Butterfly's axiom opened, covering the whole stadium in it. Immediately the destroyed field disappeared, being engulfed by a thin lair of grass.
The scenery changed completely, the bright Sun lightening up a green clean field where the two of them were.
Looking around him, Eryon was confused by what just happened, but paid no mind as in the next second charged straight at her.
Each of his steps left footprints behind him, leaving the grass lifeless as he approached her.
Butterfly held her daggers in a defensive position, ready to intercept Eryon's attack.
"Let's do this!"
She yelled at the unstoppable force that came her way.
Reaching her, Eryon prepared his strike just to hit next not Butterfly, but a heavy rock, making it shatter in pieces.
The scenery began to change, around Eryon rocks ascending to the sky as mountains formed. Butterfly riding one of them.
"Or not."
Butterfly taunted him as she waved down to him.
Fighting him directly would be suicide, the best way to exhaust his mana is to run for now.
Roaring once, Eryon jumped after her, leaving behind him a crater.
As he reached for the heavens, he prepared another strike while he was in mid-air, descending then to hit Butterfly.
Butterfly stood still like she was ready to welcome his strike, but in the next second the rock that she stood on began to descend as well rapidly, Eryon starting to fall with his sword ready to land on her.
Just as they were ready to reach the ground, the scenery changed once again, Butterfly taking a swift jump behind, retreating far as sand covered the whole field.
Landing on the sea of sand, an explosion took place as sand and dust was blown in the air, heating up quickly and cooling down just as fast, the sand falling down as shiny sparks of glass.
Eryon roared once again, walking again through the shiny rain of glass.
"You seem quite heated."
The scenery began to change again. This time snowflakes began to fall as trees and a mountain covered in snow emerged from the ground.
"How about you cool down a little?" Butterfly taunted him once again, making him run towards her in a desperate attempt to catch her. The snow behind him melting down with every step.
Full of rage with only hatred in his eyes covered by his helmet, Eryon didn't even realise that from the mountain an avalanche came his way.
The heavy snow dropped rapidly, only to gather more fuel, becoming bigger and wilder with every second.
In the end, Eryon was hit directly by the wave of thick snow that engulfed him rapidly, making him disappear.
Only white. That was all Eryon could see for a moment.
He blinked once. Only snow.
He blinked again. Still snow.
The third time he blinked, the white faded, replaced by something else. A memory long buried.
He saw through the eyes of a man looking back at the smiling faces of his comrades. Before him, a greatsword stood embedded in solid rock.
Without thinking, he placed his hand on the hilt, lifting it with ease to admire the craftsmanship.
The sword was pristine, despite having been forgotten in that damp cave for years. Its blade was razor-sharp, untouched by rust. But the moment he held it, the energy within began to surge uncontrollably.
Black mana erupted, coating the steel in darkness with a crimson hue. An ominous pressure filled the cave, suffocating the air.
The man tried to drop the sword, but his fingers wouldn't obey. He had lost control of his own body.
"I can't open my hand!" the man yelled in panic, struggling against his own grip.
His comrades jumped to help him, pulling at his arm, but it was in vain. The sword refused to let go. Realizing there was no other way, one of them made a grim decision.
The comrade unsheathed his own sword, swinging down to sever the man's arm at the elbow.
*CLANG!*
The steel bounced off the man's skin as if he were made of iron.
At that point, the man screamed at the top of his lungs. The chaotic energy of the sword stabilized, but the corruption had already taken root. Black blood began to drip from his nose while black tears streamed from his eyes.
"Kaelen, Gareth, Ostric! Seize him!" the leader commanded, sensing the danger immediately.
"But sir, he is one of us!" Kaelen, the youngest of the group, hesitated.
"Just do what I told you, boy!" The leader raised his voice, gripping his weapon. "...I feel something evil."
Reluctantly, they approached the man, who stood frozen after the initial surge of energy.
As they got close, his body reacted on its own, raising the blade against his own brothers.
"I feared this would happen. Men, kill him immediately!"
Hearing the order, all three knights were left stunned, paralyzed by hesitation.
"But sir—"
Kaelen's voice was cut short as the man dashed forward. With a single, fluid motion, the boy's head was severed from his shoulders.
"Damn it!"
Gareth reacted, thrusting his spear, only to be parried effortlessly and kicked away with bone-crushing force.
"How dare you!"
Ostric struck the man's shoulder with his axe. But the blade didn't cut flesh. Instead, it bounced off as a spectral black armor materialized for a split second, protecting him.
The man followed with a counter-slash, severing Ostric's hand, followed by a punch to the stomach that sent him flying into the wall, bleeding profusely.
"I heard legends about that sword, but I never wanted to believe they were true." The leader stood his ground, just two meters away from the monster his subordinate had become.
"A cursed sword from a thousand years ago. One that once threatened to destroy this world when it was first found. Its only objective being only destruction."
The man… no, the sword… listened closely, letting him speak.
"I never agreed to this expedition. But because of the dire state our nation is in, and the sweet talk of our King, I gave in… It seems I was a fool to believe that a curse would disappear in time," the leader said calmly, though regret heavy in his voice.
The man, hearing enough, began to approach him, the leader readying his stance.
When the man got close, the leader struck with all his might…all in vain. His sword bounced off the invisible layer of armor.
In the next instant the man didn't even use his blade, he simply punched the leader once, planting him into the stone wall of the cave.
Stepping past the dying leader, the man faced the remaining two knights, who had started to flee toward the exit.
Concentrating mana into the blade, the man unleashed a wave of dark energy. It swept through the cave, cutting them both in half before they could reach the light.
Becoming the sole living soul in the cave, he stood there, frozen. Not moving at all.
A minute?
An hour?
A day?
Time lost all meaning. He stood like a statue in the suffocating darkness.
What… What happened?
Consciousness slowly returned to him. He blinked, looking around, perplexed.
"What?"
The horror crashed down on him the moment he saw the bodies. His comrades, butchered and broken in front of him. And as if the sight wasn't enough, the memories surged back into his mind, forcing him to relive every strike, every kill.
"NOOO!"
He screamed in agony, his voice tearing through his throat, refusing to believe that the butcher was him.
He fell to his knees, pounding the hard rock with his fist, again and again, until his knuckles bled.
"Kaelen… Gareth… Ostric… I am sorry… I am so sorry!"
Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood on his skin as he yelled his friends' names into the void.
"...Alaric, you w-were right… we shouldn't h-have come here," he stuttered between sobs, mourning the brave souls he had destroyed.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
Before he could even speak of the others, a sound pierced his grief. Laughter.
The man froze, his eyes snapping to the sword in his hand.
"You did it!"
"You killed them!"
"We are free now."
"Can we go home now?"
Multiple voices echoed in the small space. The voices of men, women, even children… all overlapping, speaking simultaneously in a cacophony of madness.
"Shut up."
The man covered his ears, desperate to block them out.
"SHUT UP!"
He screamed once more, and the chaotic voices vanished instantly.
Silence lingered in the cold air. Heavy. Oppressive. Until a single voice, unlike any other, broke through.
"You picked it."
A deep, ancient voice resonated in the cave.
"What? Who are you?"
"Manachor."
With that the voice faded slowly into the darkness.
Back in the Butterfly's Axiom, the heavy silence of the snow-covered mountain remained unbroken. Eryon did not emerge from the avalanche.
"You need to calm down."
Butterfly whispered to herself, staring at the white mountain. She was already breathing heavily, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as her mana drained fast maintaining the axiom.