ROTLE- Chapter 196- How It Should Be (Patreon)

The world caved under the weight of the roar. In the distance even Nosrath buckled, unable to fight against the summoned familiars climbing all over it, seeking to kill it. As for those freed of Aiden’s manifesting skill, [Enchanted World], they went back down to the ground as if pressed by the very pressure of the world.

The trees stilled, life paused, and everything succumbed to the force of the Immortal.

Aiden’s interface popped up.

[The Immortal has used skill Wail of the Immortal]

…

[You have received debuff: Pain of the Trespasser]

…

[Skill Resilience detected]

[You have high enough Resilience]

[You have resisted debuff Pain of the Trespasser]

The interface was of no use. Aiden already knew this as he coughed up more blood. His resilience kept him on his knees as pain from using [Fragmented Tongue] tore through his body. The sound of the Immortal’s roar did not shake him, but his pain kept him on his knees.

His mind had run through everything before he’d finally used the skill. Every weapon in his arsenal that his mana and stamina could carry had failed to put the Immortal down. So, he had gambled on Valdan, instructed him that once the Immortal was done, it was his job to take his head. The enchantment of dismemberment he had used had failed to decapitate him, but Aiden guessed that it was because the man had been on his feet. If he was on his knees, then Valdan would have better luck.

In their last fight, the Immortal had reacted to [Fragmented Tongue]. Aiden had expected him to react in the same way. If he fell to his knees, Valdan’s sword would take his head and gravity would pull it down.

It was all for naught as Valdan dropped to his knee, face contorted in pain.

He would live. Aiden knew this, even as someone’s head exploded somewhere out on the clearing. With nobody close enough to take the Immortal’s head, Aiden pulled himself to his feet. Somebody had to do it. Someone had to slay the Immortal.

His eyes focused and the roar died out.

Sir Aido Baragon was looking at him, a bloody grin on his lips. “Rise, boy,” he commanded, power in his broken voice, “you have a job to finish.”

He wants to die, Aiden realized.

In his past life there had been speculations but no confirmation. If the Immortal wished to die, he had shared that information with nobody.

Obedient to the Immortal’s request, Aiden forced himself to his feet. Every time he could remember that he had used [Fragmented Tongue] it had always left him tired, however, he had never checked what exactly it took from him. His guess had been his stamina, but he could never be sure.

In this moment, he was sure. [Fragmented Tongue] took nothing from him that the interface could quantify. His life stats were just as they had been, he had lost nothing from using [Fragmented Tongue], not from his health, stamina, or mana.

Aiden pulled himself to his feet. With a shrug of will, he reached into his storage space and pulled out his weapons of choice.

The hilt of a long sword fell comfortably into his dominant hand. In his off hand fell a battle-axe. Weakened as he was, there was a calm comfort in the promise of armed violence. He would work best unarmed, but he needed all the edge that he could get now that his body felt like it was broken. It was as if all his skills were weighing down on him, as if the very clothes he was wearing were like boulders.

Aido forced himself to his feet, too. The Immortal looked him in the eye.

“You,” he said with conviction, “will end my life.” His eyes darted momentarily to Valdan who was still on his knees, struggling to remain there. “No one else.”

Aiden nodded once.

“Good,” Aido muttered, blood dripping from his lips with every word. “Now, unsheathe your blade.”

Aiden looked down at the long sword and found it sheathed. He slipped the scabbard under the armpit of his other arm, keeping it in place, then unsheathed the weapon.

Aido nodded. “Good.”

Then he slapped Aiden.

The action was nothing but a blur. All Aiden felt was the world crack with the sound like a whip, then pain flare in his jaw. He staggered, caught himself before he fell, then moved into a dance of blades.

His sword swing missed Aido’s neck by only an inch. His axe followed immediately after as he executed a very sloppy pirouette. Again, Aido avoided it with a step.

Aiden recovered, leaping at the Immortal. Aido faced him head on. Unarmed, Aido ducked the first sword strike, stepped into the swinging axe and raised his arm so that the haft slammed into his side. With the axe trapped, he closed in, threatening to strike.

The axe was abandoned without a second thought. Aiden brought his sword back up at the last moment. Aido reacted just as quickly. The tip of the sword tore the flesh of his cheek, drawing blood.

Around them, Aiden realized that those who had survived Aido’s roar were not much. As they all regained their footing, they were left hesitant, faced with two decisions: Nosrath with a spear in its chest and monsters fighting it or the two men facing off against each other.

Their answer came easily as the Immortal swung the axe at Aiden’s head. They rushed Nosrath while Aiden fought for his life.

Valdan moved to intercept the swinging axe, sword raised. He took the blow on the flat of his blade.

Aido paused for a very brief moment, confused. Then he frowned.

“This is no fight for the weak,” he spat.

In a blur of motion, the axe was no longer in his hold. Valdan paused for only a breath before a backhanded slap sent him flying through the clearing.

Aido returned his attention to Aiden. Aiden was already in his face, a fist cocked back. His fist struck through. He felt bone breaking under the weight of his red fist. But Aido did not fly. He staggered back a few steps and came to a stop.

A maddened smile tore through his lips. “YES!” he roared. “THAT IS HOW IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS HOW YOU EARN THIS!”

He rushed forward, ecstasy on his face. The man was high on his own pain. He was insane, Aiden realized as he allowed his sword to fall from his hands.

But so am I.

He met Aido halfway, hands swinging. Aido was fast and powerful, but it only took a few exchanges to see the man’s flaw. He was not skilled. The way he fought was like that of a brawler. A person who had never learned to fight, relying only on instinct and his strength and speed. He had no skill.

Aiden ducked a blow then came up on the man’s side with a body blow that send Aido staggering.

Why did Aido need a skill when he could not die?

Aido rushed him once more. He clapped at Aiden’s head, intending to ruin his ear drums. Aiden raised his hands, intercepting the blow. He winced in pain, the clap more powerful than he had anticipated. Still, he stopped them.

Then he darted forward, throwing his head into Aido’s face. Blood sprayed and the man’s lips tore as he lost teeth.

Aido staggered back once more.

“YES!” he declared, as if to the world. “KILL ME, LACHEART! TAKE YOUR PLACE IN THE ANNALS OF TIME!”

Aiden rushed in, sinking into the depths of the madness of combat.

Aido punched him in the jaw. Aiden took the blow like stone. He heard his neck crack, the blow trying to rip his head off. He spun into the blow, not ready to die due to the madness of combat, and came back around with a spinning kick. Aido’s hands came up at the last second. Aiden’s leg struck it aside, and he needed everything in him to bring it down and bring the other leg up. The second kick connected with the side of Aido’s face, ruining his eye socket.

“THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO DIE!” Aido roared as he staggered back. His eye hung loose from the socket.

It was disgusting to see.

Aiden’s disgust must have shown on his face because Aido spoke to him in a normal voice. “Do not hesitate now, great lord,” he said, still euphoric. “My life is your responsibility now. The gods curse you if you do not take it.”

Aiden had no intention of not taking it.

The Immortal met him once more. He was like a blubbering bear, full of power and speed, but no precision, no skill.

Aiden forced himself to dance away from the first blow, then the second. He darted in, seeing an opening, and struck the man from his blind spot. The blow connected, sending Aido’s head so far back in a whiplash that his loose eye disconnected from the nerves keeping it in place.

“HALF BLIND AND MAD!” Aido roared. “I GO OUT IN A BLAZE OF GLORY.”

His head came back down and he tackled Aiden, pulling him to the ground. Straddling him, Aido brought his blows down. They came down like asteroids. Aiden braced himself, pulling his arms up in front of him to protect his face from each one.

The blows that landed on his reddened arm had no impact, but his other arm felt battered and bruised. Finding the right moment, Aiden engaged his core and threw Aido off him.

Aido rolled and got back to his feet. Aiden did the same. On his feet, he found Aido standing, hesitant. He followed Aido’s gaze, looked to his side. He found Valdan there, sword in hand.

Aiden knew the exact same thing that Aido knew. He could not take the both of them. If he faced them half-blind, he would die like something unimportant and forgotten.

This is the problem with honor, Aiden thought. It makes fools of men.

He looked at Valdan, and Valdan saw his thoughts in his eyes.

Valdan Dirtwater sheathed his sword and stood down. He was a fighter no more, only a witness.

A witness to the death of the Immortal.

Aiden returned his attention to Aido and found gratitude on the man’s face.

“Thank you,” Aido said. His voice was soft, like a grateful child. “Thank you, Lord Lacheart.”

In this moment, Aiden could not bring himself to hate the man. There is a depth to enmity, an understanding to it. When you met your enemy on the battlefield as nothing but equals, you learnt to understand them. You learnt to know them.

Aiden knew Aido.

Aiden could not hate Aido.

As Nosrath fought against the rest of the world, Aiden and Aido met once more in a flurry of blows.

Aido had learnt very little of defending or evading. An immortal, he had not cared for it. Even now, dying as he was, he fought like an immortal, wishing to overpower Aiden in a game of offense.

The Immortal gave almost as good as he got.

Aiden did not know for how long they exchanged blows. All he knew was that at some point, they stood before each other, legs rooted to the ground with fists swinging. Aiden was bare. He had no skills to give, no strength to use techniques. He had nothing but his body and his mind.

And so did Aido.

A blow connected with Aiden’s neck, missing his jaw by just a little, and for the third time Aiden struck the Immortal in the same part of his chest with his reddened arm with his palm held straight like the head of a spear.

His fingers hit something and he retracted them immediately. Aido staggered back, losing ground for the first time. He was smiling now, nothing euphoric about it.

He swung again. Aiden ducked the blow and struck him with an uppercut.

Aido staggered once more.

When he came back for more, it was with a haymaker. It was sloppy. Aiden didn’t even try to evade it, he pushed forward, striking with his reddened arm once more, hitting the target that was Aido’s chest before the haymaker was halfway complete.

For some reason, the world fell silent now. there was no one except him and the Immortal. Valdan was not the only one standing witness, the world stood witness too.

When they met once more, Aiden knew it.

He struck at the same time. Aido’s fist connected with his face and Aiden’s reddened arm connected with Aido’s chest.

In the same manner, his hand came free and he stepped past Aido.

The Immortal turned to face him. Aiden kept his back to him. He could feel the blood that covered his entire hand, crimson against his skin’s red.

There was peace, but a small touch of sorrow.

“The world will know,” Aido said, forcing Aiden to turn and face him. “When they do, remember that you—no one else but you—slayed the Immortal.”

Aiden walked up to him, feeling the last of his strength ebb away. He got to him and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Nosrath roared in the distance, a painful cry. Aiden did not care. A notification popped up in front of him and he ignored it without care as he looked into Aido’s eyes.

“You,” he said, his voice gentle, “are Sir. Aido Baragon.”

“Yes,” Aido smiled sadly. “Sir… Aido… Baragon.”

Aiden watched the life leave the man’s eyes. Only then did the last of his strength flee him. With all of it gone, Aiden dropped to his knees.

The victor won on his knees.

Sir. Aido Baragon died on his feet, one-eyed and a smile on his face. The Immortal died happy.

For some reason, that brought Aiden some measure of peace even as the notification popped up in front of him.

[Congratulations! You have slain Sir Aido Baragon Lvl 349]

…

Achievement Unlocked!

Only fools tread where the gods fear. Only the gods are believed to hold power over life and death. You have defied laws circumvented; you have restored order by bringing an end to that which refused to end. You have slain succeeded where all who have tried have failed. You have performed the duty of the void. You have slain the Immortal.

You have earned a new title!

[Void Bringer]

Then the darkness took him.

…

The master of the Order sat in his chair and stared at the notification in front of him. Unable to help himself, he burst out into laughter. It was heavy and loud, the type of belly-laugh that told you that a man could not help himself.

“Oh, by the gods,” he laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, “there is always something interesting. Nosrath is dead.”

“Nosrath is dead, master?” the instructor in front of him asked.

The students around paused, turning to look at him. The master of the Order waved them off with a gesture, forcing them to continue.

He leaned back on his chair as they ignored or tried to ignore him once more, crossed his legs, and stared at the notification in front of him, knowing that the death of Nosrath was not what had his attention.

…

“[Sage],” Brandis said, feeling his hands grow cold as he stared at the interface in front of him. This had to be impossible.

Carefully and unbothered, the [Sage] walked out of his wall and into his study. The man looked at him as if he was a child.

“Are you always this prissy or is it because of the Liquid Life you have successfully absorbed?” the old man asked, tired.

Brandis shook his head. “That is unimportant.”

“Then what is important, oh king?”

Brandis gritted his teeth, refusing to rise to the man’s taunting. “We have to find him and bring him back.”

The [Sage] paused for a moment before answering. “Why?” he asked.

“Did you not see this?” Brandis gestured violently at the notification.

The [Sage] shrugged. “It will make them allies.”

“It will make them enemies too!” Brandis snapped. “We cannot leave them out there to navigate this on their own. I don’t care how powerful or talented they are, they cannot take on kingdoms. He cannot take on kingdoms.”

The [Sage] stroked his beard in contemplation.

The world seemed to wait on his response as Brandis did.

“Have you found your son?” the [Sage] asked.

“My son will be found,” Brandis growled. “But this is not as easy as that.”

“I cannot say that I agree, but you are king.” The [Sage] turned and returned to the wall. “Do what you wish.”

Brandis watched him return into the wall, turning his attention away only when the [Sage] was gone. The old man was right, finding his son Derenet was proving harder than he had anticipated. Even his wife was beginning to feel the need to go out and look for him.

But as important as it was, this needed precedence.

Yet, even as important as it was, Brandis could not help but ask the one simple question everyone would be asking.

How?

And more importantly, if he could see it, how many other system-sanctioned monarchs could see it.

Who else can see it?

There was no answer to the question, only his interface staring him in the face, telling him the impossible.

[Aiden Lacheart has slain The Immortal]