162. “Téra.”
The hidden effect of the Fifth Black Art, 'Final Grace', takes both the caster and the target's minds into a spiritual world where time flows considerably faster.
Karaskan looked at himself and saw that his injuries were gone. His surroundings were a 'mortal' warzone. It wasn't like a battlefield created by magic. It was a withered land that suffered mortar and bombardments.
Cartridges on the ground, smoke rising on the horizon, trenches and sandbags, fire and corpses, and a strangely bright sky. Karaskan observed the scenery then looked at the front, at the man blending in this landscape.
Arima was sitting there, on few sandbags, smoking a cigar. He was in his human form and wore a batter version of his coat. He was staring at Karaskan with an emotionless face. The god returned his stare with a smile.
Arima stood up and walked up to Karaskan. "First of all, let me make you understand why you're going to die today," he spoke and punched Karaskan in the stomach. The latter coughed and held his right side as he staggered a few steps back.
He realized with that strike that this world was special. Both his and Arima's physical abilities were not stronger than a normal human. The punch he took was nothing more than a blow made by a human to hurt another.
He was then punched in the jaw, followed by a kick in the ribs, a knee in the stomach… Each time he took a hit, fragments of memory entered his head and anchored themselves as if they were the only true memories that he should ever remember.
When he collapsed on the ground after a final punch, Karaskan laughed and coughed some blood at the same time.
"I…see," he muttered while covering his eyes. "I understand. This is painful indeed…"
Arima snorted and sat down again. "Since we have time, what was the purpose of your Seeds?"
Karaskan snickered and looked at Arima with oddly serene eyes. "You know, I loved this Reality at first."
"This Reality, huh?" Arima scowled.
Karaskan chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard of it by now since you went through quite an eventful Life Judgment."
Arima raised an eyebrow and Karaskan grinned. "The world is bigger than what we can fathom," he said. "I was there, with Azes, Chronos, Odin, and Gaia at the birth of this Reality. We were present along with the other gods from the different planes and the Guardians. I was a regular god back then."
The Mad God told with an unperturbed smile. "I didn't become the 'Mad God' because I wanted revenge or something. After all, I'm one of the first gods, for what would I get revenge? I had the highest authority, no one could get me before I got them."
"When was it? That I started to hate this world…" Karaskan straightened his back and looked at Arima with his bruised face. "Oh, don't misunderstand. I'm quite different from Azes. He's trying to fix things; I just want them to disappear. For me, this world was too ugly, without even taking the gods into account."
As he was talking, a skeleton appeared from thin air just beside Arima. The two had the exact same height and 'shape'. The skeleton's eyes were burning with a red flame, radiating with unrestrained fury. Karaskan's smile became wider when he saw this.
"In any case, you asked me why I created the Seeds of Chaos, right?" He continued. "I just gave you the answer. I was still quite young and didn't know how to face the hate I was feeling for this world. Everything was imperfect, even if there was a balance between light and darkness, I only saw ugliness."
"Both sides were incredibly stupid," Karaskan scorned.
"Bad people? What is that? They're worth nothing. Kill them."
"Good people? How silly is that? They only make things worse. Erase them."
"Pathetic fear wielded by people who don't understand what it really is. You need despair to make others feel horror."
"Nobody needs fairness or rules wielded by simpletons. What people want are justice and impartiality."
"Neither of those types of people could do something so simple."
"Whoever decides to become evil needs to understand what it is to be on the dark side of the coin."
"Whoever chooses to be humane needs to know what it is to fight in the light."
"People who kill for a trivial reason and others who rightfully apprehend those pitiful criminals don't understand anything."
Karaskan looked at both Arima and Malum. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about," he said and Arima answered with silence. Even Malum could only grunt.
"In the end, those despicable ones are worth nothing. Those benevolent ones don't understand anything. If you asked me what a perfect world is, I would answer like so: 'A world where evil and good can respect each other for the very reason that what they're doing is not pointless… that's a perfect world'."
"Darkness and light will never disappear no matter what. True Heaven is pure nonsense, nothing can be relieved from their darkness. True Hell is rubbish, nothing can be devoid of light," he paused.
"…Arimane, the purpose of my Seeds wasn’t to bring destruction. As we speak, they have all disappeared because Pandora is finally opened, but their original goal was to find 'evil' people to kill, and 'good' people to ‘reeducate’."
"In your case, my Seed didn't just attack you for the fun of it. It saw in you a true potential to either become a true bringer of light or darkness," Karaskan said and chuckled.
"No matter what you say, Arimane, you are humane," Karaskan declared. "And right now, you're the good guy while I'm the bad guy."
Both Arima and Malum remained quiet.
"Because of all of that, I created the Seeds to change the world. Then, several thousands of years later, I created the box of Pandora using Hephaestus' abilities. Pandora will now build a true balance. It was designed to spread to the other planes and bring out humans' true nature. Only those cultivated by blood are worth the life this world is offering them," he concluded and sighed.
"Now, I have said everything you wanted to know. You can do anything you want."
"Tch," Arima clicked his tongue. Malum stayed silent and didn't move an inch. "I don't have to do anything. The 'Final Grace' is already in action. You're gonna die. No matter if I leave now or even if I die myself. My revenge was accomplished the second you were struck by the Fifth Art," he explained and Karaskan frowned.
"You didn't notice?" Arima swapped the cigarette he had in his mouth with a lollipop and spoke coldly to the Mad God. He raised both of his hands and showed them.
Karaskan cocked his head to the side and glanced at his own hands just to see that they had somehow vanished. It was the same thing for his feet.
"The moment it gets to your head, you will most likely experience the biggest pain your mind is capable of feeling, continuously, until you die," Arima explained and Karaskan snorted. His legs had disappeared halfway and he was now like a ghost floating above the ground.
"I see. Fascinating. The magic you wield is impressive," he uttered calmly but couldn't help but feel anxious. His body was slowly fading away and now that he knew what would happen once it reached his head, he felt scared for the first time in thousands of years.
"…This place also interferes with my mental fortitude apparently," he commented when he noticed how weakened his willpower was "Are you going to stay there? Watching?"
"Of course, if we don't witness your end, this would be meaningless," Malum scoffed at him and Arima closed his eyes.
"I see, that's fair," Karaskan nodded and his neck started turning transparent. "Let me tell you something before I go. Pandora's 'spawn settings' work like this; the stronger the cumulated aura at one place is, the stronger the Téra will be. And, yes, those monsters are called Téra. A single one of them is called a Téras."
"'Monster' in Greek, huh?" Arima remarked. "How candid."
"Of course; 'monsters', it's exactly what I expect them to be," Karaskan cackled as his neck had finally disappeared. "Right now, the strongest gods are all gathered in Hell, what do you think will happen with those massive auras gathered in a single place? Furthermore, their strength will be boosted by the Original Land."
"Once you get out of here. Prepare yourself for a hard battle…!!" Karaskan suddenly closed his mouth and gritted his teeth. In the next second, he was screaming so intensely that it was possible to misunderstand it for the last cry of a beast.
He vomited and cried blood as he howled in pain. If he still had hands, he would be scarring himself. It's not only the physical pain, but his memories were also being prodded, altered, and deleted. All of it meant to specifically torment him, bring him despair, regret, and fear.
In the end, he was completely broken. His wailing and screeches remained audible even after his entire body had faded. When the voice completely stopped, Arima opened his eyes and snapped his fingers.
The world of the 'Final Grace' started changing. The vestiges of war dissipated and the earth raised a huge mound at the place Karaskan had died. The exact same thing was happening in the outside world. Just after that, a wooden cross fell from the sky and was planted on top of it.
"…You didn't need to do that for that scum," Malum said.
"This is how it works," Arima retorted as he beheld the tomb. "The 'Final Grace' inflicts the greatest pain for the criminal to attain repentance. In exchange, it makes sure that he gets an indestructible tomb," he stood up and looked at the cross.
"Because this is forced repentance… Let me tell you, if he had lived after that, he wouldn't have been able to make the same speech as he did before. Most likely, it would have just been endless apologies. That's how this Art functions. This is respect for the one you dishonored. Mercy."
Malum growled. "I know that already," he said and left immediately after. Arima glanced at the tomb one last time then also left the 'Final Grace'.
There, in an empty battlefield, under a bright sky, rests the grave of the Mad God.
162. “Téra.”
The hidden effect of the Fifth Black Art, 'Final Grace', takes both the caster and the target's minds into a spiritual world where time flows considerably faster.
Karaskan looked at himself and saw that his injuries were gone. His surroundings were a 'mortal' warzone. It wasn't like a battlefield created by magic. It was a withered land that suffered mortar and bombardments.
Cartridges on the ground, smoke rising on the horizon, trenches and sandbags, fire and corpses, and a strangely bright sky. Karaskan observed the scenery then looked at the front, at the man blending in this landscape.
Arima was sitting there, on few sandbags, smoking a cigar. He was in his human form and wore a batter version of his coat. He was staring at Karaskan with an emotionless face. The god returned his stare with a smile.
Arima stood up and walked up to Karaskan. "First of all, let me make you understand why you're going to die today," he spoke and punched Karaskan in the stomach. The latter coughed and held his right side as he staggered a few steps back.
He realized with that strike that this world was special. Both his and Arima's physical abilities were not stronger than a normal human. The punch he took was nothing more than a blow made by a human to hurt another.
He was then punched in the jaw, followed by a kick in the ribs, a knee in the stomach… Each time he took a hit, fragments of memory entered his head and anchored themselves as if they were the only true memories that he should ever remember.
When he collapsed on the ground after a final punch, Karaskan laughed and coughed some blood at the same time.
"I…see," he muttered while covering his eyes. "I understand. This is painful indeed…"
Arima snorted and sat down again. "Since we have time, what was the purpose of your Seeds?"
Karaskan snickered and looked at Arima with oddly serene eyes. "You know, I loved this Reality at first."
"This Reality, huh?" Arima scowled.
Karaskan chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard of it by now since you went through quite an eventful Life Judgment."
Arima raised an eyebrow and Karaskan grinned. "The world is bigger than what we can fathom," he said. "I was there, with Azes, Chronos, Odin, and Gaia at the birth of this Reality. We were present along with the other gods from the different planes and the Guardians. I was a regular god back then."
The Mad God told with an unperturbed smile. "I didn't become the 'Mad God' because I wanted revenge or something. After all, I'm one of the first gods, for what would I get revenge? I had the highest authority, no one could get me before I got them."
"When was it? That I started to hate this world…" Karaskan straightened his back and looked at Arima with his bruised face. "Oh, don't misunderstand. I'm quite different from Azes. He's trying to fix things; I just want them to disappear. For me, this world was too ugly, without even taking the gods into account."
As he was talking, a skeleton appeared from thin air just beside Arima. The two had the exact same height and 'shape'. The skeleton's eyes were burning with a red flame, radiating with unrestrained fury. Karaskan's smile became wider when he saw this.
"In any case, you asked me why I created the Seeds of Chaos, right?" He continued. "I just gave you the answer. I was still quite young and didn't know how to face the hate I was feeling for this world. Everything was imperfect, even if there was a balance between light and darkness, I only saw ugliness."
"Both sides were incredibly stupid," Karaskan scorned.
"Bad people? What is that? They're worth nothing. Kill them."
"Good people? How silly is that? They only make things worse. Erase them."
"Pathetic fear wielded by people who don't understand what it really is. You need despair to make others feel horror."
"Nobody needs fairness or rules wielded by simpletons. What people want are justice and impartiality."
"Neither of those types of people could do something so simple."
"Whoever decides to become evil needs to understand what it is to be on the dark side of the coin."
"Whoever chooses to be humane needs to know what it is to fight in the light."
"People who kill for a trivial reason and others who rightfully apprehend those pitiful criminals don't understand anything."
Karaskan looked at both Arima and Malum. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about," he said and Arima answered with silence. Even Malum could only grunt.
"In the end, those despicable ones are worth nothing. Those benevolent ones don't understand anything. If you asked me what a perfect world is, I would answer like so: 'A world where evil and good can respect each other for the very reason that what they're doing is not pointless… that's a perfect world'."
"Darkness and light will never disappear no matter what. True Heaven is pure nonsense, nothing can be relieved from their darkness. True Hell is rubbish, nothing can be devoid of light," he paused.
"…Arimane, the purpose of my Seeds wasn’t to bring destruction. As we speak, they have all disappeared because Pandora is finally opened, but their original goal was to find 'evil' people to kill, and 'good' people to ‘reeducate’."
"In your case, my Seed didn't just attack you for the fun of it. It saw in you a true potential to either become a true bringer of light or darkness," Karaskan said and chuckled.
"No matter what you say, Arimane, you are humane," Karaskan declared. "And right now, you're the good guy while I'm the bad guy."
Both Arima and Malum remained quiet.
"Because of all of that, I created the Seeds to change the world. Then, several thousands of years later, I created the box of Pandora using Hephaestus' abilities. Pandora will now build a true balance. It was designed to spread to the other planes and bring out humans' true nature. Only those cultivated by blood are worth the life this world is offering them," he concluded and sighed.
"Now, I have said everything you wanted to know. You can do anything you want."
"Tch," Arima clicked his tongue. Malum stayed silent and didn't move an inch. "I don't have to do anything. The 'Final Grace' is already in action. You're gonna die. No matter if I leave now or even if I die myself. My revenge was accomplished the second you were struck by the Fifth Art," he explained and Karaskan frowned.
"You didn't notice?" Arima swapped the cigarette he had in his mouth with a lollipop and spoke coldly to the Mad God. He raised both of his hands and showed them.
Karaskan cocked his head to the side and glanced at his own hands just to see that they had somehow vanished. It was the same thing for his feet.
"The moment it gets to your head, you will most likely experience the biggest pain your mind is capable of feeling, continuously, until you die," Arima explained and Karaskan snorted. His legs had disappeared halfway and he was now like a ghost floating above the ground.
"I see. Fascinating. The magic you wield is impressive," he uttered calmly but couldn't help but feel anxious. His body was slowly fading away and now that he knew what would happen once it reached his head, he felt scared for the first time in thousands of years.
"…This place also interferes with my mental fortitude apparently," he commented when he noticed how weakened his willpower was "Are you going to stay there? Watching?"
"Of course, if we don't witness your end, this would be meaningless," Malum scoffed at him and Arima closed his eyes.
"I see, that's fair," Karaskan nodded and his neck started turning transparent. "Let me tell you something before I go. Pandora's 'spawn settings' work like this; the stronger the cumulated aura at one place is, the stronger the Téra will be. And, yes, those monsters are called Téra. A single one of them is called a Téras."
"'Monster' in Greek, huh?" Arima remarked. "How candid."
"Of course; 'monsters', it's exactly what I expect them to be," Karaskan cackled as his neck had finally disappeared. "Right now, the strongest gods are all gathered in Hell, what do you think will happen with those massive auras gathered in a single place? Furthermore, their strength will be boosted by the Original Land."
"Once you get out of here. Prepare yourself for a hard battle…!!" Karaskan suddenly closed his mouth and gritted his teeth. In the next second, he was screaming so intensely that it was possible to misunderstand it for the last cry of a beast.
He vomited and cried blood as he howled in pain. If he still had hands, he would be scarring himself. It's not only the physical pain, but his memories were also being prodded, altered, and deleted. All of it meant to specifically torment him, bring him despair, regret, and fear.
In the end, he was completely broken. His wailing and screeches remained audible even after his entire body had faded. When the voice completely stopped, Arima opened his eyes and snapped his fingers.
The world of the 'Final Grace' started changing. The vestiges of war dissipated and the earth raised a huge mound at the place Karaskan had died. The exact same thing was happening in the outside world. Just after that, a wooden cross fell from the sky and was planted on top of it.
"…You didn't need to do that for that scum," Malum said.
"This is how it works," Arima retorted as he beheld the tomb. "The 'Final Grace' inflicts the greatest pain for the criminal to attain repentance. In exchange, it makes sure that he gets an indestructible tomb," he stood up and looked at the cross.
"Because this is forced repentance… Let me tell you, if he had lived after that, he wouldn't have been able to make the same speech as he did before. Most likely, it would have just been endless apologies. That's how this Art functions. This is respect for the one you dishonored. Mercy."
Malum growled. "I know that already," he said and left immediately after. Arima glanced at the tomb one last time then also left the 'Final Grace'.
There, in an empty battlefield, under a bright sky, rests the grave of the Mad God.
