Chapter 557 Son of Ruin
Chapter 557 Son of Ruin
The world itself trembled at the announcement of that name.
Argexes… a name Kieran had been warned of numerous times but had no accurate knowledge of.
Everyone who spoke of this name did so with extreme caution, dire expressions, and grim intonation — as if simply speaking that name could give it some semblance of power.
Then again, the only ones to speak the name Argexes were the ones that bore a connection to the Monarch, which was a segue into Kieran’s next question. Or rather, a question he always had but could never find an answer to, which likely borrowed from the intent to keep knowledge of Monarchs on a tight leash and buried. .
‘What… is a Monarch?’
He understood it was a Demon, yes. But was that all a Monarch could be? It didn’t seem quite right.
Argexes is… was… will be known as one of those Monarchs. The displaced time made it difficult for Kieran to establish how his mind should refer to Argexes in the now. If he went off the birth of Argexes, he was not purely a Demon but a human and something diabolical.
Perhaps being born an amalgam made him much greater than he should be.
Kieran revisited everything he knew but soon realized the time around him had slowed to an absolute crawl. He somehow maintained omnidirectional vision, creating a flawless sphere of perception. He could see Adeia and the two Archmasters in its purview amidst a sluggish clash.
All of this was incredibly bizarre. Reality… reality was changing, being ruined.
‘What realm of power does a Monarch refer to? Is this it? Is it even a realm of power… or just a title?’
Kieran couldn’t quite answer his question, but he could speak to his feelings on the matter. The fact it felt so impossible was a testament to the absurd abilities a Monarch commanded.
Of course, only some of what Kieran thought up was simple conjecture. Some of his impressions came from a place of certainty.
A Monarch was being of ineffable power. This could not be impugned, for the proof half-knelt in the Ravaged Plains. Of course, there was the slight prospect of Argexes having yet to reach the state of a Monarch, but Kieran’s instincts told him otherwise.
It didn’t take a visionary with obscene levels of creativity and imagination to fathom what Argexes did simply by half-kneeling in Ravaged Plains with his head hung long.
Argexes was an unfathomable adversary with reality-altering powers. What with the cowering of the world, Kieran grasped an inkling of what the title of a Monarch referred to.
More than just ineffable power, a Monarch was a being capable of ruling a Boundary through presence alone. The sheer vastness of their Authority could not be contained within their body, and as a consequence, reality suffered, bending at the whims of that unbridled power.
Whether this was all accurate, Kieran didn’t know, but he did know Argexes’ current situation was not complete.
The power inside Argexes was dormant but gradually awakening as he adapted to his current physique, which was strange.
Why was it awakening and not immediately regained? That hinted that this power didn’t rightfully belong to the Hollow Body of Ruin to begin with.
To best put it in words, Kieran felt this was a situation where the product was greater than the sum of its parts. It was a union that brought forth devastating consequences. Kieran’s other feelings from watching this scene unfold as a neutral spectator couldn’t be put into words.
At least, Kieran didn’t know the proper words to describe this dormant power. It was… inexpressible.
Curious, Kieran attempted to peer beneath the surface by accessing the Realm.
‘Wait… what’s going on here?’
Needless to say, Kieran’s attempts were unsuccessful. He tried delving deeper into the source of this power by accessing the Realm and inspecting its nature but then, he didn’t feel anything.
All he felt was… nothing. Dark, devouring, and ravenous… nothing. A bloody abyss where a ruinous maw blended seamlessly into the dark. It kept consuming.
This was an unpleasant turn of events for Kieran.
Though Kieran had learned the Trial did little to recreate his soul but rather… projected his mind into a facsimile of the past, he at least had some semblance of control over the body itself, making it feel like his own.
Despite being an effigy from the Tapestry of Woven Time, Valdu’s body suited Kieran remarkably well.
Aside from the understanding that he would lose the power he gained, Kieran had no other gripes with becoming Valdu. And the pain of being burned and reforged by what Kieran called the Flame of Ruin wrongfully convinced Kieran that he still mattered.
Sadly, another peculiarly jarring feeling hit him in a tidal wave — he could no longer feel his connection to Valdu.
Perhaps he should have suspected as much when his Aspect, makeshift Mystic Gate in the form of the Furthered Scales of Balance and the Testament of a Fiend’s Defiance, burned away to nothing, leaving Valdu’s Realm altogether. The pain he felt shouldn’t have swayed him to believe he still had a role but instead should have alerted Kieran to the grim reality, as should the words spoken.
Bear witness.
The Trialmaster had spoken directly into Kieran’s mind, telling him to bear witness. What did it mean to bear witness though? At first, Kieran thought it meant to watch, but that was a misconception.
What the Trialmaster wanted… was for him to learn the truth of this Trial, which he was. He learned that Argexes had been a Fiend who became a walking calamity given permanence and purpose through the Flame’s efforts.
Kieran was to learn the truth as the Trial’s end showed an existence that shouldn’t be but was.
The Fiend that stepped far beyond what a Fiend should be… could do.
Being delegated to an inconsequential presence, who could only bear witness but muster no effect on the events to come, left a sour taste in Kieran’s mouth after being in the driver’s seat for so long.
It was like a child having their treat taken away right after reaching the best part.
Kieran wanted to wield that power and get a taste of what it could do, even if it was a mere tease. He had to sate his curiosity. But no matter how much he struggled, he could not attach to that link he formed with the forgotten presence Valdu.
It took a few seconds, but the realization ultimately struck the delusional young man.
He sought Valdu, but Valdu was no longer. There was no foothold for Kieran’s psyche to gain purchase on. The Realm had been burned smooth, purged by Ruin. In a sense, Kieran benefited from experiencing this, though.
His Aspect was the negation that Ruin brought, which was precisely what the process of birthing Argexes had accomplished.
Of course, Valdu was not the only thing that disappeared. The Hollow Body of Ruin had disappeared too, which, as the Flame said, was not truthfully a “Body.”
Kieran didn’t understand it, but it felt more like an empty Mind than a Body, but Kieran wasn’t sure what that meant.
Nevertheless, the union of Valdu and the Hollow Body of Ruin birthed Argexes — an amalgam of resentment, vengeance, dread, hatred, despair, and desolation.
He was the Son of the Fallen, Monarch of Ruin… and Tyrant of the Maddened.
From his half-kneeling position, Argexes rose, his black-red hair matted with blood flowing like a mantle of death from between his crown of majestic, dread-inspiring horns.
The Flame drifted before Argexes’ eyes, grinning maniacally with a fire burning deep in its hollow pits.
“You are strong, my child. Stronger than ever. Now, effect Ruin upon everything.”
Contrary to the Flame’s expectations, however, Argexes simply stared at the floating apparition with a listless, hollow gaze.
“Are you giving me orders, Father?”
‘Oh, hell…’