a historian whose words carried significant weight in the capital. A very cultured and disciplined man, but also very kind." The scene changed rapidly, and now Lance found himself immersed in a study with a wide table, set with food unknown to him and dark drinks. Heavy volumes bound in grayish leather populated the smooth floor. Noel's entire family laughed and ate, setting out discussions on this and that.

"Ah… The scent of Fesenjan. What a wonderful memory!"

"Honestly, I believe this was the second best period of my life." Noel joined the conversation, caressing his mother's head with his hand, who, without reaction, continued talking with his younger version.

"But not all beautiful things can last without a struggle. That too is part of the mosaic, Lance. All tragedies have a flavor and a rough nuance." A freezing breeze crossed the room, projecting them into the middle of a muddy, dark forest. Rustles and hisses surrounded them as a crowd of people writhed and twisted to escape.

"Helspawn? A singularity this large here?" Noel shook his head as oblong, distorted figures followed the screams, leaping from tree to tree.

"It's not that easy to explain, but it's no different from the phenomenon Ofione manifested. It's a Major Singularity, something that has by now become an integral part of our world." Noel pointed his finger, and Lance finally saw it: a colossal beam of purple and violet pierced the sky, projecting clouds charged with otherworldly forms and white lightning. A thin grayish patina accumulated on them.

"I imagine you know about Ofione because you're in my mind, but I've never seen anything so absurd. That ominous beam is made of Frequency? However hard I try, I can't see beyond that blanket…" Noel began to walk, and almost instinctively the boy followed him.

"Yes, it's the great cataclysm afflicting my native land. You can't see it, but many say that at the center of that storm there is a colossal tree, and at its center a terrifying beast that gurgles and writhes in its own guts." Lance swallowed, feeling numerous screams spread along with the metallic taste of blood.

"This is where my exodus began…" Lance looked away from the massacre for a moment, covering his mouth." You never get used to certain things…" Noel shook his head, gazing at the red drops being avidly drunk by the trees.

"I don't believe that… History shows us that man has become quite used to massacres. It's a matter of time." Suddenly the screams stopped, and everything was replaced by noisy chewing and the creaking of bones. Around them, among the brush and in the mud, bodies were torn and ripped apart by ferocious claws and mandibles. Whatever it was that ingested the muscles and drank the blood was not human, but not a beast of Hel either.

"They're not Helspawn…" Lance felt a slime catch in his throat as they saw one of those beasts crush a fat, blood-irrigated eyeball between its teeth. Another avidly scraped ribs, drinking the pulp of organs and muscle accumulated in the cavity.

"Yes… Those are human. The singularity creates a pathogen, and this is the initial stage. NOIR tried to investigate, but it's truly incredible how little we know about the reality beyond our world." The screams resumed, interrupting the lavish meal.

"Initial? These beasts are far worse than a classic Helspawn!" Noel nodded, moving undisturbed through the horde despite his imposing bulk.

"I've heard stories of intelligent beasts that prey on and enslave humans, and turn them into livestock. There's talk of a certain C ourt. The situation is so grave that people beyond the forest have begun to form veritable militias. They were called the Strigoi, if I'm not mistaken." A faint, dancing light illuminated the forest darkness, accompanied by Noel's sigh.

"But then… They're far worse than a Teufel! If one of these beasts should reach Andimica…" Lance bumped into Noel's back, motionless before the writhing lantern.

"Away! Run! Naail, take your father away." Behind the woman holding the lantern, the same one who that morning had seemed a ray of sunshine, trembled a boy, his arms wrapped around his father's wrist, the man aching on the ground.

"Mom… I… I." The woman turned, smiling as the frightened creatures advanced and retreated upon contact with the light.

"I love you, Mom…" These words were murmured by the adult Noel as he watched his younger version forcibly drag his weeping father away. Lance looked away as soon as the lantern went out, covering his ears.

"And so I watched as the source of my life and passions was gnawed and gutted while I ran." Behind him, Lance was growing paler and paler, murmuring something to shield himself from the noise echoing around.

"It's all right… You can't change the past, Lance." Noel gently took him by the shoulder, leading him away from the lush darkness. As soon as the boy opened his eyes, a salty breeze hit his face, carrying with it the smell of sand and fish offal. A great din resounded along the damp, muddy path. Large carcasses were thrown onto the black sand before the butcher teams pounced on them. Large cubic pieces of pinkish fat and whitish meat were loaded onto dark wooden carts.

"This is the first capital, Salem… A truly uninviting place, in my opinion." Brick houses occupied their backs, accompanied by sharp grayish spires. Piles of black ash emerged from the narrow rock alleys, impregnating the air with an acrid, pungent odor.

"Never seen beasts so big…" Lance murmured, staring at the grayish, smooth skin of the mutilated creatures. The snout was sharklike, perhaps slightly more pointed, with three rows of teeth and strange bony growths near the nasal bulbs. A mephitic odor escaped the innards, forcing everyone present to bring a damp cloth to their faces.

"They are a rare species of carnivorous whales that swarm in the depths of the Black Sea. This region of Turgnevet has made hunting a very profitable business, especially because the powder from their bones seems to have reactions similar to those of Lambdite." Lance narrowed his eyes, perceiving faint sparks inside the massive ribs.

"Come on! We need new ammunition at the front! Carmilla's forces are advancing!" Noel stared with a grimace at the old man busy shouting and smoking almost in unison. His uniform was dirty and torn, and he was missing both his right hand and left leg. From afar, Lance watched heavy pistons grind what remained of the previous beasts. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"They're using them to make weapons?" Noel nodded, resuming walking.

"My father and I managed to escape this nation just before the war reached its peak. I don't know how it ended, but from what I understand from Lucas's investigations, it's a perpetual massacre on both fronts." They moved aside a makeshift curtain, from which emerged a bulbous arm stuffed with pus and black liquid.

"If that's the situation, why didn't NOIR intervene earlier?" Noel stared at him, scratching his chin, drawing ever closer to the port.

"Don't think NOIR has the potential to save the world. Singularities spread like oil stains across the world, and not all countries are equipped. NOIR struggles to manage the archipelago, and the same is true for the empire of Termìe and Northest. The world is falling apart under our malice, Lance." A chorus of cries rose from the noisy, foam-rich sea.

"By now we are transitioning into a new epoch, and the old must disappear. This is the inevitable cycle of this reality. The future awaiting the man of tomorrow is dark and rich in blood." On the ships, dozens of people writhed, occupying more space than could exist. Sweaty, bandaged bodies piled on top of each other under the sun, seeking a breath of air.

"COME ON, DOGS! DO YOU WANT TO LIVE OR NOT?" A man whipped the air, hanging from the top of the mainmast of an old airship. Heavy black ropes bound the small fleet, casting grim shadows on the rough sea.

"You left together with all these people?" Lance felt a knot almost form in his stomach, staring at all that human pulp writhing like snakes. Once the engines roared and belched black fumes, some figures slipped into the water, desperately waving their arms in the dark foam.

"Desperation drives survival. You should know that." The colossus smiled as the surrounding air seemed to shatter. A familiar salty smell of moss brought Lance home.

"This is a beach of Sector II!" Noel nodded, pointing his finger toward the smoke and flames. Some tried to pull charred bodies from the wreckage, while others ran off into the dark woods. The spectral moon cast its trembling light on the candid grains.

"We set off with a couple hundred, but besides my father and me, I can only remember seven faces. The storm and the hunger were atrocious." Beside them, a father and son dragged themselves, wounded, onto the unknown land.

"The beginning was certainly not the best. But at least Andimica at the time needed archaeologists and architects, so my father found work relatively quickly. Yet the hardship made him grow bitter of life." The scene changed again, and now the two found themselves in a place completely unknown to Lance. A large tower with a clock indicated noon with fierce chimes. Beneath his soles, a thick, dry reddish sand formed the base of a square plaza, with some white lines.

"And where is this?" Noel walked toward the crowd of children in pink and blue aprons. At their feet was someone, curled up like a worm as he was kicked and beaten.

"This is a school in Sector II." The young Noel was at the mercy of those hands and those legs, so slender. He was indeed a boy, but still of decidedly imposing bulk. He took the blows without tears or cries, in complete silence.

"This… happens in all schools?"

"Only if you're different from them." Lance clenched his fists, slowly approaching the crowd, feeling his fingers tremble under the strain.

"It's useless. You can't do anything here, anyway." Noel laughed, scratching his massive neck.

"Here bullying was less intense than in the center of Sector II, so I got used to it." Lance shook his head, forcefully trampling the red sand.

"Why… Is this what would happen to us, Metas, if we were ever discovered?" Lance's thoughts shifted to his little sister, by now ever more evanescent in his memory.

"Lance, after time I understood why people fear what's different. Because it frightens them. That's why everyone fears tomorrow and tries to escape, because in the end they don't know what role they will have under another sun." The children disappeared, leaving only Noel with a very worn and dirty leather bag in his hand. Despite the bruises, he smiled, holding in his free fingers an old text with a greenish cover.

"My father was obsessed only with the Dark Age and considered these epic stories inferior and useless… Yet they gave me the strength to go on." The young Noel was now before a wooden door, asymmetrical with numerous scratches. They were in a clearing, in a more isolated and elevated wooded area. A dry wind moved the tall, thick trees. The boy entered, and immediately the smell of liquor and sweat invaded their nostrils. At their feet, dozens of papers and documents lay scattered, some greasy, others torn.

"This place is a pigsty…" Noel nodded as he silently watched his younger version grab a chunk of hard bread and sit in silence beside a fat, almost bald man with small, dull eyes behind double-lens glasses. He glanced at the silent child, and a vein swelled just above his eye.

"Still with these shitty little stories! Go to work and bring more alcohol! Or are you as useless as those filthy bastards at the excavation site!" Before he could bring his lips to the meal, a violent slap sent him crashing onto the dirty floorboards. He didn't move, even as he was being kicked.

"I pay for your school, and you still don't do a damn useful thing! You're like all the retarded children of these shitty islands! Damn it, just because I'm new, everyone thinks they know more than me… I WORKED FOR A KING, DAMN IT!" Under the brutal series of blows gifted by his father, the young man's eyes never left the greenish spine and those yellowed pages.

"He was always like that when he drank. My father was dissatisfied with everything and everyone, and his obsession didn't help. He, too, like me, suffered bullying at his workplace." The moon fell too quickly, and now the memories showed the young Noel, covered in bruises, reading under the light of a faint lamp.

"I loved this book. The secret history of Andimica and how monsters and heroes populated the Dark Age. My favorite was Evans, a holy knight who faced a devil that infested the seas of the archipelago." The blood froze in Lance's veins.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking… Evans was one of the characters with ties to Nikola, along with Dyer." Noel turned, smiling at Lance.

"Impossible… They're legends, the Dark Age…" Lance shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"Anyone can fill an empty story. Yet you and Lucas have proof that something very grim swept over these lands centuries ago." As Lance nervously scratched his cheek, he failed to realize the scene had shifted. Noel's father had his son's neck between his double fingers, pushing him along with his head against the floor. A sinister glint shone between his fingers, long and thin. Noel's thick arms tried to hold the man's wrist still, scratching the hairy skin with his nails.

Tears streamed copiously from his little eyes as the saliva of a scream soiled his face.

"Why weren't you the one who died! Your mother deserved much more in life! Yet she abandoned me too! She left me with you!" The knife descended further, and in the scuffle, a bottle of violet liquor soaked the wood.

"I kept you because you were the only thing I had left of that bitch… But you're a filthy piece of shit! If you die today, the world will be better!" His eyes darted from one side of the socket to the other, dilated and swollen with blood. He noticed the book beside the boy and laughed.

"You like this shit?! How many times have I told you it's just crap!" He lifted Noel and kicked the book away, throwing it straight into the crackling fireplace of scratched, dirty bricks. The pages turned to flame and soon red and black patches spread across the greenish cover.

"NOOO!" The boy thrashed, frantically stretching his hands toward the pressing fire.

"Enough now! Shut up!" The father struck him on the forehead with the handle of the knife. Splashes of blood colored the room. Noel's eyes blazed as soon as they met his father's. With a strength never seen, the boy pushed the man away, making the blade slip from his hands. He hit his head against the table, remaining dazed on the floor.

"You'll pay for this… YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" He stood up sharply, finding himself with the knife planted in his left eye. He thrashed, tearing the night with a harrowing scream. He muttered curses and insults, but little Noel could only stare at him with wide eyes, as if the one before him was no longer a man. He took a heavy tome and approached.

"Noel…" Without warning, the child sank the block of pages onto his dad's head, sending him to the ground again. He struck and struck, driving the metal deeper and deeper. Blow after blow, the body jerked, stirring the pool of blood. Blow after blow, Noel began to ignore the heat behind his back. Blow after blow, the house was enveloped in flames. The young man, his back red and his clothes burned, emerged under an unsettling white sun. The forest was an endless field of yellowish wheat.

A salty breeze moved the stalks, swaying to the rhythm of the sky. The boy began to run, tears in his eyes. One arm forward and one behind, and soon the house was no longer visible. At his side appeared a magnificent stallion with a coat and powerful white wings, saddled and carried by a great knight in golden armor. The slender lance, decorated like a column, shone under the sky. Thousands of figures, half human and half animal, populated that expanse, laughing and running with the boy.

A massive black wing darkened the sky, and the smell of sulfur began to hover in the air. Beautiful, young sirens swam in the earth as if it were the most crystalline of waters, accompanying the boy's cries with their tears. Soon, all trace of little Noel was lost. Lance knelt, weeping on the threshold of the door. The great Noel placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Don't despair; this forest has seen far worse scenes." He helped him up as they moved inside a warehouse in the capital. The boy was swollen, red, with thick veins. His face was bestial, with large fangs and eyes devoid of irises, like a globe of veins. He writhed as a mass of water squeezed him tighter and tighter.

"PLEASE! NOEL IS NOT A MONSTER!" A young but very recognizable voice made Lance turn. A young man with sharp eyes and pale skin was also caught in the grip of the water. At his feet, a blade of very fine craftsmanship lay unsheathed.

"What the fuck… I'll do it only because your father was a great man." A man cloaked in a green cape with very long hair sighed, approaching Noel with a syringe.

"It was Maliard and Hoku who saved me from the fury that had pervaded my body. I owe them much." Lance, at this point, was brutally scratching his head, shaking it between one moan and another.

"It's time to say goodbye, though… One must settle accounts when one's life is about to be extinguished." The two found themselves in the same infinite wheat field, with the same breeze.

"Noel… I…" The big man placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling. Lance paled when he saw how reduced his body was: the skin was scaly and cracked, revealing the fat beneath, while the torso had been completely pierced and still had some crystalline shards in the soft, reddish tissues.

"Yes, Lance… You killed me, but don't feel sadness!" Lance raised his head, meeting his dear friend smiling and laughing.

"Have you ever heard of historical recurrences? It's the concept that human history is forced to rebuild itself cyclically. Once there was a republic in the kingdom of Andimica, then a monarchy, and then again a republic, though these are just theories…" He chuckled as he spoke, waving his arms as if on a stage.

"In that span of time, a hero lived. He suffered and was abandoned in the Dark Age without anyone knowing anything about him, yet I believe that he was the one who saved us from the true darkness that is never told. You could be just like him!" The breeze intensified, shaking the field and carrying with it an almost sweet odor. Lance stared at him with tears in his eyes, his head bowed ever lower.

"Don't cry, Lance! I loved my life. My ability was a sick mess. Without Lucas, I would have reached the end of the line much sooner. I'm happy to have known all of you!" The boy's sobs multiplied, joining Noel's laughter. He took Lance's shoulders, smiling and shaking him. Thunderous laughter accompanied everything.

"Lance… Don't let destiny play nasty tricks on you. You are strong…" His golden eyes shone as he looked at his friend. With effort, he clenched his hands around Noel's.

"I've always thought so from the first moment I saw you… You will be the hero of this epoch just as Dyer was! You will be the hero!" A tear decorated Noel's face as he spoke.

"You are strong! You can fight destiny! Please, Lance, lead humanity into an epoch where no one has to suffer like this! Defeat destiny and bring dawn to a new world!" The breeze grew so strong that Lance fell backward. The golden stalks enveloped Noel's figure. Only his smile remained visible in the storm.

"Hey Lance… Tell Hoku I'll wait for him and excuse him if he hates you. We humans are peculiar creatures!"

"Noel, wait, please! I'm sorry!" He stretched out his hand, but when he tried to touch the wheat, he found his fingertip cut by metal. What had just cut his finger was Noel's old chainsaw, Sazerac, now embedded in the earth where his father had once fought. Lance turned white, slowly bending down until his forehead touched the dusty ground. The air smelt of iron and rotten meat. This was the reality where he had fought not so long ago.

"Tux…" He scraped the earth, sobbing. Immediately after, he continued with increasing force, tearing away the skin and nails of his fingers. Two red lines formed beside him.

"TUX! GIVE ME AN EXPLANATION! PLEASE!" He tore at his hair, brutally striking his face every time his eyes fell on the blade before him. Every wound healed, continuing his agony. In that gigantic region of concrete and iron dispersed in the atmosphere, however, no one could console the cries of that young man, by now lost to life.