Chapter 3: | The Beginning of the Fated Journey
---
Billions of cycles had passed, dissolving like a grains of sands from a hourglass.
I had been a demon king, a hero, a doctor, a saint, a soldier, a demonic beast, a demon, a seraph, and every race imaginable across the vast multiverse.
But every single life had ended the same way.
Even when I married, even when I sought a tranquil existence, farming in a godforsaken land, or hiding myself away to avoid death, still, I died, always by the hands of those closest to me.
Yet, something new was stirring.
Emotions had slowly begun to seep into my existence, the very feelings I had longed for, the ones I wanted so desperately.
They were now starting to manifest within me, not as an act, but as genuine sensations.
And I couldn't have been more overjoyed to acquire even a tidbit of them.
After so many lives spent chasing mere concepts, finding even this faint spark felt like a victory.
Now, after the countless lives I'd experienced, it was finally the fated life.
The cycle I had been waiting for, for an unknown span of time, that had passed.
The Supreme Heavenly Dao had detected the records I had meticulously gathered from the billions of cycles I had endured.
That was the true beginning of everything.
My memories, which were my records, had begun to deteriorate because of the Supreme Heavenly Dao's direct interference.
It felt like a subtle drain, a faint coldness, as if something vital of myself were being meticulously extracted.
They were slowly, deliberately, plucking them away one by one.
My memories began to vanish like fine grains of sand sifting through an open palm.
Just yesterday, I could recall a specific sunset from a life as a painter, today, it was merely a blur of colors.
The bonds I had forged across the countless cycles began to unravel, fading into nothingness.
If I hadn't sealed my Authority 'Wisdom,' perhaps the Supreme Heavenly Dao wouldn't have been able to steal my precious records.
It was quite distasteful to realize that I had only a few years left before all of it would disappear, leaving me as an empty slate, devoid of any recollection.
A blank slate, utterly vulnerable.
I inhaled the gentle breeze of the forest, turning my head slowly.
When I opened my eyes, a wave of serene beauty washed over me.
A beautiful woman lay right by my side.
It was none other than the reincarnation of Elara, who had followed me into this life.
And she was now my wife for this cycle.
I recalled with an internal sigh that some students had killed Samantha while we were at Sylvester Academy.
I knew exactly who had killed her.
It was Elara.
While she possessed an innocent facade for the world to see, yet beneath it lay the darkest, most terrifying form of a yandere.
If I hadn't been a sword master in this life, I knew I would be locked away somewhere, perhaps missing a limb or two so that I wouldn't escape from her grasp.
Haaah.
While Samantha had been terrifying in her own right across the numerous lives I'd encountered her, Elara was a notch above.
Insanity, like a coiled ancient viper, lay hidden deep in her eyes, constantly waiting for the right moment to possess me entirely, to claim me as her own.
She smiled innocently, then nestled her head against my chest, listening intently to the steady beat of my heart.
"Dear."
She murmured, her voice soft and fragile.
"We've been together for decades, and we've tried to have a child for more than a year, but I… I haven't been able to conceive even once."
Elara bit her lip, her gaze fixed on mine, as raw desperation echoed in her voice.
"Am I infertile?"
Elara had been wanting a child for over a year, but the cruel irony was that in this life, I was infertile.
No matter how hard we tried, Elara simply couldn't conceive.
So, I pondered her deep desire, my gaze drifting to the swaying trees.
Their leaves rustled, a soft, melancholic music to my ears.
I clenched my teeth, a faint spark of anger, genuine anger, flickering within me.
I spoke gently, my words carefully chosen.
"It is not your fault that we couldn't have a child, my lovely Lara. But it is I who is the problem since I'm infertile."
Elara clenched her hands into fists, and shock was visible on her beautiful face.
As she asked for confirmation, her voice trembling, on the verge of breaking.
"It can't be, right? Right? Tell me! Alister, tell me you're lying! Right! Right! Right!"
Elara's voice echoed with pure desperation.
She wanted me to lie, to say I was just joking.
It was understandable why she was like this, we had been together for more than a decade, yet we couldn't have a child.
So I gazed at her, a profound pity surfacing within me, yet the expression on my face was one filled with resolution.
"I am not lying, Lara. It's just that I've been thinking about whether to reveal it to you or not, especially since you've been desperately trying to conceive every night."
Elara clenched her teeth, tears brimming in her eyes, and then she cursed, a guttural sound of raw pain.
"Fuck it! Why didn't you say it earlier, you damned bastard? Why! Just why didn't you tell me! So that… I wouldn't be this desperate!"
Elara's last cry was a raw, heartbreaking sound.
She wept silently, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration.
A hint of sadness, genuine sadness, was developing inside me.
Yes, this was it.
These two girls were the key for me to obtain the emotions I had longed for.
Only when I was by their side, could I feel it, a faint, genuine emotion welling up inside me.
How could I have not realized it?
Oh, how foolish I was!
Elara and Samantha… these girls were far more useful than I had expected.
Not just as tools for pleasure, but as tools that could fight unconditionally, and tools that would help me develop my emotions.
My smile widened into a predatory curve as I caressed Elara lovingly, whispering gently into her ear.
"Calm down, Lara. Perhaps we could find an elixir that could solve this in the Black Dragon Lair. Have some hope."
Elara slowly calmed, her expression brightening as she forced a smile.
Still sobbing softly, she nodded.
I interlocked my fingers with hers, comforting her with a touch that now carried a semblance of care.
Hours passed.
Elara finally got up, her gaze lingering on me for what felt like a final, poignant moment, before she smiled brightly.
"You're such a bad guy, making me, a beautiful woman, cry. You bad, bad liar!"
I chuckled softly at her playful accusation and waved.
Elara, ignoring my gesture, walked straight towards the serene lake.
Minutes later, a metallic tang filled the air.
I smelled blood, growing thick and nauseating, emanating from where Elara had gone.
"It can't be!"
A jolt of emotion, sharp and unwelcome, shot through me.
My mind reeled.
Grabbing my sword, I dashed towards the lake like a crazed beast, as a primal shout tore through from my throat.
"Elara! Where are you!"
I scanned the edges of the lake frantically, but found no trace of blood.
I clenched my jaw harder, a tremor running through me.
No, it couldn't be!
My tool to develop my emotions, it couldn't be!
It can't be!
For the first time, a genuine turmoil churned in my chest.
I looked around wildly, and then… something wet dripped onto my head.
My hand instinctively reached up, touching a wet strand of my hair.
I looked at my palm and saw it, bright red blood covering it.
My body trembled, a reaction that I control.
"It can't be…"
Slowly, reluctantly, I gazed upwards.
What I feared most had happened.
Elara's body was a mangled mess, a mess was unrecognizable.
Sword cuts marred her corpse, which was hung grotesquely from the branch of a tree above me.
A wave of nausea hit me, and I vomited the morning's meal onto the ground.
But deep inside, beneath the manufactured horror, I felt nothing beyond a faint anger, a territorial rage that someone had dared to touch what was mine.
I sighed, the fleeting emotion already dissipating into the back of my mind, as shadows slowly revealed themselves from the surrounding trees.
I shouted, my voice cold, devoid of the earlier feigned grief.
"Is it necessary to kill her?!"
A burly man, wielding a formidable axe, stepped forward and laughed, his voice was a booming, malicious sound.
It was none other than my close friend in this life, Cesare.
His voice was rough, triumphant, as he pointed towards Elara's hanging corpse.
"What do you think of my gift, my good brother, Alister Von Fai?"
I chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, as I unsheathed my sword.
A dark aura, raw and potent, coated the blade.
"Then you must be prepared to die?."
But before I could finish my words, a net, shimmering with arcane energy, shot out and caught me, tightening around my form.
Then, a crossbow bolt, whistling through the air, pierced my heel.
A sharp, searing pain exploded through my foot, and I roared.
"I see! So we weren't hunting a dragon, but me! Right, Cesare!"
Cesare merely chuckled, a cruel grin spreading across his face.
He leveled a crossbow at me and took his time to aim, then fired.
Then, in the next second, a searing pain blossomed in my chest.
An arrow, black-fletched, lodged deep inside my sternum.
I gasped for breath, the magic net pulsing around me, draining my mana and suppressing my aura.
Then I saw it, countless arrows raining down from the sky.
My vision blurred as it grew dim.
An arrow impaled my throat, then another pierced straight through my eye.
Perhaps this life was indeed the one with the most nonsensical death.
I died without much immediate context, but I knew the reason for his betrayal.
Elara's father had tasked him to kill me.
And I knew that the mangled woman hanging in the air wasn't truly Elara.
Her capture, along with my head, had been their primary objective, as Elara was meant to be sold as a bride by her desperate father.
Haaah.
Such a pity.
Just when my emotions were finally developing, death had claimed me too early.
What a shame that my cycle ended in such a bland way.
Perhaps it would have been awesome if I could become a Demon King again, or perhaps a knight in shining armor with the ambition to rescue Elara from a forced marriage.
Well, death had already claimed me.
And the Heavenly Dao shouldn't suspect me, since I had played that orchestra in such a fine, convincing way.
---
Hundreds of years later, I was now wandering through the silent expanse of space.
I was a pure consciousness, a mere fragment of my former self, yet buzzing with a singular purpose.
For centuries, perhaps millennia, that I drifted in this dark place, in search for the precise cosmic signature, the confluence of energies that would mark the fated day.
Today, no, this cycle, was the fated day I had been waiting for countless cycles.
A cluster of what seems like a thousand of peculiar eggs shimmered before me.
Upon my previous death, something inexplicably drew me to this unique world.
My false soul, a flickering ember of my true self, then slipped into an unknown egg, devouring the developing soul within and possessing it as my own.
Just like that, I, as an embryo, developed with unnatural speed.
Months passed in a blur, and the day I would lose my memories was drawing closer and closer.
Only a year's worth of time remained.
And I would be damned if I couldn't ascend to the ranks of Emperorhood within that timeframe.
But with the body of a Whark, a colossal, powerful creature, achieving it would be nothing but a breeze.
I let out a mental sigh of contentment, organizing my fragmented thoughts, and began to calculate what intricate events would unfold in this new life.
"I see."
I mused internally.
"So this life will be an interesting one indeed, with me living for hundreds of years before ultimately becoming that calamity."
Another week passed.
My whale-like body had already finished developing its massive fins, perfectly formed, without any defects.
I chuckled internally, a soundless rumble of satisfaction.
With such a powerful build as an infant, I couldn't have been happier.
Tensing my nascent muscles, I then bashed the shell that imprisoned me, relentlessly striking it again and again.
Cracks snaked across the tough shell as I struck it harder and harder.
And then, with a final, satisfying crack, it shattered.
My smile widened, a wide, toothy grin for my new form.
Water, vast and welcoming, enveloped me in a cool embrace.
I then called out the term I had longed to utter for cycles beyond counting.
'Dimensional Record.'
A holographic screen shimmered before me, displaying my status window.
---
[ALISTER VON FAI]
Titles: The Accursed One | The False One
Race: Whark [1★]
Stage: 0
Tier: 1
Level: 1 / 5
EXP: 1 / 100
Class: (Locked)
Subclass: (Locked)
Inventory: (Locked)
Equipment: (Locked)
---
Stats
Health: 10 / 10 (+1 per level)
Stamina: 10 / 10 (+1 per level)
Mana: (Locked)
Physique: 0.03 (+0.1 per level)
Mystique: (Locked)
Charm: 1
Luck: -100
---
Authority:
Myth Voracity | Sealed [9/10]
A cursed Authority of the Harbinger of Myth, Myth Voracity grants the right to consume the records, the foundational truths and mythic imprints that define a being's existence. Once an absolute force of assimilation, a divine curse has fractured its certainty, reducing guaranteed devouring to mere chance. Yet even in its weakened state, it remains dreadfully potent; every act of consumption allows it to siphon fragments of records, skills, stats, and traits woven into a foe's legend, feeding the Authority and expanding its dominion over myth.
---
Bloodlines:
---
Bloodline skills:
---
Affinity:
---
Skills:
Bronze Stomach [Passive | Level 1]
The Whark's stomach lining is extremely resilient, allowing it to consume and digest tough materials like bone, shell, and even some metals. This not only provides a source of sustenance from nearly anything it devours but also grants resistance to ingested toxins and corrosive substances. The digestive system is slow but thorough, ensuring that even the hardest materials are broken down over time.
Enhanced Teeth [Passive | Level 1]
The Whark's teeth are not vestigial—each row is lined with razor-sharp, serrated fangs designed for tearing through flesh and bone. As new teeth grow in constantly, they never dull, ensuring consistent cutting power. A Whark's bite is not just powerful but designed to rip and shear, making escape nearly impossible once it has latched onto prey.
Scaled Hide [Passive | Level 1]
The Whark's skin is layered with tough, armor-like scales, reducing the impact of blunt and slashing attacks. The scales are not rigid like plate armor but instead flex under pressure, absorbing force before it can reach vital areas. While not impervious to damage, this natural defense makes cutting through a Whark's flesh significantly more difficult.
----
Unique skills:
---
A genuine, unbidden smile spread across my massive, Whark-like face.
'Finally.'
I thought, with a surge of triump.
'The beginning of my true journey to Ascendance has officially begun.'