Hellbound: Rebirth Of The Strongest Slayer.-Chapter 41: Foolish Mortals

Chapter 41

The emperor and the Essos of Hwanna were not the only ones thinking deeply about the origin of the Crimson Night.

The phenomenon itself had already ended, but the aftermath refused to fade.

To the common folk, it did not matter whether the Crimson Night was caused by something... or someone. They only cared that the sky bled, that the world trembled, and that something unseen had brushed past their lives.

But for the powerful, for those who stood at the peak of the world, the Crimson Night struck fear straight into their hearts.

Because they understood.

Somewhere far from the heart continent, beyond the mapped lands, lay a massive desolate island. Dark patches of dead forests covered its surface, jagged white rocks piercing through blackened soil like broken bones. At first glance, it looked like a battlefield that had swallowed countless wars.

But that was wrong.

This place was sacred.

And cursed.

It was a prison.

The entire island trembled as the ocean around it rose and fell violently, waves crashing as if trying to flee. The ground quaked, rocks shattered, and even the sky seemed to split apart for a brief moment as a terrifying aura surged upward.

An aura powerful enough to overwhelm most beings in existence.

And then, just as suddenly, it was forced back down.

Deep underground, beneath layers of ancient seals, twenty men dressed in white robes with golden linings were violently slammed against the chamber walls. Blood sprayed from their mouths. Their breathing turned ragged. Bones cracked again and again under the invisible pressure.

Ethereal chains were attached to the center of their foreheads, each chain overflowing with a dreadful aura that could make an entire continent tremble. Every single one of these men wielded enough power to topple a great kingdom.

Yet now, they were reduced to broken bodies on the stone floor.

All because a certain being had moved one finger.

A blinding white energy suddenly enveloped the nineteen men. Crushed organs repaired themselves. Shattered skulls mended. Broken bones snapped back into place. In mere minutes, their bodies were restored.

This healing was power of one of their own.

They did not waste time.

All twenty men soared upward to the top of the massive chamber, channeling power into the cannons embedded in their forearms. As they landed on their platforms, the sigils beneath their feet lit up one by one.

Twenty sigils.

Twenty pillars of light.

When the final sigil ignited, a massive white light exploded and gathered at the center of the chamber.

Revealed within it was a figure.

Bound.

Dozens of ancient chains wrapped tightly around his body. Countless pikes pierced through his flesh, nailing him in place. A colossal sealing formation glowed beneath him, powered by the combined strength of the twenty experts.

The figure stopped struggling.

His resistance vanished.

Long hair fell forward, covering his face.

"Phew..."

Relief leaked from the mouth of one robed man.

"We managed to stop a massive catastrophe."

He was right.

The being they were ordered to keep imprisoned was none other than Khaorath.

The most powerful existence ever seen or even conceived across the entire realm.

It was said that the strongest experts of the past had sacrificed their lives just to chain him here. Not because they were merciful.

But because killing him was impossible.

That alone spoke volumes about the level of power this being wielded.

If Khaorath were to break free from this prison, where he had been held for tens of thousands upon tens of thousands of years, the world would plunge into absolute chaos.

Or worse.

Everything would end.

The fear in the robed man’s voice was not cowardice. It was understanding. Some claimed the legends surrounding Khaorath were exaggerated.

But moments ago, that illusion was shattered.

Just the movement of a single finger had nearly killed all twenty of them.

One finger.

If even one of the thousands of sealing chains around his body were to snap...

No.

They did not want to think about it.

They truly did not.

"What do you think brought about this change?"

The man’s voice was deadly serious, cutting through the heavy silence.

"After all, Khaorath has been sealed here for tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of years. At least according to legend. He has never moved even an inch from that spot because he simply could not. The sealing spell placed upon him was absolute."

His fists clenched.

"One must understand. Each of us, despite being the newer generation tasked with watching over the seal, has guarded this place for more than a thousand years. This is the first time he has ever moved."

He swallowed.

"Even if it was just a finger."

That single movement had nearly ended all their lives.

"Why are you asking such an obvious question?"

Another voice cut in. A woman with dark ebony hair stepped forward, her gaze sharp.

"That is not the question," she said, her tone strained. "We all know it has something to do with the Crimson Night from minutes ago."

She frowned deeply.

"This place was meant to be completely cut off from external qi and mana. Only primal energy is allowed to exist here. And yet, all formations and arrays were bypassed. This prison was flooded with foreign energies just moments ago."

The others nodded in grim agreement.

They had all felt it.

A massive anomaly. An impossible overflow of qi and mana in a place where such things should never exist.

"So what do you think caused it?" another asked, voice heavy.

"We must prevent it from ever happening again."

As much as a part of him felt a twisted curiosity about just how terrifying Khaorath’s full power truly was, the memory of nearly dying from a mere flick of his wrist sent chills down his spine.

"Let me divine the cause of the phenomenon."

One of the women stepped forward, her eyes already beginning to glow as she searched for the origin of the Crimson Night.

"Wait."

One of the figures raised his hand, unease creeping into his voice. A bad premonition clawed at his instincts.

But he was too late.

The diviner suddenly froze, her body going stiff like stone. She trembled violently, as if her very existence was being shaken apart.

She turned toward her allies, hand stretched out desperately, as though reaching for salvation.

"Help..."

That was the only word she managed to say.

Then something horrifying happened.

The white glow in her eyes slowly turned into a hellish red. Her body began to burn from the inside out. She started turning to ash right before their eyes.

They could only watch.

Shock.

Horror.

"H-hel..."

Her form completely withered away, the ashes dispersing as if she had never existed at all.

"What... what just happened?"

One of them whispered, his voice barely audible, crushed by fear.

No one answered.

They looked at one another, searching for reassurance that did not exist. Then they turned back to the spot where the woman had once stood.

The platform was still there.

But the sigil beneath her feet had vanished.

At the same time, unnoticed by them, the massive sealing formation beneath Khaorath dimmed ever so slightly.

The remaining nineteen no longer paid attention to the seal.

Because each of them was feeling something they had not felt in an extremely long time.

Something foreign.

Something absolute.

They were feeling true dread.

If one of them, one of the strongest human beings in existence, could be wiped out simply by glimpsing the truth behind the origin of the Crimson Night...

Then whatever brought about that phenomenon...

Whatever stood behind the Crimson night be on the same threat level as Khaorath himself.

If not far greater.

One of the men turned to the others, his voice thin and trembling with tension.

"Contact the Guardians," he said urgently. "They need to know this."

Meanwhile, the diviner among their ranks was not the only one who lost her life attempting to uncover the origin of the Crimson Night.

All across the mortal realm, tens, hundreds, thousands, and even more than that, oracles, diviners, seers, and prophets tried to peer into its source.

Every single one of them met the same end.

Most had their souls erased outright, wiped from existence as if they had never been born. Others suffered something far worse. Agonizing torment that felt like burning without flames, as though their souls were dragged through hell itself.

Many could not endure it.

They chose to end their own lives just to escape the pain.

In the end, the result was the same.

Death.

Everywhere.

Meanwhile, overlooking the tiny mortal realm, an entity clad entirely in black observed in silence. Its face was filled with nothingness. Only devilish white eyes and sharp teeth were visible.

This was none other than an avatar of Hell itself.

It surveyed the absurdly small mortal world, an amused smile curling at its lips.

The being shook its head slowly, disappointment and amusement mixing together.

"Humans really are morons," it muttered. "Especially those of the mortal realm. The dumbest of them all."

Trying to glimpse its own secret was no different from begging for death.

Not even celestials or gods would dare to divine Hell without suffering unbearable consequences.

And yet these foolish humans did exactly that.

More and more souls were welcomed into its domain, crimson eyes flashing as it watched them arrive. It did not truly care about these humans.

Instead, its gaze locked onto one specific soul.

A baby.

Rayden.

Strapped to his mother’s back as she traveled, desperately searching for a new place to settle down.

"Vastro might be weak right now," the avatar murmured, eyes narrowing, "but if my instincts are right, that won’t last long."

A slow, cruel smile spread across its face as it watched the sleeping child.

"I really want to see how this plays out."

To be continued...