Chapter 55: Fight or Flight

When the time came to show off his skills, to fight the enemy using the magical powers that he had studied and developed over the years, to use the power for which a god had kidnapped him, the boy froze in place.

It is the law of nature that appears whenever someone is in a dangerous situation, an instinct developed by each living being of nature: the instinct to survive.

Around him were deadly creatures that could kill him. He was already aware how powerful undead creatures were.

Even the (A) rank mage and swordsmen have a hard time fighting against them.

The priests and their holy power is the only way to deal with them easily, but he had something even better.

He was a blessed person with the blood that was blessed by itself. He had the power to use the lightning Aura that he had obtained in inheritance and aside from that, he had unique abilities that were unconventional, unique, and very useful in his current situation.

But... all that power was not going to save him if he did nothing.

’Move damnit!’

His heart was beating wildly as he watched the incomplete human-like beings, some skeletons, and some dark shadows that weren’t cast by any of these things present there.

These were monsters that were going to kill him if he did not move.

In a dangerous situation, the only thing people think they can do is to either fight or flee from the danger. Our instinct pushes us whenever that happens, whenever we come to face these situations.

But, there is one more response that many forget about, the third ’F’ of the critical response: Freeze.

’Move!’

He was frozen in place as he watched what was present around him, watched as the creatures slowly moved towards him, taking their time, knowing their prey was frozen in place.

The voice of the owner of this place, the dark voice that one can only fear, was talking to him right now. It was telling him how it was alright to do nothing at all. To let himself be taken by these creatures.

He was afraid right now and it was alright.

It was fine to be afraid, it was fine to be bad at something. He was imperfect because he was a human.

To be imperfect, to be a scared little boy, to want to do something but have an endless fear of the situation, of the past pressing you down was the most human response.

But, if he were to just let himself to and accept his fate, that he was not the best choice for either the Parliament or the things they were doing, he can accept this tomb as his new home.

If he stays here, he will not have to fight anyone. He will not have to suffer under the pressure of his family.

The voice promised him rewards, riches, and resources enough for him to live his entire life doing what he had wanted: to find the truths of the world.

[ "I have been in this world for over two thousand years. I can tell you about things that mortals will never know about... so choose me. Boy, choose me." ]

The voice was whispering to him, talking to him in a voice that was as hypnotising as the sweetest honey a hummingbird could want.

There was a hum in the air, one that ate away at him with each passing moment.

His mind was getting corrupted, but he did not know that yet.

He was frozen in place not because of the spirit or the undead, but because of his own shortcomings.

Right now, he knew what Andrew meant when he said he would die in a real life situation.

He had the power to fight back, he wanted to get out of here, to survive.

This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t live as a half-dead being hanging between the line of life and death.

He wanted to stay a human. He wanted to see the world with his own eyes, to find the truths as naturally as they were supposed to be found, to look and feel and to experience the world that was promised to him by his new family.

And yet, he was frozen.

And yet... he was still thinking about the dumb words of that dark voice.

"Ugh!"

He did not know what that future meant for him and his body was not listening to him. His legs were frozen, but he knew what would free him.

-Zaaa!

He conjured whatever energy he could and created a spark of lightning around himself.

This... wasn’t to protect his body from the creatures that were almost in front of his face.

"Arghhhh!"

This was meant for his useless body that froze in the face of danger. For his future, and for the future that he had pledged to help Them create.

[ "Looks like we won’t get along after all." ]

The voice sounded disappointed all of a sudden.

At the same time, the body that he had regained control over was now able to move. So, without hesitation, Arcos called out the particles of light from within him, giving them a shape, creating arrows out of light.

"Haaaa!"

He screamed as he released the arrows of holy light, throwing them in all directions around him, giving them not one but multiple targets.

-Swish. Swish. Swish!

The light arrows passed through the skulls of the undead, pierced through the core of the dark creatures, and destroyed the very heads of the zombies that fell lifeless when he was done.

[ "You think you’re all that, huh boyo?" ]

But his hell was just beginning as more undead creatures, much stronger than the previous wave, materialised around him out of the darkness.

"I don’t want you!" He declared while calling out to his Aura.

-Ooooooooooong!

The power that was born of his blood, given to his forefathers by the gods that world now prays to, dyed his hair white as thunder roared across the darkness.

-Crackle!

The bloodline abilities of Aura manifests in different forms across all individuals. Arcos, specifically, did not receive a power that manifested as a physical ability like the rest in his family.

He could not use his Aura to attack nor defend against anything else. What his Aura did, however, was to grant him access to something that was far deeper, and far more useful to someone like him, someone who could use the energies of different frequencies.

"Manifestation arts, holiness."

With the power of his Aura, he could push his mental capacity to a kind of limit where he achieved a state that was halfway to [Nirvana], the world liberation that was only achieved by the people called the Primus.

In this active Aura state, he could create any power, or the closest copy of that power. And he had studied all kinds of powers, especially those that the gods used, or granted to the priests.

The powers to fend off the evil.

[ "Ah..." ]

The demonic spirit watched something that he had watched four more times in the past: something that simply did not make sense.

[ "He is like them, huh?" ]

Every time someone steps into this tomb, they have to pass through the passage of death that the master of this tomb has prepared.

A long time ago when this tomb was unconquered by anyone, the passage tested and haunted every single being that ever dared enter it.

There were only a few brave who made it here, in this faraway point of the world, and challenged the tomb, but until now, only four people had ever passed this passage that represented something much bigger than undead or a demonic spirit.

What one faced in this darkness was a challenge that they cannot pass. A limit that was inherent to them alone.

Few people could ever go past what they were made of. Fewer, however, could accept their limitations and still have the blaze to look the danger right in the eye, to refuse the fate that was given to them.

-Ooooooooooong!

Just like the grand holy spell that a mere ten year boy was using right now, creating a Halo of authority above his head, a sight only seen before someone of at least the rank of a Saint within the Pantheon, the demonic spirit felt the same chill that he had felt when that young man and those four women gave him.

He wasn’t just a boy scared of the world. He was a young boy who was scared of the world and still did not have the will to surrender to it.

"Haaa... haaa..."

While Arcos did not know that he had fought in that darkness for ten straight hours, he was bloody and powerless once again when he was done.

He was on his knees when enemies stopped coming for him.

And... when right before he was falling unconscious, he felt a new warmth wrap around him.

The warmth of four pairs of hands, to be specific.

[ "He is worthy." ]

The owner of the tomb declared when the darkness left the world, and the only thing that now remained in this new room of the tomb, was a sight unfathomable to any human out there in the world.