The phantom returned into the lotus, its form dissolving into the radiant core. A moment of silence stretched over the lake, an eerie stillness that made Varos frown; "What is it trying to do," he thought. Then, without warning, the lake trembled.
Then the lotus sank, making the entire lake seem to exhale as it disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only the ghostly afterimage of its golden glow in the rippling water.
Varos watched, unfazed. He had seen enough creatures attempt to escape before their final struggle. "Running? That's disappointing," he murmured.
But then, the lake erupted, and the lotus burst forth, transformed. Thick dark vines slithered from beneath it, stretching across the water's surface like the limbs of some ancient beast.
The vines had rocks embedded in them, and they pulsed with an eerie dark glow, radiating overwhelming soul energy that made the air buzz with power.
The young voice returned, but it was steady and resolute this time. "I will not die here. Not today and not ever," Varos smirked. "Oh? You've made up your mind?" He took a slow step forward, his sword gripped in his hand, his gaze piercing through the storm of energy swirling around the lotus. "You already know the difference between us, yet you still choose to resist?"
The vines coiled tighter, the lake trembling as if reflecting the lotus's resolve. "I may be weaker," the voice admitted, "but that does not mean I will bow, and I'd rather die than bow."
Varos chuckled, shaking his head. "Foolish." He extended a hand, his fingers curling slightly as the space around him warped. "But good. At least this way, you'll die on your feet rather than groveling at mine." Varos continued. "Very well, let's see how long you last."
And the battle began. Whoosh!!
A vine lashed toward Varos, but he deflected it effortlessly with a swift flick of his sword. Another followed, then another, and soon, hundreds of strikes rained down upon him in mere seconds.
His movements remained fluid, his blade a blur as he parried each attack with ease. The lotus, relentless in its assault, finally activated its innate ability—Soul Vine Spike—after realizing that physically attacking was meaningless to Varos.
The moment it did, Varos felt an ominous pressure invade his mind. His instincts flared with warning, and he swung his sword in a wide horizontal arc without hesitation. A crescent wave of divine energy erupted from the blade, tearing through the air toward the lotus.
Sensing the danger, the lotus conjured a barrier of divine wood, its shimmering layers forming a sturdy defense. But the attack of Varos tore through it effortlessly, smashing into the lotus itself.
However, the impact merely rippled across the second layer of protection—a natural defensive barrier that the lotus had activeted when it first submerged into the lake.
The Soul Vine Spike drilled into Varos's soul, bypassing physical defenses entirely as if it were not there. In the depths of his soul sea, Varos's consciousness materialized, his form standing amidst the endless void of his spiritual domain.
Before him, the invading Soul Vine Spike writhed like a serpent, tendrils of eerie energy attempting to latch onto his soul form.
With a cold expression, Varos willed his soul sword into existence, and then a radiant blade forged from the sheer force of his will materialized. He swung down, severing the invading tendrils in an instant.
But, to his shock, the Soul Vine Spike regenerated instantly, feeding off his very soul energy attack to replenish itself.
Varos's eyes narrowed. "It's using my own strength against me."
Deep within his soul sea, Mortevant observed the battle in silence, an amused glint in his eyes as he thought, this is it.
Mortevant activated a soul disturbance technique with a subtle motion, sending faint ripples through Varos's spiritual perception. It was an imperceptible attack, meant to cloud judgment and create a brief opening.
He was waiting—waiting for Varos to make a mistake, for his focus to waver. The moment the lotus wounded his soul, Mortevant would strike, seizing the opportunity to take over Varos's body.
His time was near, or so he thought.
The battle within Varos's soul sea had raged for hours. The Soul Vine Spike lashed at him relentlessly, an insidious force that refused to dissipate, feeding off his energy and returning stronger with each strike.
Varos clenched his fists, his soul form flickering under the strain. "I can't keep going like this," he muttered, his voice resolute rather than desperate. Then, without hesitation, he activated his Law of Undying Will.
A surge of power erupted from within him, his soul sea trembling as a new force awakened. His endurance, his soul strength, and even his attacks all amplified beyond their previous limits. Mortevant, observing from the depths of Varos's soul, widened his eyes in shock.
"Impossible!" he exclaimed. "How is he able to use this ability? He's only at the early stage of the Law of Undying Will!" "This should have been beyond Varos," Mortevant thought, and unfortunately for Mortevant his soul-disturbing technique was rendered useless by Varos's increase in power. But he didn't dwell on it.
Varos had just activated a powerful ability called the Will of Defiance, which is exclusive to individuals who have achieved Rank Three in the Law Realm of the Law of Undying Will. Under normal circumstances, this achievement would have been far beyond Varos's reach.
Mortevant narrowed his gaze as he analyzed Varos's ability. His expression flickered between intrigue and caution. "Hmm… It's still weaker than a proper Rank Three ability, but once he reaches Rank Two, it'll be able to rival one," he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
His mind churned through possibilities. "If the other Primordials find out about this… they'll never let it slide."
What did it mean to rival someone a full rank above? Even among Primordials, such a feat was rare, requiring countless epochs of refinement. Yet here was a mere Law-Bearer, already displaying the potential to bridge that gap.
It wasn't just talent, it was a disruption to the universe's balance. "Even we struggle to surpass those above us… but he's already doing it at the first rank."
The realization sent a ripple of unease through him. He knew his kind too well. They are prideful, possessive, and tyrannical. The idea that lesser beings could encroach upon their dominion would be unacceptable.
The Law Bearer Realm had always been a privilege of the mighty, a proving ground for those destined to wield the Grand Law. If creatures like Varos could fight them on equal footing, it would shake the very foundations of their power.
"But is this just him… or is it something all creatures are capable of?" The thought unsettled him. If Varos wasn't unique—if others could achieve this same absurd power- his expression darkened.
It would mean war—an all-out war between the Primordials and those who sought to challenge them. If the lesser races could ascend to Law Bearers faster than the Primordials could push toward Grand Law, then the unshakable rule of his kin would be threatened.
He scoffed, shaking off the creeping unease. "No, that's ridiculous. Most creatures were made from our essence. Even if they grow strong, they'll always be beneath us."
Primordials possessed Bloodline Suppression, an absolute authority over their descendants. This undeniable fact of existence was a power granted to them by Lex, ensuring their unrivaled status for countless ages.
But as he reassured himself, a troubling thought gnawed at him. What if the bloodline wasn't absolute? What if something, or someone, could break free? Mortevant clenched his jaw, unwilling to explore the idea any further.
The universe was vast, too vast. It never adhered to the rules set by those who considered themselves above it.
Varos, now far more powerful than before, swung his sword with the intent of expelling the vines from his soul sea to regain his environmental advantage because soul battles were not his forte.
The vines halted their relentless assault as they sensed the imminent danger posed by Varos's attack. Consequently, they quickly dispersed and transformed into tiny strands. Varos, seeing this, showed no reaction as he launched his strike.
A blade of pure soul power sliced through the tiny vines. This attack contained 60 percent of his soul energy, and upon contact, they were obliterated.
HRYYYYYYYYYYYAAAH!!
A raw, prolonged wail of agony, almost humanoid in sound but distorted with an alien quality, escaped from the lotus. Its horrifying cry echoed as its vines thrashed against the lake, splashing water all around.
Varos exhaled slowly, observing the creature's distress and remembering the time he was attacked by visions, a moment when he was closest to death.
He saw the petals of the lotus, once vibrant and radiant, wither and decay. Its outermost layer crumbled into golden dust, dissolving into the lake below. Each fallen petal was a fragment of its essence lost, its strength slipping away like sand through fingers.
Even in agony, the lotus refused to submit. Its remaining vines quivered, coiling with renewed aggression, its core pulsing erratically, preparing for one final attack.
It had exhausted its energy and defenses shattered, yet it refused to surrender. If it were to die, then it would do so on its own terms, not as fuel for another.
"I will not give even a fragment of myself to him," the lotus thought, its will burning with defiance.
With its remaining soul energy and even its very soul essence, it materialized a massive soul spike above its body. The spike pulsed violently, its surface swirling with condensed soul energy, drawing in everything the lotus had left.
It spun faster and faster, the very air trembling under its weight. It was not merely an attack—it was its final act, an absolute refusal to be consumed.
Before the spike could fully form, Varos moved, he could feel the attacks lethality and if he was wounded Mortevant would try to seize his body, so before even the attack was ready he decided to attack.
His grip tightened around his sword as he activated one of his most refined techniques—Severance.
A single slash.
A blade of pure, honed intent sliced through the connection between the lotus and its attack, cutting it off completely. The spike trembled for an instant before collapsing, its gathered energy scattering into the void like dust in the wind.
The lotus's core dimmed, its body wilting, its strength utterly spent. As its consciousness faded, a final thought surfaced.
"What an unfair world…"
It had never attacked anyone, never sought to harm. It only wished to live, to evolve, to become something more than just a flower rooted in the lake. Yet fate was cruel, and reality cared nothing for its dreams.
Its body crumbled, dissolving into fine ash that scattered with the wind. Where it once stood, a single seed remained, pulsating faintly with residual energy.
Varos stepped forward and picked up the seed, placing it into his pocket dimension without a word. His gaze then shifted to the severed spike, still hovering in the air, now exuding an intoxicating aura of pure soul essence. "Finally, he thought, "I can finally get rid of this nuisance."
During the fight, he was up against two opponents: the Lotus and Mortevant. He had to remain constantly on guard against both of them.
Extending his hand, Varos willed the spike to shrink. It compressed until it was no larger than his fingertip. With the spike secured, his eyes turned toward the lake.
His senses swept its depths, searching for anything hidden beneath the still waters. His search bore fruit, clusters of divine herbs radiating soul energy, their properties undoubtedly beneficial to him.
Then, amidst the scattered treasures, he noticed it: a black book resting untouched at the bottom of the lake, exuding a calm aura. "There it is," Varos murmured before diving in.