Chapter 1: The Fall Of a Regressor
Amidst a desolate landscape dominated by charred, lifeless trees that stood as mournful sentinels, the air was thick with a palpable tension.
The winds roared through the barren expanse with an unrelenting intensity, transforming even the blazing heat of the sun into nothing more than the flicker of a candle flame struggling against the onslaught.
This inhospitable environment, stripped of vitality and color, was utterly unsuitable for any form of life or solace.
Yet, it was here, in the heart of this bleak wasteland, that an extraordinary clash unfolded—the titanic battle between two powerful gods.
Their fierce conflict illuminated the dull, ashen surroundings, as each unleashed devastating forces that could reshape the very fabric of existence itself.
Too shallow.
A young man thought, as he blocked the burning blade. His skin was burnt beyond recognition; however, the malice for the archangel in front of him burned violently in his eyes.
The silver-grey locks of his hair cascaded over most of his vision as he fell on the ground, out of breath, making him look miserable.
"Shit..." Gritting his teeth, he jumped back from the devastating blow that was coming for his life. At the point of contact, an explosion took place.
He looked at the vague silhouette that was walking out of the smoke and dust.
"Michael..." Lucas muttered, his breath short, and his voice barely a whisper.
The figure stepped forward, revealing himself to be Michael, the eminent leader of the society known as
His six pristine wings, each one feathered in divine elegance but slightly singed by Lucas's own fierce assaults, sparkled with an otherworldly radiance that seemed to illuminate the dim surroundings.
"I have to agree on it. You are strong enough to kill both Zeus and most constellations of society
Michael's voice was beautiful, if one were to say so; however, for Lucas, it was one of the things he hated very much.
As Lucas's burnt skin began to regenerate, slowly stitching itself back together, he faced Michael with a mixture of hatred and confusion.
"I don't understand it, Michael. There is no need for you to go after my blood." Lucas declared, attempting to convey calmness and reason; yet, his words fell upon Michael's ears like empty echoes in a vast chasm, unheard and unacknowledged.
With a swift motion, Michael lunged at him, sword ablaze with fury, intent on extinguishing the spark of defiance that still flickered within Lucas.
Lucas didn't hold back either.
His pristine white sword glowed with a dangerous red hue, as if the blade had bled and its blood had condensed into a sharp edge, capable of cutting anything.
The two of them clashed, and what came after was a series of explosions. Taking place in one way or another, the two sides were equal, and thus there was no determinate winner.
But...
That didn't mean this battle was going to end in a draw.
A fight was not something to be fought by righteousness; it was something to be fought with everything on line, and thus both of them were going to bet their very being.
Underhanded tricks were sought to be used, so why wait for his opponent?
A bright, condensed orb of red energy formed in his hand. Lucas, without wasting his time, pushed it straight into the face of Michael.
And then...
The orb burst into a vicious burst of sword slashes, mutilating every inch of Michael. However, it wasn't enough for his adversary to die.
I need to move faster and attack more strongly. Although such thought had no use against absolute strength, it might act as a beacon to guide him to victory.
Lucas pushed Michael with his shoulders. It was to throw him back, but the archangel was too obsessed with him and clung even more, before raising his sword to cut him in half.
***
Michael stabbed his sword straight towards my throat. Evading it seemed almost impossible, almost.
I dodged the blade by a hair's breadth and punched him straight in the ear, a move unexpected and uncalculated by him.
My fist connected, and his ear bled. In the next moment, his body started to lose its sense of balance.
Yes, he could indeed heal it, but...only if this were a physical injury, but I am not generous enough.
"What? Feeling dizzy, this early? Oh, come on, I am sure you are not going to lose your balance like this." I spat, while looking at his trembling movement.
Michael muttered something, but I wasn't interested in hearing it, and neither was I going to waste my time.
With a swift motion, I lunged at him. To retaliate against my incoming attack, Michael weakly yet took a stance with utmost perfection.
He was an enemy worth fighting against.
In a second, breathing in the burnt air, I took a stance and released a complex technique consisting of three basic sword movements.
Horizontal slash.
Vertical slash.
And...
Stab.
In terms of raw strength, I was a little off in comparison to Michael, even after my ascension to a supreme being.
However, even after my mind had broadened enough to encompass knowledge comparable to the size of a multiverse, my roots were still human.
And humans were the most unpredictable ones.
In my case, I ended up using quite a bit of my soul essence reserves—half of what I had, to be exact—to pull off this large-scale attack.
I have to say, it was a huge relief that we were in a high dimension at that time.
If we'd been in a lower realm, my attack could have caused some serious problems.
I mean, seriously, the power behind that strike was intense. It could have ripped apart everything around us, turning reality itself into chaos. Just thinking about the kind of destruction it would've unleashed is a little scary.
fwsssh
My legs squeezed out the maximum amount of speed, making my figure blur away and reach Michael's somewhat imbalanced body, before a millisecond even passed.
Surprised by my sudden appearance, but was even more shocked to find an approaching attack just behind me. Before he could escape, I wrapped my arms around his body, locking them, and then whispered in his ear.
"I get a chance to hug, right?" And as I said, the dimension shuddered.
Getting hit by such an attack would surely hurt like hell, but...I was the one who had used it, and it was my own soul essence, therefore...
I was unharmed.
After the energy shockwaves from my attack died, what remained around me was a field burning in flames, flowing away was a wind too hot to feel, and beneath my feet was...
Michael.
[Many constellations from the society
[Various constellations are shocked by the outcome of the battle.]
Ah, these guys were watching us too. Man, if only Uriel were here. I thought with disinterest etched on my face.
My gaze returned from the messages to Michael.
He was injured, beyond recognition; chunks of flesh were gone from his body, but he was still alive. Alive and resisting my foot, which was going to crush him, but I was going to torment him, so death was not going to take him with it right now.
"Any last words?" I asked while increasing the pressure on his chest.
Michael coughed violently and then spat with venom.
"You filthy being with no valour, vicious devil incarnate. You played a trick against me, so I will show you my trick too... Initiate
Before I could do anything, Michael's body turned into fine dust and was blown away by the wind, leaving me behind in an awkward position.
I...
Was going to die.
He, the archangel, a righteous being, used a demonic artifact?
This...it was funny, something worth laughing at; however, nothing escaped my mouth.
I had failed this time, too.
Messages started to burst open in front of my eyes. Societies were in joy that a being like me was dying, if only they knew that I was a...
Regressor.
But this is something to worry about later. I was looking for it, and I found it.
Her message.
[The constellation "Demonic-Judge of the Heaven" doesn't want your death.]
I opened my mouth, the words that I wanted to say, to her.
"Uriel...I..." But before I could say anything, a black sphere of nihilistic energy appeared and then...
Everything was devoured by darkness, including me.
I couldn't say anything, I couldn't think anything, I was like a lost soul, trapped in this darkness, which was both welcoming and depressing to me, a boon and a curse for me.
WHY!?
WHY!?
Why wasn't I able to say it?
Why?
I...
Wasn't able to win this time either.
The next regression was my last chance.
And my last salvation.
What a damn situation I was stuck in, die and repeat, die and repeat, die and repeat, again and again; everything is just a mess now.
Fuck it.
I will devour everything...