Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1180: Boron's Rise (1)



As the rumbling of Aigas persisted, bringing the same foreboding experience as when it had occurred more than a week ago, following the end of the Premium Age Royale, the Carven sat by the wide portal which had once been the Extreme Formula - the seal that kept the Under and Aigas separate, restricting the fourth Deity, Boron.

A sombre atmosphere between the nineteen Carven, all ranked high and above the rest seemed to melt away the noise and leave only the catastrophic vibrations which acted as a prelude to what was to follow. All nineteen pairs of eyes looked at the channel leading below - under, really – with heavy expectation.

It was finally happening.

Among these Carven, one was more excited than the rest.

It did not show on her face, which looked as though it was made of black amethyst, but her heavily lashed eyes shone with a deeper ruby red glow than that of the others.

As this Carven sat, it wouldn't have been possible to guess that she was at least twenty-five meters tall, but both the dark lance in her hand, its tip stabbed into the ground, and the ferocious pressure she released to the surroundings, certainly suggested that even when discarding the matter of height, she was stood on a higher pedestals than her peers.

She was, after all, the Herald of Boron.

She had been awaiting Boron's rise, to finally become his vessel as he doled out his pent-up frustrations and hate on the surface.

It wouldn't be too long now.

"Where, pray tell, is that strange human? Should he not have been back by now? I assumed that since he played the greater role in releasing us, he might have felt honoured to be here, witnessing first hand the Lord's rise," one of the Carven said as he extricated his eyes from the portal and gazed at the Herald.

"I do not know. I share the same sentiment. He wasn't so foolish that he didn't recognise the destruction that would befall this world as a result of his actions. I would have thought he would have liked to make his presence and allegiance known to Lord Boron as soon as he appeared. He would be spared and even granted a place in our ranks. Yet now..." the Herald said and she looked into the far corner, where a number of the Summoners Guissepo had gathered around Pelian were huddled.

It was clear - because of the looks in their eyes - that Guissepo's continued absence continued to instil dreadful doses of fear in them. They felt abandoned.

"What shall we do with these then? I feel that human will not return," another Carven said.

The Herald sank into thought.

"Nothing. We will keep them. They have uncanny powers that allow them to reach out to creatures outside Aigas. They even use the Abyss to do it. I believe they will be valuable to us. I have no doubts that Lord Boron will have greater ambitions than this sorry land and its seas," she then said.

The Carven around her agreed with deep grins.

The thought of Lord Boron having unfathomable goals that might take them farther than this world excited them.

After such a long time without being able prowl any further than the bounds of the limited Under, it was a genuinely exciting prospect to have a promise for greater sights; for greater heights.

That privilege was also likely to be granted to the strongest among the Carven, and nineteen of the lot of them made up the group seated here, waiting for their Lord's rise.

Seeing the looks on the faces of her fellow Carven, the Herald was urged to encourage them.

"When the Lord takes over my body, he will have memories of your names and deeds. He will certainly reward you better than the others. I assure it," she said and the eighteen others bowed in gratitude.

At that moment, it happened.

There was a blinding flash of light whose source was barely discernible to any of the Carven and then, before they all knew it, the Herald was lifted into the air.

She soared upward with a grace that suggested that, to the force behind her ascension, she weighed no more than the air.

Her dark body was straight as an arrow as it pierced through the clouds and only came to a halt after it had overcome their overwhelming mass. At this height, all that could be seen was the pretty white, fluffy cover below the open, untouched blue sky.

The Herald then convulsed and jerked.

Her body began to shatter, bursts of thin light flashing from the cracks made into her dark, stone skin. Her visage was finally vibrant with character, with emotion - her ruby red eyes bulging, her mouth opening wide. Her carved, stone hair went livid, flying in all directions animatedly.

Then, as though the pretty, rough textures of her body were merely a shell hiding a far more, profound, extraordinary beauty, they all fell away, making room for a pristine, starkly white being.

Unlike the Herald, this being compelled the clouds to scurry away as quickly as they could.

Unlike the Herald, this being's figure was five meters taller, and had a robust, masculine build.

Short hair was carved onto his being which still resembled some kind of stone - quite like marble - along with a thick, curly beard.

His eyes glimmered not with a ruby red glow, but an all-consuming obsidian hue. With them, he gazed around him with about as much curiosity as that of a new-born baby and then

looked below.

He saw everything.

He felt everything.

How curious it all was.

After all this time... he was finally here.

He was finally free.

That pact he made with those other three so long ago was finally fulfilled.

It took quite a while, longer than he had expected, but all the same.

A subdued, mocking chuckle left his lips.

<They couldn't even wait for me?>

The disappointment was nearly palpable in the voice that came from him; it sounded as though it came in several different tones and from four different directions.

<You know they could not.>

An unwanted reply came to Boron right then, as the sky parted, cracking like a Cluster. A young, human woman crossed from it and floated before the massive Deity branded in glorious stone. Her gaze was unwavering, bold even, though painted with hints of sadness.

<Ah... Of course. It could only have been you they left behind, my dearest>