Reincarnated as a Duck: A beast progression litrpg isekai-Chapter 263 - 254: Resonance Realm - Part 2

So, what should Murai feel, do, or feel in this harm that sizzled inside of him? Feeling it reminded him of many memories, pains, and problems. He was never fine with compromises, so what was a Light and Brightness, or sort of warmth that had never been part of his lives?

An absolutely blundering mistake and violation of preposterous proportions was happening at this very moment, away from every living thing and the universe itself.

Murai's soul blinked, and then he watched as more strands charged at him, sizzling away into dust as parts of his Dread followed suit. He struggled to move, feeling as if the cage moved and the charging strands lessened in numbers due to their loss.

There wasn't a wall. He wasn't stranded in the middle of Nowhere.

It was a tower with a simple pool. There was even a ceiling that was either the top or bottom of the sea, while those strands were just waves and breaths of accumulated energy for who knows how many chaos cycles or Epochs.

The light had no bounds, or so many elders and intellectuals said, yet something was dominating over this place. It was overlooking it from the top, making this tower a very important thing, or just the start of a Realm that Murai had been anticipating, fearing, or wondering about for the past few hours.

Murai heard rumors about various unexplored Realms since they were historically crucial to the advancements of many civilizations, worlds, and cultures. Most of them weren't really open and inviting, and one couldn't walk in and see everything like a new owner. There was a world to these Realms that felt very touching and boundless.

Now, it was before Murai, and he had to learn how to swim first before thinking of anything else.

Murai grinned, struggled, and tried to crash the bounding strands that invaded him from this cage. Strands snapped, collided, sizzled, and moved together just to oppose him again. This cycled hundreds of times, making Murai fume in anger, and his darkness winced. Then, the white of his soul opposed it until it sparkled, and all lights exposed something deep.

Like a small dark explosion, Murai huffed and wheezed as he was free once more, surrounded by the void of space without anything in it.

His parts felt invaded, and his Will was wavering when the dust settled in him once again. Gasping the mist, Murai growled and twisted in dark waves of his current soul, cracking the strands that invaded him again as if they were possessed.

Then, he changed out of sheer spite or by the effect of the growing Brightness inside of him. His body warped, dark wings made of many little dark lines grew upward, and small legs moved below.

Then, there was his head that carried nice, angled feather lines, appearing lofty, proper, and with two white eyes glaring and opposing everything.

A duck appeared once again in its full glory, looking sorry, scary, and kind of pissed by Murai's dreadful appearance. The dust settled as well, no longer escaping but eaten and consumed.

Dark but with white, there was a strange brightness inside. Dust coalesced around Murai, appearing like a halo invading from outside, trying to choke him, yet it couldn't do this justice, so it revolved around him.

"What the hell is happening? I don't know anymore, but as if I will let anything apart!" Murai began his fight, and he wasn't sure if it was right or wrong. Well, he was sure about one thing: he didn't like to make things easy for others, which included his sorry ass.

For once more, all the surrounding strands came at him as if they met a worthy opponent, overseen by a massive tower that was wide like a planet, going up and down to no end in particular.

Then, a storm formed, beginning to flock, turn, and change the strands. Hurricanes followed, and be it darker strands or those from below, Murai opposed them all!

Many flooded at him, obscuring his vision, yet that tower was there without any doubt. Coming closer was nothing simple, but what could be ever so simple to him? Magic might be, but this was no magic.

Wars had been fought for no apparent reason, striking the lower parts of this realm. Many strands crashed against Murai like arrows, whips, weird swords, or tails. Some fled and cracked the moment he swung his wings, or a glinting white and black beak around in annoyance. He was no longer obscured by a lack of chances or his Dread.

He was back as a duck, so he might as well use it to his advantage and fight as one hella of an Eldritch Duck. It sounded laughable when he thought about it, which was fine. He didn't think much at all.

It was surprisingly better and more useful than he would ever have thought or assumed. So much for his sorry Eldritch appearance. It was a shame.

Murai danced around without guilt, unleashing wing smacks against anything, fleeting when necessary, and trying to go toward the end of the tower as he fought. With a proper body, it was far quicker and easier than being a blob of nothing but strange ridicule and derision.

He had a goal that came from this shifting war. The flow was substantial, and the storm did have its start. He realized there were two ceilings, yet he wasn't sure which was up or down—or any escape at all.

There was no real sense of gravity since any direction could become up or down. If anything made sense to him, then those were his memories, while foreboding flashes in Reality originated from this Realm!

He knew what to follow, yet this place was against it, or so he thought.

"You sought me out. You dug your own grave with it!" Murai shouted at the surrounding war, taking no piercing pain, sizzle, or crashes in mind. "Don't feel sorry for anything, whatever Resonance Realm you are!"

[Unfilial!] A voice crashed the space, and his voice, halting Murai and all strands attacking him. It was coming from somewhere. Most likely the tower, or it was everywhere, or on either of the ceilings.

Following this voice, a ringing flash of pain slammed into Murai's mind, feeling as if he was hit with a hammer. His wings, beak, and feet wavered and cracked, making a mess out of his sloppy body that was momentarily quite impressive. The halo was nowhere to be seen, as it disintegrated in this shock.

"Weak..." He mumbled, clutching his beak, flashing his eyes, and getting his wings under control. Not the legs, though. They were kind of useless for this Eldrich anyway. He regained control, making his strands of feathers deeper, longer, and more impressive. Now, a small amount of Brightness was there as well, trying to reach out to others.

[Unfilial!] the voice repeated, crashing onto his mind again and halting his efforts to regain his warring body.

This time, many strands scrambled out of the way, dissipating to dust, which was then reabsorbed by strands that survived. They grew bolder, faster, and brighter, changing to new hues or forms that were stronger than before. Elements and colors clustered in new hues, appearing more precious and sharper.

There was a raging storm to them, ranging from twisting strands, massive waves like hands, currents looking like snakes, weapons, or numerous lines like arrows.

Murai trembled and shook his head, focusing his mind on what mattered. The guidance was a fraud. The picture was fake. His body was his answer, while his soul was his way.

The tower was before him, looking like a galaxy that stretched over the Endless Sky with countless stars, structures, and layers.

The stars in this tower were swirling masses of peculiar strands, some the size of mountains, looking like spirals or eyes, while others were tiny, yet dense enough to appear like grains of sand.

With the sea of strands getting tense and smaller in numbers due to strengthening, Murai was able to see where to go. The war was restarting, so he should overcome it and move towards the visions he had seen, but not out of trust. That wasn't enough. He will put effort into this war first and foremost, crash and see what he can do, learn, and then do even better than before.

"Now, we are talking," Murai said, and was able to move again.

He glanced up, figuring the top was way too far away, but he was willing to try any chances when war came knocking. How many strands were there? Millions? Billions? It was just a number.

He opposed them many times.

There was no ground, and his sense of direction had no merits besides a hunch. If he turned upside down, the up would become down, so he couldn't trust anything. The tower was all about this place, or was it also the ground? Something in him urged him to get there and see it for himself. This adventure wouldn't hurt him, so the war was his answer.

A sense of direction was mere perspective. If he shifted his body sideways, he saw no tower but a straight road ahead, which was enough for him. He went towards one end, uncertain if he would reach the end or the beginning.

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It would be laughable if it were the latter, yet the enemies were all over the place, trying to flood him, so he tried to look for any disparity that would crash any obscurities. The best way was by force.

His mind felt sharp, so he pushed into the warring strands, fighting and smacking and drowning in dust and brittleness of metallic strands or elemental shards. Feeling left his body, as his mind cleared, got over his Dread, and became clearer and more honest than usual.

Yet these strands grew more powerful the more he crushed them, returning with challenges and growing under every crack. His wings and beak left many in pieces and suffering, and so did he, but he wasn't breaking apart like them. No. He was regenerating, and letting him involuntarily absorb more dust and light or let other strands eat their fill.

It was a battle of the jungle, where the matter of eating the weak wasn't fine for anything. He wasn't sure what fueled him or how he didn't want to lose in any capacity.

At least in Murai's mind, he became the older one, or the eldest. He shattered and returned to his ways, obliterating the opposition just because he felt like it. That went on for hours.

Then days...

The actual situation was far from being an insensible war.

The voice didn't return, though those very potent strands did more than once or thrice, eating the ones he crashed, which fueled the entire war into a frenzy without any end.

Waves of strands sometimes enveloped him, trying to squish him, but no matter what, the darkness of his lives prevailed, extinguishing the inevitable stops, or... was it even all that bad?

He used his newly found proficiency over his Dread, growing longer or better-shaped wings to go quicker to where he wanted to be, or smack or cut anything apart. So what if it wasn't all black anymore? He found it cool.

His beak was less of a tool, yet anything that would come closer would taste his gnawing, thrusting, or tearing.

Murai hadn't realized it, but perhaps these strands wanted to help him, offer and gift the comprehension with a tough love. He was seeking them in his own way by trashing this gift, or he didn't think he was worth it.

It was changing anyway, and many of these strands couldn't chase him forever. He wasn't willing to compromise in his current state of mind. He dared to take them on, and he planned to go all the way to the end.

He bashed what was close, doing it with simple unwillingness, stubbornness, and feelings of loss.

He recovered countless times, growing wings, beaks, and heads, or healing dark holes in himself. Sizzling and leaving the space in shambles, he scrutinized nothing but himself. Every loss would force him away from the tower or its road.

His body was able to change through his Will, turning how this Resonance sought him out. It was respectful and right, so he started to play by these rules, which turned him into a cold, bloody killer of anything bright and right. He got that fuel. He got his insanity.

And he hated losing. If he didn't like something, he didn't like it to the bitter end.

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Murai fought his way to the top, flying like a rocket until he saw the end in sight.

The road was ending. The tower was no more, or it continued beyond the surface of... water?

Light, Brightness, and many sources or layers of such elements bent, forcing strands to weaken in loss and unsnarling that they couldn't do this anymore. Murai was too absorbed in his head and dark, sizzling matter, no matter how far the dust or light drove in.

No matter how, his bottomless pit equalled his stubbornness. He found his success, which changed the sea to a single colorful brightness after he pierced the war against billions of strands.

What he observed seemed like a giant sun that wasn't right in color, though it sure was blinding and looking like one giant droplet, or like yet another end of a well. Maybe a mirror? Ocean? Lake?

Murai barely registered new types of strands at the front, guarding the entrance. He couldn't change this quickly like this space. He still felt like a single soldier charging at a sea of generals.

Behind and below him, he ignored the change and charge, which was leaving dust and bits of his darkness and foreign light behind. It appeared as if something was flying out of him, assembling sort of tails and veils, or bloody droplets.

Before the ceiling, Murai noted his final opposition, which was less about numbers than he thought. Rain of strands colored like diamond blades shot at Murai like arrows, but he did not retreat. He charged at them, even if there were millions of them, aiming at a single insane Eldrich duck.

The scale was far too wide to view, let alone dodge. Murai seized them anyway, feeling their piercing sensation like arrows and spears that went through him, chopping him off, going through him, and leaving dust or sizzling his darkness. Too much of it leaked, yet far too much of it was also born anew, or twisted, healed, restored, and uncovered from within.

Murai moved his wings, angling them like two massive shields while his head with its beak glared forward. Ignoring the harm or cries he uttered, or the hues of his Will that were changing, he reached the diamond strands, clashed against them, and found his new muse.

Insanity restarted, and this time, it was a brawl of senseless proportions, like a silly goose battling against giants. Murai wasn't losing, by the way. He couldn't stop himself even if he dared to do that.

He was dancing, leaving patches of burning or smooth darkness behind, which kept eating the dust or strands, or simply disappearing away. It flowed behind him like clothes or memories of the past days, looking like the path that he chose.

No strands that he cracked followed him in their anger, shifting to other brothers or sisters. They lost and yielded. Every enemy mattered, and Murai wasn't even aware of numbers or their colorations, shapes, or overlapping noises in his trials. There was no real front. No back. He stormed at them until they surrounded him, yet he wasn't the one who felt that way.

There was more to follow every time he crashed against shooting arrows, tails, or whips, while every diamond strand was able to use lower strands, making spells out of them, defenses, or oddly shaped mastery of their unique attacks.

They were sturdy, so Murai either had to let them use their filling, crack them one bit at a time, or he had to crack them when it hurt. Which was very hard if they were made of millions of strands, as he assumed once, and not even twice.

He was too busy gnawing at them, testing his attacks, and huffing as he tore them apart, turning into an utter beast that didn't care for consuming. Far too many of them create a never-ending loop of anxiety and battle, fueling what Murai considered critical at this moment.

He couldn't crash them all with his beak or slaps of his wings, so he played the old-school late game. After what felt like days of struggle, he flew ahead into what felt like a dozen meters of utter peace and sky, reaching for the blinding ocean. The tower itself went into it, disappearing into what was beyond. It was either a top, or this was just another joke.

Either way, many spears and arrows or strands dangled all over him or inside, sizzling away or becoming one with him. He was full of holes because of them, looking like a wounded soldier who was far out of his mind to care for little wounds.

Murai panted, feeling like a warrior who no longer held the strength to move or proceed forward. Behind him, the depth was clean, apart from what he lost or made of it.

"Damned.. sickening bastards. I swear I will come back and dance with you again,"

[Unfilial...] the voice from long ago whispered, rather than shouted, coming from above.

Murai didn't shout. Nothing did. There was no strand left before him.

Instead, he chuckled and thought of something fitting. "Who is unfilial!?" He bellowed, spreading his wings and shouting, wavering the ocean above him, and creating small waves tarnish its surface. His cheer echoed, making his stand clear, yet nothing terrible happened.

At the center, right above him, the waves resembled a droplet falling, and the ceiling trembled as a single hole spread above him.

It sucked him in, grasping what was in the proximity of the tower, which was nothing but a single mash of a duck and wretched strands in his wounds.

Murai cried out, unsure if this was his end, or if another punishment was due after he dealt with little soldiers. Now, should he be worthy of an audience, or see the real deal?!

Expectations and his memories no longer mattered.

He never saw this sort of end in any kind of Hidden Realm, but he surely knew that many held their different causes, matters, points, and duties. He trashed with this one, so he might get tossed somewhere else where he could get hurt once more. The roaring didn't last long.

He saw something that few ever did.

He knew it could speak, gift treasures and instructions to time lost in age, so even the masterminds and Entities of the universe could find guidance in these ethereal realms.

Murai disappeared in a mere moment, but only for a flesh that was deep, sudden, and wasting not much time.

He flew for a mere instant above the ceiling, right before a familiar sense of gravity pulled him down. With a thud, he dropped above the ocean, feeling like a watered dog who swam across the sea and back.

Wheezing, he felt like shit with all the spears inside of him, whizzing and sinking inside after the ocean lost its value, rules, and pride. It was helpful in some way since it felt like everything was floating, and fighting was nearly endless in possibilities.

So, having a proper gravity and ground below him never felt weirder.

Eyes open, Murai shuddered in his seat and looked around without a flinch of shame. He triumphed and bested those fuckers!

The tower was before him, looking... intense, or... weird. Then, it became far too intense after further looks. It continued up without an end in sight, spreading countless strands of other towers all across the true face of this Realm, looking like branches without any ends. He opened the door and finally observed what was bright.

The surroundings were different from what he had expected. They were devoid of any ocean. Instead, it was like a lovely paradise, filled with countless matters that his eyes took for a shocking bizarre discovery and dazzling light.

It looked like a reality mixed with the ways of how most Hidden Realms looked like. Which meant not real, varied in colors, aura, feelings, and very distinct patterns.

There were birds made of bright strand patterns and waves, flying above, looking like flies, or dragons, or resembling weird animals. There were even numerous kinds of trees of light, or they were pillars or parts of the tower.

It was hard to say what he was watching further into this Realm. Odd fauna of many colors on the ground, resembling resorts with islands and ponds or lakes, grew where it could. Right where he landed.

It was no ocean. It was a mere pond.

Murai wasn't sure where in the world he ended up, but his eyes weren't blinded by the light or pictures of any paradise. He forfeited his battle-worn mind. Now, it wasn't the time to trash with this sort of place.

He came from a simple pond, no larger than fifty ducks in diameter, and landed on the ground surrounding it. No tower was in it, so he felt like an idiot because he was surrounded by land and thousands of other golden ponds of water.

Far away on the horizon, there was that gigantic tower, overlooking the land of Light and Brightness. Further away from him, there were even sets of lakes, mountains, and large or small seas further away, assembling an endless promenade for countless matters of this Realm.

Called Resonance Realm of Light and Brightness, it was all over his eyes, looking ancient, true, and right to an extent, yet not like he had deduced. The true sight might be different since entrances can vary, his eyes were lacking, and he wasn't fine with this lot.

He just breached the surface and couldn't even stand or move. He was too tired, wounded, and already sizzling.

"Oh, a visitor? At this moon hour?" A voice aside from him spoke, appearing young, dubious, and coming closer, sounding like a young boy. "How suspicious and odd! Hey, this is not going to be delightful."

Murai winced his head, looking at the weird human-shaped light figure, looking distinctly like a figurine, but small, detailed in countless lines, yet speaking and living like a person. Straight lines constructed a body, making it tight, shaped, and weird. It had no fingers, ears, or special human features like eyes, mouth, or ears, but it moved exactly like humans.

It looked like the most redundant depiction of a human characterization drawn, created, and living through simple sequences. Sure, it had straight curves made of countless little lines, yet it looked like a baby drew something resembling parents.

"Took me long enough, huh?" Murai reckoned and believed with his eyes. He hadn't heard of these factors before, but it was better than nothing to realize what he was watching might be his gift. He wasn't blind, which was good.

"Certainly, though," the figure estimated what to tell and seemed curious about what was before it. Then, a foreboding fear took its seed, making it shudder, skip shades of light, and its voice grew a pitch higher.

"It seems you are... uncertain where and what you want to be, but this isn't a place for this sort of... place. Who might you be... to go from these lakes, I mean? For this to happen, are you a nightmare? " it asked, stepping back and pointing at him with a thud for an arm.

"Is this how you greet a resonance visitor, Aisling?" a girly voice called out next, revealing another smooth figure that came from another direction before bumping into Aisling, who was rather frightened by watching and feeling what was below him, collapsed and wounded.

This new figure had many strands near its head, flowing over it like ornamented hair. Each hair was long, thick, and thin, wincing in no wind, and bright cascades of rings were within them, looking pretty to the eyes. If one regarded their faceless faces, Murai was at least glad there was a way to differentiate them.

This one, female, most likely, walked to Murai, crouching and pinching the spears in his body as if they were something funny and right.

"It went through a moon war, Aisling. Such visitors are worth a ceremony, so look at it! It's bleeding all over its place! We should hurry and let it heal. What sort of surveillance are we if we can't even greet guests??"

Aisling turned, crossing his hands over his chest. "You are too lax, Lining. This thing is looking moon! Enemy, that is. It isn't bleeding by the way. It's leaking!"

"That's the same thing!" Lining argued, feeling proud of this thought. "You don't have to argue about that with me. You haven't even been to the war in a whole moon."

"No, it is not the same thing. And shut your light! I am still bright!"

"Listen, Aisling, I won't argue what is the definition of souls and flash, leaking or bleeding or threading. Flesh, I mean, is the privilege of visitors. This one is leaking and bleeding and dreaming and kidding and sizzling and... you get it. Means we have to help it, you see. Help us all!"

Aisling felt like hurting himself when he watched Murai on the ground, slowly sizzling and turning the grand black around him. That was ominous and something that Lining did not care about more than rumors of nightmares and stories about moons.

Lining chuckled, finding Murai's reaction and angry face rather funny.

"Look, Aisling, this one is so dark. How fun! It's like the moon some lights dreams about."

"You mean nightmares?" Aisling argued. "I dunno, Lining. I think we should let this one die off. Let it return, kick it aside. It seems more dangerous than usual. It's coming too..."

"Oh, no way. That would be such a shame because we don't see weird ones visiting this place very often. Isn't this one-of-a-kind visitor then? You should take it to your square head of yours. You won't meet it again otherwise. It is called luck, you see, and we got lucky in this... part of the realm? I mean, we are fairly close to the Sacred Tower, so this one is... moon. Oh, moon! What is this visitor? Did it go up from there?!"

"Are you finally listening?" Aisling said, nodding in gladness, but it was too early for that.

"Holy Uncle! This is great! Once in a light kind of moment. "Lining said loftily, reminding him what someone taught her, or what she learned and believed herself. She got closer to Murai with all the glowing interest she could muster and loved everything about this situation.

Aisling didn't follow this sentiment. Grounded and all, the concept this visitor aimed for wasn't one of gifts or peace. It was bloody moon, and it was looking at him with an ominous light that he had never seen before.