Chapter 46: Pure Soul

"Is there no way for me to help you?" The apocryphally naive adolescent benignly queried, his words romantically instinctual, for his mind brewed not upon sentiments of heroic valorous grandeur but forlorn despondent, wretchedness. 'After all, I bear no hope of return. I can't escape until I die or the boss is killed. Unless…'

"Can't I become your apostle?!" Eros winsomely stammered, nascent to the myriad motions that effloresced atop the chained gorgon's infernally inauspicious face. Cavernous cataracts appeared arciform, tensed into an absentminded grin, inundating the ensanguined land afore her with a cataclysmic deluge of blood.

{+5% Affection (Medusa)}

"Rid you of your forced flesh. Bind your soul upon my body. Surely that would enable your escape, and if not yours, then your sisters." Eros desirously exclaimed, his proclamation possessing countenance of uncelebrated, unascertained, esoteric backing, his drawl nought but the hopeless, benighted imbecilic dribble of a cretinous boy.

"Hahaha! What a paradoxical, dissentient boy you are!" The preeminent, midnight-purple monarch whimsically scoffed, "Not only do you proclaim such negligent bellow before I, the transcendent beast Medusa, executioner of multitudinous heroes, a being feared by all whom trespass upon my isle…but you state such incomprehensible idea. Have I not proclaimed the truth afore you, no man can house a god, let alone an apostle already bearing patronage." The serpentine behemoth disconsolate in her every utterance morosely hissed, her figure of antecedent placidity stirring, cretinous to imminent revelation of sacrosanct almighty eminence.

"As I said anteriorly, my fate is gnarled, perverted. I receive prospective assistance only for the omnipotent antagonist of my freedom to encroach. If you had been a girl bereft of hallowed aegis, perhaps it could have been diff-" The leviathan serpent mournfully lamented, her face nugatory of irises spying visage antecedently unseen, a sanctified numinous countenance reticent since the multitudinous origins of humanity.

Innately did the sky of crimson appear forbearing, clement afore the winsome adolescent, his portrait reverently, bloodcurdlingly picturesque, a mesmeric scene beheld by but a singular existence, the petrified countenance of Medusa.

For nugatory eyes peered behind a curtain of flesh.

It was merely intrigue.

An instinctual fascination.

A fruitless venture preeminently vain, so then why?

Why did the innocuous adolescent afore her bear such a unique, primordial aspect?

"Ha…HAHAHAHA! OH MY~! What an absurd existence you are! In my time of oblivion, you arrive, my kismet demise shattered by your mere presence. Perchance reality might not be immoderately torturous. Speak your name, boy. What is your epithet, the title of the singular existence bearing such ascendant vestige? The harbourer of a pure soul!" Medusa reverently screamed, her mere exclamation of jubilancy splitting the cardinal empyrean plane above, bathing the petrified adolescent with a seraphic temporal luminescence.

"My name's Eros, but what are you talking about? What do you mean by pure soul?" Eros deliriously stammered, his mind enraptured by notions of foreboding preternatural apprehension.

{+10% Affection (Medusa)}

"You are an implausible actuality, the first being to be born with such stigma since gods first creations. Untarnished, virginal to the malignant omnipotent energies of the world, nascent to the cycle of rebirth. You shouldn't exist. Your life should have been extinguished the moment you lay conceived, corrupted, vitiated, raped and slaughtered by the omniscient forces of the world. An apocryphal fantasy, even among paramount, transcendent gods. And yet…HAHAHA, here you are. You may not be a hero, but you can be my rescuer, for regardless of sex, heedless to the matriarchal lordship of the world, you may house gods, blessed with the potential to accommodate myriad beings." Medusa impassionately laughed, cretinous to the harrowing boy's inner ruinous turmoil.

'I-I shouldn't exist. From the moment of my conception, I should have been killed, defiled by the latent foreign energies. I was never a sanctified prodigal esper. My powers came from a skewed relationship with Psyche, one possible only because of my soul. I should feel distraught, I think…how should I feel…happy? Depressed…overcome by melancholy…ascendantly egotistical…I don't know? I don't know, I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!' The adolescent tempestuously spluttered, eyes of variegated pigmentation nugatory of their anterior consternation.

'...Ah…I don't care… So what if my existence heralds providence untold? For the moment, it will allow me to live, allow me to escape, grant me strength anteriorly unascertainable,' The boy apathetically drolled, his ears somniferously impregnated by the booming voice of the mountainous serpent.

"I will bless you with my strength, exalt sanction for your return. In recompense, I wish to forge an accord. You will be our apostle. We will be your strength, and you will show us the world outside this isle," Medusa superlatively hissed, "However, we cannot join upon your flesh. We must merge with your soul, find sanction in that which is temporal, though I suppose that's of no issue to you. After all, antecedent to us, you've been bound in such a way your entire life, imprisoned in a marriage you know not of," The serpent whimsically bellowed, her every utterance a fracturable calamity upon the wretched boy's mind.

"What do you mean marriage? How does one usually become an apostle?" Eros instinctually reposted, hair of variegated pink and primaeval brown sodden with an anterior shawl of reprieving, demonic carrion.

"I suppose I can acquiesce, for such an answer is the antithesis of taboo. Habitually a god blesses a girl's body, impregnating their flesh with their hallowed exaltation, permissive to the use of their fragmentary marred power, for such glorified anointment is without deficit for the deity, they grow in hegemony, gluttonous upon their apostle's progress, and when the apostle dies, they merely move, claiming a new vestige, until the epoch of their return sanguinely burgeons. However, in sparse cases, a god will fragment their already diminutive soul to bed that of their apostles, such notion nugatory of love, but innate selfishness, ravenous afore the inherent omniscient potential such unparalleled anomalous soul, pestiferously plaguing them throughout myriad lives, yet, such event is bereft of the titular title marriage, I merely proclaimed that afore you, Eros."

"For you are the singular male to experience such superlative transcendent occurrence, an augural genesis, your pure soul infected antecedently by blight of mesmeric enthralling pink, and now to be impregnated by the twin remnants of my sisters," Medusa blithely murmured, imprisoned hands of taloned bronze vainly tempestuous, wrathful against their abhorrent, torturous sentinels. With every motion, blood befell the world, tumultuously profaning anterior drapes of obsidian, debaucherous atop Eros's bedevilled body bereft of maroon blazer.

Lucid did they appear, crystalline, gossamery amidst the mass of cardinal crimson, twain souls petulantly refracting chroma of the ensanguined celestial empyrean, their visages aimless, desultory, erratic, yet cadaverously amaranthine, vagrant in their encroach, for without heed did such vaporous plumes bed the boy's petrified visage, suffusing with his every orifice, from pores of pestiferously plagued claret to eyes of heterochromatic birth, they vitiated, desecrated that which was anteriorly virginal without omnipotent consent, until nought remained but the unchanged form of the boy.

"Did I…am I their apostle?" Eros absentmindedly stammered, parchment of preeminent pellucidity unfurled listlessly before him.

{Name: Eros}

{Age: 17}

{Race: Human}

{Sex: Male}

{Title(s): Apostle of Eros (Psyche), Apostle of Stheno, Apostle of Euryale, Pure Soul,}

{Apostle of Eros (Psyche)}

{Rank: —-----}

{Tier: 2}

{Abilities: (Psyche)}

{Tier 1: Matchmaker}

{Tier 2: Anteros}

{Ability: Pyrokinesis}

{Origin: Fiamma Adeen}

{Ability: Enhancement}

{Origin: Gabriella Ebba}

{Abilites: (Asmodeus/ Sarah)}

{Tier 1: Successor of Tobias}

{Origin: Sarah Valentine ♥}

{Apostle of Stheno}

{Rank: God (Monster)}

{Tier:---}

{Abilities:----}

{Apostle of Euryale}

{Rank: God (Monster)}

{Tier:---}

{Abilities:---}

'I'm their apostle, such assumption is without doubt…so why? Why do I bear not a single ability from their progeny nor tier to ascertain?' Eros subconsciously queried, heterochromatic eyes of polychromatic pigmentation luridly placed afore the gargantuan delineation of Medusa, for poignant lips of pestiferous poison bred smile of resplendent verve antecedently taboo, myriad fangs toxicant with malign perspiration of blood merrily scintillated, enrapturing the aporetic mind of Eros. 'Beautiful…' The boy absentmindedly stammered, cretinous to the thunderous plight upon his incarcerated heart.

{+10% Affection (Medusa)}

"Hahaha, it worked. They're safe. I was not deceived by an effluvium of miasmic delusion. My mind belated before instinct. Your soul is undoubtedly pure, no matter how paradoxical such a notion seems. From this second forth, you are the apostle of my sisters, though likely you are without ability, for their divinity is temporal, akin to the vestigial wisps of an extinguished candle, though fret not, for with time it will return, their comatose spirit soon to wake, and with their coming will you gain their blessings, for the moment however I must instruct you, so tell me boy, what do you know about the path an apostle walks?"