Chapter 1240: The Oracle of Oblivion

Oblivion continued to pour from my soul like water from a broken dam. The frigid chill that had enveloped me had vanished, and now, all I felt was power. It surged through every vein and every fiber of my soul, bringing pulsing heat in its wake. Not warmth, exactly, but something that made me feel alive and invigorated.

I’d felt this power before, and even absorbed it. It was the same strength that had filled my soul as I dwelt on the edge of eternity. Not the power of Fate, as I’d once believed. No, it was the power of Oblivion.

"Impossible," Grand Inquisitor Korvin hissed, slashing at me several times with his sword.

I flinched, falling back, but the blade passed through me as though I were a remnant.

His eyes narrowed in anger, and he changed tactics, his golden sword shimmering as it morphed into a spear of blinding light. He held it aloft and summoned a vast storm of sunlight around us.

The light fell short, never reaching more than a few inches from my skin. Its heat was hollow. Not even my horns reacted with their typical sensitivity.

"Die, filthblood!" the Grand Inquisitor snarled, hurling the spear at me.

It crossed the few paces between us in the blink of an eye and phased through me. It carried on with devastating force, obliterating the doors to the chamber and striking the wall in the hallway outside. The entirety of the Dusk Chambers trembled from the force of the explosion.

Waves of light washed back through the doors, scouring the walls of ornamentation and engulfing the room. Humans were resistant to Sun Magic, but against a ninth-level inquisitor’s art, their screams filled the hall. The weaker inquisitors staggered and fell, writhing as they collapsed onto the glowing red stonework that paved the floor. Even the stronger ones staggered back, their flesh blackening and blistering. Some collapsed onto the stone that glowed red from the heat, curling into charred heaps.

Korvin didn’t even blink at the carnage around him. He simply wove another attack and let it loose, his eyes narrowing as it failed.

"You’re shackled," he growled, glaring at me through the haze of darkness. "You can’t use mana."

I stared down at my hands, feeling the weight of the iron binding my wrists. They were working. I could feel them suppressing my aura, and that was precisely why the darkness had finally come free.

"Who decided that?" I asked softly, looking up to meet the Grand Inquisitor’s gaze. Sunlight continued to roar around the room, but against me, it felt no stronger than a summer breeze.

He scoffed. "The laws of magic are immutable. What trick have you used? What foul demon spawn have you called upon for aid?"

"The laws of magic are immutable?" At last, I understood it. The power that Fyren wielded. The power that Fate stood opposite to. Fate was things when they were, and Oblivion was things when they weren’t. To become one, they had to pass through the other. A cycle of creation where two primeval forces balanced each other, order given to the gods and chaos to the demons.

"There is only one law," I said, taking a step forward.

I don’t know what he saw in my face, but the Grand Inquisitor took a step back.

"What is, and what is not."

The shadows spread, leaking out like flames. Sunlight vanished where they touched, swallowed into the void. The inquisitors that could still move gathered themselves, hissing and groaning in pain, their weapons pointed at me.

"Even if this is infernal magic, what can you do, filthblood? You’re surrounded and chained by the Sun God’s curse. This space is under my complete control. You can’t summon any allies to fight for you, not even from your little realm. When your power fades, and it will, given the toll it’s taking on you, you will be at our mercy. Best surrender now, and I might consider having some mercy."

I looked around slowly, my gaze settling on a silhouette visible between the black stars of Oblivion. My lips curved into a slight smile.

No wonder I’d never been able to see or sense her. How could I, when she hadn’t existed?

"There’s more than one way to fight a battle," I said, returning my gaze to the inquisitors.

They were still warded by powerful magic, but even if I did nothing, it wouldn’t matter. I wasn’t content with that.

My hand drifted toward my chest, my finger circling around the ring of the Soul Binder. Did they know what it was like to lose everything? To have the strength they depended on stolen by the snap of another’s fingers?

My aura roiled, surging forward. The inquisitors shouted in surprise, bracing themselves as it rolled over them. Their magic and wards melted away. Armor dulled, and swords lost their gleam. Grand Inquisitor Korvin gasped as he stumbled, feeling, for perhaps the first time, the full weight of his armor.

"Heavy, isn’t it?" I murmured, shivering as the cold began to creep back in.

"What did you do to me?" he gasped, dropping to one knee. "You’re shackled!"

"Magic meant more than anything to me. It was my only comfort, my only true friend," I whispered. "You took that from me. You stole everything I had, and then gave me to that man. He forced me to watch him. He... he hurt her. He... I couldn’t stop him. Because of you. Now, you can feel what I felt. The sorrow and the despair. How it feels when everything comes to its end."

It wasn’t just their armor. My aura plunged deep, stabbing into their very souls. Fate allowed me to see and manipulate them, even build them. Oblivion took everything.

"Please," a woman gasped, coughing weakly as tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d been strong enough to bear her injuries without a second thought, but now magic no longer coursed through her veins.

"Enough," Korvin growled, forcing himself to his feet.

He grasped his sword, and I felt a flicker of uncertainty as Sun Magic curled across the blade. My aura was thin now, spread across the chamber. I no longer had the protection I once had.

He took a step toward me, and then another. Truly, a ninth-level soul was frightening.

I needn’t have worried, for at last, Jessia made her move.

She materialized as if from the depths of my aura, rising behind the Grand Inquisitor. Chains of darkness erupted from the ground, binding his limbs and dragging him to his knees. He tore at them, but whatever strength he mustered wasn’t enough against the Apostle of Secrets.

"How dare you turn the Chains of Retribution against—"

He froze, his lips parting as he met the apostle’s gaze.

"Lord Korvin," she said in a silky smooth voice. "It’s been a while."

"Jessia," he spat, his eyes blazing. "What in the hells are you doing?"

He stiffened as she glided around him, a delicate hand caressing his jaw and turning his head in an oddly intimate gesture.

"I’m surprised you remember me," she purred, leaning close.

"I remember every sorry, broken soul crafted under my hand. You were great once. Truly gifted for the art. But you died. I saw your corpse. What has happened to you?"

"Turns out there’s something after the end. A new beginning." She shot me a wink.

I swallowed hard, the chills growing deeper. Wielding Oblivion had a price, it seemed, and I was beginning to suffer it.

"Quit this foolishness," he growled. "Whatever your circumstances, they can’t justify this. I will turn a blind eye if you seize the apostle. You seem to be the only one immune to her power."

"You don’t seem to understand, my lord." Her voice hardened, sharpening like a knife’s edge. "I’m not here for her, and I’ll admit I considered waiting until you’d had your fun before stepping in. I’m here for you. You see, there’s something you have that I want."

Oblivion’s long, curved dagger appeared in her hand, the point pressing against his throat. He shivered as a single bead of blood rolled down its edge. It vanished into nothingness before it reached the hilt.

"Speak it, and it shall be done."

"Hmm. Begging. What was it you always instructed us to do once someone begged without cause?" she asked rather cavalierly.

He gritted his teeth. She bared hers in a catlike smile.

"Oh, that’s right. Give them a reason."

Her knife blurred, and he grunted as a long black cut appeared across his armor. The dagger had passed cleanly through it as though it wasn’t there, drawing a steady stream of blood down the once-gleaming steel plates. I turned away, biting my lip hard.

"Not bad, hmm? I still remember everything you taught me. Like this, for instance."

Korvin hissed in pain, and Jessia laughed.

"You know, you were a little too arrogant. For all your talk of our little Oracle’s tactics, you never even considered changing your own. How confident you must have been with your secret technique for sealing space and those carefully prepared anti-magic tools. It’s a shame there’s someone out there who already knows about them."

"What do you want?" he growled.

Her smile slipped, and for a moment, her aura turned jagged. She quickly smoothed it over, but her eyes continued to glitter.

"Just one question. What is my name?"

"Jessia. Servant of the Gods. What other name could there be?"

Her eyes narrowed. "My name, Inquisitor."

He grimaced, and she pressed a palm against his chest. I couldn’t see what she did, for the Oracle of Eternity was suppressed, but he began to writhe and scream.

"My name," she repeated, letting the power lapse.

Korvin sagged, breathing heavily.

"Roseburn," he rasped. "You were tithed from House Roseburn."