The Life After Death

  Chapter 21: The Final Hours

  The darkness of the cavern remained unchanged, the distant crackle of the dying fire offering the only warmth in the silent space.

  What felt like mere moments of rest had stretched into hours, the weight of exhaustion keeping me trapped in unconsciousness. But something pulled me back. A sensation—an urgency.

  My body stirred before my mind caught up, and as awareness slowly crept in, my eyes snapped open.

  My heart pounded. Asmodean.

  Panic surged as I jolted upright, my hands instinctively reaching for him. He was still there, his head resting in my lap, his body unnaturally still. The glow of the cavern flickered dimly against his pale skin, his breath shallow, but still there.

  He's still breathing. I let out a shaky exhale, relief flooding through me.

  For the next few hours, I remained by his side, tending to him as best as I could. I adjusted his position, made sure he was warm, and kept the fire from dying out. Every few minutes, I checked his pulse, watching his chest rise and fall in an uneven rhythm.

  In between, I hurried to the stream, conjuring a small sphere of water—only for it to collapse and splash through my fingers before I could even turn back toward Asmodean. My control slipped too quickly; I couldn’t hold it long enough to be useful.

  Instead, I grabbed a small wooden cup from the supplies, filling it carefully and bringing it back, gently pressing it to Asmodean’s lips, letting small sips trickle in to keep him hydrated.

  Seeing the sweat forming along his brow, I knew I had to cool him down. Without hesitation, I tore off a strip from the bottom of my pants, dipping it into the cold stream before returning to his side.

  I carefully pressed the damp cloth against his forehead, letting the coolness seep in, hoping it would help. Each time it dried too quickly, I repeated the process, keeping his temperature from rising too much.

  The uncertainty gnawed at me. You’re strong, old man, staring at his motionless form. You’ve got this.

  I couldn’t lose him.

  The cavern’s eerie silence made the waiting unbearable. My thoughts drifted to the vision—the screams, the terror, the voice.

  Then, after hours of waiting, his body stirred. A weak breath escaped him before a single word left his lips.

  "Emrys."

  My breath caught. He never called me by my name. He had only said it once before. The sound of it from his lips sent a surge of emotions through me, and before I could stop myself, my vision blurred with tears.

  "You’re awake!" I choked, pressing a trembling hand to his shoulder. "Old man, you nearly scared me to death."

  Asmodean's eyes barely opened, exhaustion evident, but his lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Hmph… you still worry too much, boy."

  I let out a watery laugh, wiping my face before grabbing the nearby bowl of berries and water. "Here. Eat. You need to regain your strength."

  Asmodean grumbled but took the berries without protest, chewing slowly. I watched his every movement, relief mixing with frustration.

  I hesitated, then frowned. "Old man… what happened earlier? When you collapsed."

  He waved a dismissive hand, mouth still full. "Hmph. Tripped over my own greatness. Happens more often than you’d think."

  I didn’t laugh.

  He noticed immediately. I leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "I’m serious. That wasn’t just exhaustion. Something was wrong."

  Asmodean sighed through his nose, clearly annoyed that his joke hadn’t worked. He swallowed, then shrugged. "You worry too much, boy. Leave it be."

  I held his gaze, unmoving.

  For a moment, something hardened behind his eyes. The humor faded—not completely, but enough. "It’s not for you to concern yourself with," he said quietly. "That burden is mine to carry."

  That answer didn’t sit right with me. I stared at him, my jaw tightening as the words echoed in my head.

  Asmodean never hid things unless he thought the truth would hurt—or burden—me. So why now? Why deflect, why push it aside with that same tired finality?

  What are you protecting me from… old man?

  The thought lingered, heavy and uncomfortable. Whatever he was hiding, it wasn’t small. And the fact that he thought it was his burden alone made my chest ache more than I wanted to admit.

  For the next half hour, we sat there, exchanging small jabs as he regained some of his energy. It was comforting, familiar—like all the times before. But as we continued, a thought lingered at the back of my mind, pulling at me like an anchor.

  The vision.

  I swallowed hard before speaking. "Old man… the pain I always feel… the visions… tell me. What are they?"

  Asmodean stilled. His usual sharpness dulled, his eyes lowering, as if a weight unseen pressed upon him. For a moment, he didn't speak, only staring into the flickering firelight, his expression unreadable.

  The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken. His fingers twitched against his knee, a subtle tell—hesitation, reluctance.

  Then, he exhaled slowly, the breath carrying with it something more than just air.

  "They are my past."

  His voice was quieter, not weak, but distant—like he was forcing the words out against years of restraint. Against something he had never wanted to say aloud.

  My expression tensed, my lips pressing together as my grip tightened on my knee. I didn’t say anything, but deep down, I knew it. I had known it for some time.

  "The moment we connected, you became tethered to me. And through that, you feel the remnants of my pain, my memories. They are not yours, but they pass through you because of our bond."

  I felt my stomach twist. "The screams… the terror… who were they?"

  His gaze drifted toward the fire. "People I swore to protect but lost. Friends. Family. The love I failed to save. My wife."

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest tightening. The weight in his voice, the sorrow behind it—it was more than just words. It was grief, etched deep into every syllable.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You don’t have to relive it. I understand."

  The screams, the pain, the unbearable grief—I had felt them as if they were my own. I had just never admitted it to myself until now.

  A silence stretched between us, but in that quiet, there was understanding. Asmodean had always kept his past close to his chest, and now I knew why.

  But the moment of stillness passed as something settled in my chest. I straightened, my gaze hardening. "No more riddles, no more cryptic nonsense. Tell me the truth, all of it."

  Asmodean lifted a brow, but there was no amusement in his expression. "I have always told you the truth, boy."

  "Not all of it," I countered. "I need to know. The rift, your mana, you."

  He let out a slow breath. "You’re right."

  I tensed as he continued. "I’m sorry for not telling you everything. The rift is nearly done. But… the final stage has taken longer than expected. I won't lie to you, boy—I have been enjoying our time together so much, that I thought for a moment that I was just selfishly delaying it, that I wanted more time. But the truth is, my mana is running out."

  I stiffened. "Running out? What does that mean?"

  Asmodean met my gaze, his expression unreadable, yet behind it, I could see the weight of what he was about to say pressing down on him. His voice was steady, but there was a finality in it that sent a chill through me.

  "There is a reason my mana is always leaking. I am dying."

  The words hit harder than any blow I had ever taken. My chest tightened, the air in my lungs vanishing.

  "I have been using the last of my mana to create the rift for you to get out. I thought we could have more time... I wanted more time. But every second, I feel it slipping away, and there is nothing I can do to stop it."

  His voice wavered just slightly, and that terrified me more than anything else. This was Asmodean—the unshakable presence, the immovable force that had guided me, trained me, protected me. And now, he was telling me he was fading away.

  I felt something crack inside me, but I couldn’t let the emotions overwhelm me. Not yet. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to scream, to demand that he stop speaking, to deny everything he was saying. But deep down, I had known. I had seen the signs. I just didn’t want to believe them.

  Asmodean sighed, his gaze never leaving mine. "This is the truth, boy. No riddles, no games. I need you to understand."

  A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. My throat tightened as I shook my head. "No. No, you’re not—why? Why are you doing this? Why are you killing yourself for me?"

  His voice was firm, but there was something else beneath it—a quiet sorrow, a certainty that made my stomach churn. "Because I have to. And because I want to."

  I shook my head, my breathing uneven. "But why? Why does it have to be you? Why does it have to cost you everything?"

  He exhaled, his gaze steady but tired. "Because this is the only way. My time was always going to run out, boy. At least now, it means something. At least now, I can make sure you live."

  I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the ache building in my chest. "That’s not fair. You—you should have told me. We could have found another way!"

  He gave a small, sad smirk. "There is no other way. This is the price that must be paid. And I'd pay it a thousand times over if it meant keeping you safe."

  My breath hitched as my vision blurred, my chest tightening unbearably. I opened my mouth, but no words came. What could I even say? The weight of his sacrifice pressed down on me, suffocating in its certainty.

  My lips trembled, and before I could stop them, tears welled in my eyes, spilling silently down my cheeks. I clenched my fists, my body stiff, trying to hold back the sob that threatened to escape.

  I knew it. I had seen the signs, felt the changes, but I had ignored them—because facing the truth was too painful.

  Asmodean watched me, his gaze softening for the first time. "Come now, boy. Don't give me that look." His voice was lighter, almost teasing, but I could hear the exhaustion beneath it. "I thought you were stronger than this."

  I swallowed hard, forcing myself to take a shaky breath. But the ache in my chest didn't fade. I knew he was trying to make this easier on me. I also knew he was failing.

  Suddenly, Asmodean’s expression shifted; so abruptly it was as if the weight of the moments before had been cast aside entirely.

  The teasing glint in his tired eyes disappeared, replaced by something sharp—alert. His gaze snapped to the cavern’s ceiling, his body tensing in a way that sent a chill through me.

  "How long?" His voice, once weak, now carried urgency.

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  I blinked through the blur of my tears. "What?"

  His eyes locked onto mine, piercing. "How long, boy? How long have I been unconscious?"

  The tension in his voice sent my stomach twisting. "I—I don’t know. Maybe four or five hours?" My words were shaky, uncertain. "Why does it matter?"

  Asmodean didn’t answer. Instead, he gritted his teeth and forced himself up, groaning as his body protested. "We need to go. Now."

  I scrambled to my feet after him, confused. "Wait—what? What’s going on?"

  He swayed slightly but steadied himself, gripping his staff. "No time to explain. We’re heading to the rift immediately."

  "But it’s still one month early!" I argued, my chest tightening with dread. "I thought—"

  "Emrys!" His voice boomed, raw and desperate.

  I froze, my breath catching as his gaze bore into me. And with it, just for an instant, I felt it—That overwhelming force I had only sensed once before. The crushing weight of bloodlust. The despair that drowned the air itself. The suffocating presence that had first paralyzed me when I met him.

  It was back.

  The sudden shift in his presence snapped my mind awake, shoving aside my confusion and emotions. My heart pounded as my instincts screamed at me—Focus. Now.

  "Please. Just listen and trust me, boy. I will explain when we get there."

  His words hit something deep inside me, deeper than just fear or urgency. There was something more in his eyes—a plea, a desperation I had never seen before.

  I swallowed hard, my hands clenched into fists before slowly nodding. "Alright. What do we do?"

  Without another word, he reached for his robe, taking my dagger from my side. With swift, precise cuts, he sliced the fabric down to my size before draping it over me. "Take this. We’re leaving now."

  Asmodean grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, his pace urgent despite the weariness in his body.

  We moved deeper into the cavern, further than I had ever gone before. The air grew colder, thicker with something I couldn’t place. The ground beneath us sloped downward, jagged rock formations casting eerie shadows against the dim blue glow of the luminescent flora that clung to the walls.

  "Why are we running?" I panted, struggling to keep up with his long strides. "What’s happening?"

  He didn’t answer.

  His expression had hardened into something unreadable, his sharp eyes darting ahead as if expecting something to appear. My chest tightened at the sight of his unwavering focus.

  Asmodean was rarely rattled, rarely this silent. Something was wrong. I could feel it in the way his grip tightened around my wrist, in the way his usually smooth movements now carried an edge of urgency.

  "Old man!" I tried again. "Talk to me!"

  Still, he didn’t respond, but his pace quickened. The silence between us was deafening, filled only by the sound of our hurried footsteps echoing through the cavernous space.

  Then, suddenly, the tunnel widened, opening into a vast chamber unlike any I had seen before. The walls pulsed faintly, as if mana itself bled through the cracks, illuminating the space in a haunting glow of deep purples and eerie blues.

  The air was heavy, charged with energy that prickled against my skin. And at the centre of it all—hovering slightly above the ground's jagged rock formation—was the rift.

  It wasn’t what I had expected. It wasn’t a portal, not in the way I had imagined. It was raw, unstable—a tear in reality itself.

  It crackled with uncontrolled energy, like lightning caught in a never-ending loop, distorting the very space around it. The edges shimmered and fractured, as though the world struggled to contain it. Every few seconds, tendrils of pure mana lashed outward before collapsing back in, like a living, breathing thing trying to break free.

  Asmodean came to a stop, his grip finally loosening on my wrist as he turned to face me. His gaze was unreadable, but his voice was firm when he spoke.

  "We’re here. Now listen carefully, boy. What I’m about to tell you may not make sense. But promise me—promise me you’ll listen to everything I say."

  I swallowed hard, my heart still pounding from our sprint. "Old man, what is—"

  Asmodean raised his voice, cutting me off before I could say more. "Promise me!

  I swallowed hard again, my chest tightening at the urgency in his voice. "I... I promise."

  Asmodean exhaled, nodding slowly before his expression hardened. "Then listen well, boy. What you see before you is merely a shape I've adopted to interact with your kind. But do not be mistaken, boy; beneath this appearance lies my true form—born from an age almost forgotten by this world."

  A strange chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean?"

  Asmodean took a slow step back, the cavern's shadows deepening as if reacting to his words. "I am not human, Emrys," he declared, his voice resonating with a weight I'd never heard before, a gravity that made the air itself grow heavy.

  "I never was. I am a Devinic monster." Asmodean proclaimed with no doubt in his eyes.

  The words hung in the air between us, heavy and absolute. My breath hitched, my mind racing to grasp what he had just said.

  "A... Devinic monster?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Asmodean nodded, his gaze never wavering. "Not just any Devinic, boy. I was their leader—their king." His voice softened slightly, carrying a hidden sorrow beneath its strength. "I might very well be the last of my kind. And when I’m gone, our legacy—everything we've stood for—may vanish into history."

  The weight of his revelation pressed down on me like a mountain. The memories, the visions, the sheer depth of sorrow I had felt through our connection—it all made sense now. He wasn’t just carrying his own burden. He was carrying the remains of an entire race.

  Before I could ask more, a deafening sound shattered the moment.

  A massive, thundering crack split through the cavern, reverberating through the stone as if the very ceiling by our dwelling had given way. The ground trembled beneath our feet, loose rocks tumbling from above as dust filled the air.

  I staggered, instinctively throwing an arm over my face. "What was that?!"

  Asmodean's crimson eyes darkened. "We're out of time. He's here."

  My heart hammered against my ribs as panic surged through me. "Who? Asmodean, what's happening?" I demanded, my voice shaking with desperation.

  "No time," he said urgently, rising slowly despite his exhaustion, determination flickering fiercely in his eyes. "You must go. Now."

  "No!" I shouted, panic clawing up my throat. Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed his sleeve, holding on desperately. "What about you? I can't just leave you here!"

  He turned slowly, a heavy sorrow weighing down his gaze. For a brief moment, Asmodean looked vulnerable, almost fragile. "I'm sorry for the pain," he murmured softly.

  Before I could react, Asmodean's hand shot out, pressing firmly against my forehead.

  A sudden, searing pain erupted behind my left eye, intense and overwhelming. A rune-like symbol appeared briefly in my black eye, glowing red hot before fading quickly back into blackness, nearly invisible.

  I screamed in agony, falling to my knees as the sensation burned through me, carving itself deep into my very being. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately clawed at my eye. "Why? Why are you doing this?!" I cried out, my voice raw with pain.

  Asmodean’s voice was gentle yet unwavering, filled with sorrow and finality. "There will come a time when all will be revealed to you, Emrys. But now is not that time. Forgive me for the pain, and trust that this must be done."

  Before I could recover, before I could even process what was happening, a searing presence erupted into the cavern, radiating from the direction of the tunnel we came out of, seeping through the darkness with a suffocating force.

  It wasn't just any presence—it was raw, unfiltered bloodlust, darker and heavier than anything I'd felt before. Worse even than the first overwhelming wave that struck me when I initially met Asmodean.

  My body froze in sheer terror, every muscle locking painfully. I barely managed to lift my head, forcing my one eye open, struggling against the paralyzing fear. My voice trembled, barely audible. "A-Asmodean… who is that?"

  Asmodean's hand gently but firmly lifted my head, forcing me to look up at him. Tears blurred my vision, but through them, I saw his face clearly—wearing a massive, reassuring smile. "It's time for you to go now, Emrys," he said calmly, his voice unwavering despite the chaos.

  "No…" I tried to protest, my voice choked by the tears and fear gripping my chest.

  But before I could say anything more, Asmodean reached into his core and withdrew an abyssal spherical orb, pulsating gently with a powerful aura of mana.

  “Please look after this with your life,” placing it in my hands.

  My breath hitched, eyes widening in shock. "Is this… your Spirit manaheart?"

  Before Asmodean could answer, another wave of overwhelming force surged violently from the tunnel. The sheer weight and potency of the bloodlust crashed into me like a physical blow, leaving me frozen and breathless.

  A moment of chilling silence hung thick in the air before it was shattered by a laugh—a twisted, manic cackle echoing through the shadows.

  The voice was jagged, unhinged, each syllable dripping with a sinister delight. "You old bastard," it sneered through the darkness, a tone eerily playful yet filled with menace. "Look where you've been hiding."

  Asmodean swiftly lifted me to my feet, urgency burning fiercely in his gaze. "It's time, boy. But first… feast your eyes, and see me as I truly am—for your first and final time."

  He stepped back—and the world seemed to recoil.

  A towering silhouette rose before me, humanoid only in the loosest sense. His form swelled and reshaped, each movement rippling through layers of obsidian-black scales that clung to his body like living armor. Beneath the cracks between those scales, crimson light pulsed—illuminating the jagged lines that shaped his chest and abdomen.

  Two massive pairs of wings unfurled behind him—four in total. Their vast membranes bore countless scars, tears etched into them like records of wars fought long before history had learned how to remember. As they spread wide, they swallowed the cavern’s light, casting a shadow so immense it felt as though the air itself bowed beneath their weight.

  His arms thickened, layered in scale and muscle, ending in clawed hands made to rend flesh and stone alike. His legs bent into a bestial structure, powerful and precise, taloned feet cracking the stone beneath him with each subtle shift. Behind him, a long armored tail dragged across the cavern floor, snapping once with a low rumble that vibrated through my bones.

  From his skull rose a wicked crown of horns, curling upward in sharp, regal arcs.

  Something about his face unsettled me deeply. Where his mouth and nose should have been, there was nothing—only a smooth, clean slate, as if a mask of living armor had sealed over his features entirely. No expression. No breath. And yet… above it all were his eyes.

  Six abyssal-red eyes burned within his face, arranged in two vertical rows of three. They glowed like dying stars, ancient and calculating, their gaze piercing straight through me. The top and bottom pairs pulsed with an eerie, primeval light, while the middle two remained the same deep crimson I knew so well.

  For a moment, I could do nothing but stare. My breath hitched, my heart hammering against my ribs as my mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing.

  My body felt frozen, rooted to the stone beneath my feet, yet there was no despair clawing at my chest—no instinctive urge to flee or scream.

  Instead, awe settled over me like a heavy cloak, suffocating and reverent all at once.

  I should have been terrified. Any sane person would have been. But as I stood there, staring at that impossible form, all I felt was a quiet, breathless wonder.

  "Asmodean...?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

  The armor-like mask receded subtly, folding back along his jaw and cheekbones as if the living plating itself chose to yield.

  From beneath it, his mouth and nose emerged—still framed by those six abyssal eyes—and a small, amused smirk curled across his monstrous lips. "I'm sorry if I frighten you, Emrys."

  Despite the overwhelming sight before me, my lips trembled before curling into a smirk of my own. Tears blurred my vision, yet a snicker escaped through my sobs as I managed a shaky reply, "You were always ugly, old man—it's okay."

  Asmodean laughed—a deep, resonating sound that shook the very walls around us. But there was something final in it, something that made my chest tighten.

  "It’s time for you to go now, boy."

  Just as I took a step toward him, desperate to say a final goodbye, Asmodean moved.

  The armor-like slate snapped back over his face in an instant, sealing away the faint humanity he had just shown. His body twisted with impossible speed, reacting on pure instinct.

  A spear-like construct of green light tore through the cavern toward us—but Asmodean caught it mid-flight, his clawed hand closing around the condensed mana with a thunderous crack.

  Without hesitation, he hurled it back toward the tunnel from where it came, the force behind the throw ripping the air apart.

  I stared, stunned. I hadn’t even registered the attack before he’d already countered it. So fast…

  This was his true strength. The gulf between us was immeasurable.

  And yet—

  My breath caught as I noticed dark liquid dripping from Asmodean's fingers. Black blood slid down his scaled hand, sizzling faintly where it hit the stone. The attack had hurt him.

  Asmodean glanced at his hand, then looked back at me. His voice was firm, urgent. "Boy. There is no time left. It’s getting dangerous."

  "Wait—!" I cried out, stepping toward him. "Please… come with me!"

  He turned away from the tunnel just long enough to face me again. The facial plating receded once more, folding back as if granting me a final kindness. He smiled—warm, genuine, and heartbreakingly human.

  "I would have loved to," he said softly. "But we both knew the outcome the moment you came here."

  Before I could respond, the air screamed.

  Three more spear-like streaks of green light erupted from the darkness—faster, sharper, more precise. Asmodean caught the first two effortlessly, one in each hand.

  The third struck true—piercing straight through him with brutal precision.

  A chilling laughter followed the attack, manic and twisted, echoing ominously from the darkness behind it.

  I screamed, instinctively lunging forward, desperate to reach Asmodean, to do anything to save him.

  Asmodean staggered, black blood spilling from the wound as he spat a mouthful onto the cavern floor. Yet, despite the grave injury, he smiled down at me, his monstrous visage filled with an oddly comforting serenity.

  "No, boy," he commanded firmly. "It's your... time to go. Thank you... for... everything."

  With a final surge of strength, he unleashed a powerful black force, propelling me backwards, directly toward the rift.

  "No! Asmodean—!!" I cried out, tears streaming freely down my face as his words echoed powerfully in my mind, etched deeply into my soul.

  Just before the rift swallowed me whole, his voice resonated clearly in my thoughts, one final connection, carrying a promise and plea. You have given me hope, Emrys. Live a good life and look after them!

  As the force of Asmodean's push threw me back toward the rift, my vision blurred, yet I fought desperately for one last look.

  Through tear-filled eyes, I saw a blurred figure emerging from the darkness of the tunnel's entrance, its form indistinct but undeniably menacing.

  The only clarity came from its piercing emerald eyes, glowing with a sinister, twisted delight. The chilling, manic laughter filled the cavern once more, ringing in my ears as the rift consumed me.

  The sensation of falling through the rift was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—cold yet burning, weightless yet crushing.

  My mind spun with disbelief, grief, and confusion.

  Asmodean's last words echoed relentlessly in my thoughts, a plea and a command intertwined.

  I closed my eyes, the void pulling me deeper. I promise, Asmodean, I echoed back into the darkness. I will live a life you can be proud of.