The moon hung high in the sky, and the wind howled past viciously, as if preparing itself for the clash about to commince, but Blake wasn't a fool. He knew morning was just around the corner — and with it, his natural nighttime boosts to both his physical abilities and energy reserves. He knew that, if the Sun rises before he finishes this fight, he will lose his night time advantage and would be subjected to stamina and mana loss, not to mention a reduction in healing factor ability and possible shadow energy loss.
'I need to finish this before the Sun rises,' he thought to himself, hand on the hilt of his blade, muscles tense, mentally bracing himself for the clash. 'He's 6 whole levels above me in power, but night is my domain, even if my opponent has darkness attribute. I have darkness immunity… I think. probably. '
Blake wasn't too sure on that last part. On one hand, his father is the true source of darkness across the universe, possibly the multiverse. As his son, the element shouldn't hurt him, he guessed, but there were no certainties in that assumption.
All that said, the person before him was still a mid-level Legendary ranked powerhouse. Even the werewolf prince, Pallas, was only a low-leveled Chaotic ranker — This assassin was a whole level above Pallas, plus a minor level. And they've already chosen to kill Coven; Blake himself wasn't certain he would notice he was dead until it was too late.
The person stood on the branch of the tree, shrouded in shadows, but, thanks to his night vision, Blake could see his features perfectly fine. He saw the long, pointy ears and pale skin, the dark black eyes like their very own twin pits of darkness. He saw the long, inky black hair that seemed to wisp with shadows in its ponytail.
The outfit the man wore itself was an odd mix of modern military ops wear and fantasy assassin wear. He saw the face mask that reminded Blake of his favorite Marvel supersolider assassin/vigilante in the films, and the black and grey camouflage pants, black long sleeve collar shirt and black tactical vestplate armour, complete with knee plates, wrist cuffs and tactical belt — all black.
His pitch black, Legendary ranked Carolingian sword was in-hand, but Blake could see multiple daggers, blades, darts and knives strapped to various places along his body, including his vestplate near the abs, to his hip, thighs and ankles. At his waist, Blake noticed 2 separate chaotic ranked tomahawks strapped to his sides.
As Blake observed all this, a haunting realization dawned upon him: This man was a killer of killers, trained to use every weapon he dawned upon himself and the current target of his list was… Blake himself.
A shiver of fear and anticipation ran down Blake 's spine as he realized this. He was both wary of this assassin and intrigued — Curious, really. Sure, on the surface, he wanted to get as much space between himself and this man as he possibly could; his every instinct urged him to. But, deeper down, his demigod blood wanted to fight; he wanted to see how far this person could take him. Demigods were warriors by nature; even the kindest and most seemingly innocent of demigods had an urge to fight — And something about this man's presence invited his fighter instincts alight.
'Is he a demigod, too, perhaps?' Blake thought, curiously.
Though the man had already outright said his piece and was already out to kill him, he said nothing else. He just stood there.
"Who are you?" Blake pulled out his own Legendary ranked weapon, Darkstar, getting into the fighting stance of his Blade of Erebus sword arte technique. "Who sent you to kill me?"
No reaction. No answer. Just silence.
Blake wanted answers. He was about to demand them, or, at least ask for something else, but then he sensed it. Coming from every direction, all at once, the movement of blades made of pure darkness closed in on Blake like missiles to a target. And, try as he might, Blake wouldn't be able to dodge them in time — Not without tanking some hits in the process, even with his high agility.
He sensed their approach too late. They closed in from every angle at once—too fast, too many. Dodging was impossible.
'Shit!' He clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the agony of a hundred blades tearing into his flesh. For a split second, he even let his eyes close in grim acceptance. Despite every victory, every plan, every battle survived—when faced with overwhelming power, he was still small. Still mortal enough to die.
But the pain never came.
The storm of shadow-blades froze inches from his skin, trembling as if unsure. Then, one by one, they unraveled into wisps of smoke, dissolving before his eyes. The darkness itself bowed to him, caressing his face with harmless trails of mist. Not a single blade struck. Not even a single hair was harmed.
This caused surprise to dawn on both Blake 's and the assassin's face, their eyes going wide.
"Darkness immunity… even from father's darkness…," the stranger said in their altered voice. "Interesting… Does this work against father's shadows?"
Before Blake could completely comprehend the question enough to answer, he felt it — this time, the shadows around him turned into shards, razor sharp and deadly, like dozens of bladeded whips, made to penetrate flesh and dismember and dice their target into countless, gory pieces — they aimed to kill Blake , he realized. And Blake , internally, was once again bracing himself for the pain…and was once again surprised when it never came.
Instead, what the pain should've been caused by, in its place was the shadow razor shards all returning to their natural forms and positions, returning to the trees and stones they occupied in the given environment.
"An immunity to shadow attacks as well," the figure's garbled voice sounded from behind their mask. "Hmm… Well, looks like I'llhave to kill you physically. That's ok, though. I don't mind getting my hands dirty personally, anyway. All that matters is the erasure of the target and the success of the mission."
Before Blake 's eyes, the figure began to radiate a shadow fire of darkness, leaping from the top of the tree branch like a ninja, landing directly before Blake without even a sound, his carolingian blade in hand in all its glory. The man released his aura, the black, fiery energy of his willpower and energy bearing down upon Blake , forcing the son of Erebus to his knee…
But not for long, though. The darkness, sensing Blake 's struggle, converged upon him, embracing him in a protective field, allowing Blake to stand once more, much to the assassin's surprise. The assassin's eyes hardened at this, likely recalculating Blake 's threat level.
"Impressive, Primordial Spawn…," the figure finally said, its tone flat even through its face mask. "Most impressive. Enough to reveal who is here to kill you, in fact. Give praise, for I, the Dark Elf assassin, Ashenborn Umbrash, The Assassin Prince, will be taking your life this day."
Blake , startled by this person's initially cold demeanor suddenly turned conversational, was briefly puzzled, before he hardened his own facial expression and grinned. "You're strong, I sense that, but I have no intentions of dying today. I'm sure you understand. Victories to plan, conquests to conqueror, vengeance to enact. Why don't you be a good boy, and tell me who hired you? It'll make getting to them much easier than alternative methods."
Ashenborn said nothing in response. Instead, he got into form, his sword, Blackfrost, at the ready.
Seeing no other way to settle this, realizing he was going to get nothing from the assassin prince, Blake got into stance, readying for likely his most difficult battle yet. With Darkstar in hand, its pure black blade on display and stance ready, Blake immediately activated his skill, Shadowlord State[The ability he used against Pallas in that final battle]. His white hair turned pitch black, his eyes glowing a dark violet color, while his left eye's sclera had turned pitch black. A dark purple-black flame seemed to come off him in waves and, though he sensed it was still incomplete, its power felt like everything about himself was enhanced greatly. His own power rose steadily, peaking at many times his base level power. He felt the raw power boost just partially being in this state gave him in speed, agility, stamina and shadow-related skills and abilities.
This sudden primal aura gave Ashenborn pause, as he hadn't expected such a power up to come from a mere Demigod-ranked target, let alone it being quite the transformation ability. His face showed mild surprise, but Blake paid it no heed. He decided the moment he transformed that he wouldn't — that he couldn't — allow this person to make the first move, as it would undoubtedly lead to his definite and immediate defeat.
Suddenly vanishing from the spot he was just at, Blake appeared directly before the assassin, performing a horizontal arch with his blade, Darkstar, intending to cut the assassin in half and ending the fight in one fell swoop.
Sadly, such plans fell through.
The assassin merely reflected the attack, choosing instead to kick Blake in the right of his ribs, which, with a resound CRACK, sent him flying into the forest of trees behind him. A passage of falling trees, dirt, dust and gravel trailed the wake of his collision with the forest floor.
Blake , worse for wear, struggled but managed to get up, heart pounding, chest hurting and body sore. Spitting blood from his mouth as he coughed blood from his lungs, Blake sensed immediately that he had a broken rib, a dislocated right arm and a slight concussion. His earlier wound from his fight with the shadowflame bear — his right rib had fractured once again, after only just healing itself before the fight had begun.
'Shit! One kick from this guy, even in Shadowlord State, and this much damage was caused?' Blake thought, his vision blurry and doubling, likely from the concussion he was suffering from. 'If it weren't for my healing factor, I'd definitely have died just then! Is this the power of a Legendary ranked cultivator? Or is this person a special case?'
Blake watched the slowly approaching assassin, casually taking his time in making his way to Blake . He knew Blake was finished, so he saw no need to worry about the boy. His concussion healed over enough, though, that Blake could see him clearly.
He forcibly relocated right arm with an audible POP!, relief-swirling through him as well as a minor rush of pain, as his healing factor kicked in to dull that, too. Then, clenching his fist< Blake steeled his resolve. He would NOT be dying here!
'It doesn't matter if this bastard is stronger than me, I refuse to die by his hand or anyone elses',' he thought, summoning forth all his Tainted summons and shadow undead, mentally ordering them to buy him time to think. 'Think Blake . Think. What can we do?'
The assassin, realizing that the summons were many, shouted, summoning forth a shockwave of frost, ice shards and winter winds, freezing most of Blake 's summons where they stood and sending the rest flying back away.
"You thought you could stop me….with this?" came the assassin's garbled voice, gesturing to Blake 's knocked back or frozen allies. "I am…insulted."
"They weren't supposed to stop you," Blake released his chuckle, causing the assassin to eye him warily. "They were supposed to stall you…Evidently with hardly any results. No matter. Stopping you…lies solely with me. And… I've already won."
'Shadow Dome,' Blake commanded. 'Shadow Tendril, Shadow Bind.'
Instantaneously, a dome of shadows surrounded them, encasing them in a mini world of shadows for half a mile in all directions. Gone were the night, starry sky and the constellations that made it; gone was the moon that crested above the trees and mountains of the Dark Forests. And, in their place, were shadows that danced in a perpetual state of wisps, coils and mist.
And, in the center of this new domain, bound in shadowy hands, tendrils, chains and ropes, the assassin was stuck. He tried to will the shadows away, but they were under Blake 's complete dominion. 'A Domain already? But he's not even Chaotic rank yet? Wait… this must be a pseudo-Domain skill, then. Who is this kid?'
Blake , already rushing in for the kill, Darkstar in hand, slashed at the assassin, who immediately willed an aura of ice to offset his bindings, solidifying them before ripping free of them in the nano of a second, upping his own sword to block Blake 's strike.
Blake barely was able to tap two fingers to the man's forehead before he broke free. Sadly, it did no damage, as the assassin attempted to retreat a series of steps backward.
But Blake was too fast, using multiple strikes to catch the assassin offguard, he willed particularly strong tendrils, condensed with all the shadow energy he could gather within his domain, to thrust towards the assassin, who made multiple walls of ice to block the attack.
The tendrils crashed into the walls, slamming into them, slowing with each crashing wall, before crashing into the assassin with enough force to send the assassin crashing into a tree with a loud BOOM!
The impact created a crater the size of a house, the nearby trees and flora falling in on themselves into the crater like a wormhole.
'Could the bastard have survived that?' Blake thought skeptically. He doubted that killed that bastard, and his doubts were proven founded less than a second later. 'Figures.'
Coughing up blood, the assassin managed to get back on his feet, dazedly assessing his injuries. He sensed internal bleeding mostly, nothing too damaging — 'But, by a Demigod ranker…?' he thought. 'Fine. He is strong. He is worthy.'
"Shadow Tendril. Shadow Bin—," Blake began, not wanting to give his opponent the chance to retaliate, but he was interrupted by the assassin's next words.
"Father, heed my call! I summon forth your blessing: Bless of Hodr," the assassin spoke, his voice strong. "Divine Possession of Frost and Darkness."
Those words caused fear and weariness to flow through Blake like an uncontrolled wave upon the ocean. Its words were clear and its meaning even more so. Blake barely had time to realize that he had been right earlier — The bastard before him was a demigod; a son of Hodr, apparently.
Then, nigh instantly, the bindings that had already begun reach for the assassin were repelled away and, with it, came the shattering of Blake 's Shadow Dome Domain, as raw waves of a mysterious power came off the assassin, and, curled in that power, a darkness just as great. Frost, darkness and shadows danced in these waves and a dreadful existence revealed itself to Blake from the assassin's form, as he himself looked at the assassin's completely pitch black eyes. A presence so great, greater than even Athan crashed upon the Dark Forest, its attention already catch Blake in a web. It took every ounce of Blake 's willpower to keep Blake from falling to his knees from the pressure.
"This…. This isn't Ashenborn anymore," Blake realized in horror. "It's divine power. This is the presence of a god."
"WHO DARES?! WHO DARES TOUCH MY SON?!" came a voice that seemed to echo itself off the forest and night itself, as a presence than any Ashenborn could possess made itself known from Ashenborn's body. "I AM HODR — God of Darkness & WINTER! AND YOU DARE TO DISTURB ME AND MINE! PREPARE TO DIE!!"
Blake , still struggling to stand up, felt helpless. Thankfully, the surrounding darkness, which had increased in the god's presence, had converged unto Blake , protecting him from the presence of a superior being and their domineering presence as a god.
"What's This?" the Voice, with a natural echo sounded intrigued, as the god-possessed assassin tilted in his head in consideration, watching as the surrounding darkness automatically rushed to protect this insignificant ant in his presence. "You have a supernaturally high affinity with the elements of Umbra… Why is that? Are you, perhaps, a son of a god?"
Blake refused to answer this being, as he gritted his teeth. Despite the surrounding shadows and darkness rushing to help protect him, the natural pressure this deity was producing just by being here, it was still quite a struggle to maintain… Or rather, it was putting pressure on his soul, which hurt like Hell.
'It just needs a few more seconds to work,' Blake thought, internally. 'Just a few more seconds. Thankfully, this deity can't exert its full power through this assassin — I can somehow sense that this is just a portion of its true power, and a small one at that, and thank the gods for it, too. Otherwise, I'd be dead already.'
Taking his silence as answer enough, the god-possessed assassin made a cruel sneer of a face, seen even through the mask on its unnaturally pale face, as it increased its pressure and presence upon Blake 's soul, forcing the poor boy to his knees.
This action alone caused a 200 kilometer crater to form below Blake in the process. Blake also began coughing up blood, as he felt as if his insides were turning to muss, collapsing in on themselves as they failed.
"Whom is your godly parent, boy?! Which god dares to give birth or seed forth a grotesque entity as disgraceful as yourself?" The deity increased the pressure on Blake even more, intending to force him to answer. "I will hunt them down, slay their blood and entrails upon Midgard in a shower rain of blood, and make them my trophies! TELL ME! WHO IS YOUR GODLY PARENT BOY!?!"
"Aag!" Blake coughed up what he was sure was parts of his kidney. "E-erebus."
There was a sudden pause, pressure momentarily vanishing from the god's aura slightly.. "What?" the god's voice sounded small all of a sudden.
"M-m-my father," Blake gritted his teeth, groaning in pain and anger at how weak he sounded, how much in pain he currently was in. "Is Erebus."
Time paused, as the deity processed Blake 's words, its aura completely removed from its pulverizing of Blake 's soul. Blake eventually managed to look up at the being and what he saw in its eyes was able to be summed up into one word: Horror. Horror seemed to cross the entity's face, covering it even through the mask, as it began to shiver in fear. "You're the son of the Great Darkness itself?"
Blake , now completely free of the pressure, observed the deity before him. What he saw brought an unexpected amusement to his heart. Terror. Absolute, unadulterated, unmistakeable, undeniable terror.
'If I knew my father's name invoked such a strong reaction, even from gods…,' Blake thought internally. 'Then again, maybe this'll only work amongst the gods. Mortals and mortal cultivators don't seem to know much about him.'
"I-If I'd known who were, Son of the Great One…," Hodr pounded small and weak, as he completely resealed his aura and pressure that had been lingering on Blake . "Please, I humble myself before the son of the Great One. I seek forgiveness. I didn't know who you were, my lord!"
"Oh, I'm not too worried about that," Blake said, non-challantly.
"Y-you aren't?" Hodr was startled. He was sure this mortal would seek retribution. And, if he didn't…. GULP. His father would.
"Of course not," Blake said, shaking his head, waving aside the concern. "I mean, after all, I've already got my revenge. Your son is mine."
Then, with wide eyes like saucers, darkness and shadows, indigo and violet-black energy seemed to cascade around Hodr, forming a cocoon of sports around the divine possessed assassin. Even from Hodr's real body, entire dimensions away, the god felt the grip of something…more descend upon him, too paralyzed by what that more could possibly be. "W-what have you done? What is this, mortal?!"
"Shh, shh, don't fight it," Blake said in a soft voice, smiling — No, grinning — like a madman maniac, as mystically dark energy, shadows and darkness completely covered the assassin in a cocoon. "Don't feel too bad," he said, walking up to the cocoon, placing a hand upon its purple, black and indigo-mixed surface like an abstract work of art. "You'll be the first Shadowborn that's also one of my Tainted — You'll be a very powerful tool and a very fun toy… For me, anyway."
What Blake didn't know, as he sent the cocoon into his Shadow Space, was that the same thing had happened to a certain god entire realms away. And, as he eyed his blade that had Ashenborn's blood on it, fresh and crimson, he was hit with a sudden idea.
Testing the waters, he picked the blade up, and licked the blood. The abilities and traits contained within the blood rushed almost giddily to Blake 's Progenitor Seed. And, as it did, Blake immediately felt the changes done to his physical body undergo themselves. He felt his ears become pointy, like an elf's, his proficiency as well as the quality of healing factor had also increased. What's more, his species also grew a stronger healing factor in general now, too; those weaker than Blake didn't have a better healing factor than himself, unless they already had one; otherwise, they would have his base level Tier A healing factor as an average healing rate.
Furthermore, he felt his Progenitor Seed processed a few more things, like an increase in agility, proficiency of night vision and higher poison resistance — something it had absorbed from Night Viper's traits and abilities — They all increased from Tier A to Tier SS.
As this occurred, Blake was pleased with himself. He just stood toe to toe against a god-possessed — and lived to tell the tale! Sure, the god was definitely only partially powered and heavily restricted in that form, but that did not belittle the achievement itself. It really showed how much he has grown into his power and highlighted many of the ways he needed to grow in it as well.
'If I hadn't used my Taint ability in tandem with my Progenitor Seed that one time I managed to touch his forehead before I slammed Ashenborn through that tree with my shadow tendril skill,' Blake thought, deep in thought. 'I need to get stronger… But, first, I need to find the bears' den. Maybe I'll find some treasures there, who knows. And then I need to complete the next mission with the illegal poachers. Only then can I head back to the Academy. The weekend is almost over and I don't want to be late for class. I've already missed enough school, as is.'
Sending all his summons back, Blake re-summoned the shadow undead, alpha shadowflame bear, Ghostfyre. He ordered Ghostfyre to lead him to his cave, completely unaware of changes that were happening in another universe entirely because of his earlier confrontation…