Chapter 14 Fate

"Yes, it would seem so," our op protagonist replied, his voice calm yet carrying a hint of intrigue as he responded to the mysterious voice resonating within his mind. 

His gaze remained fixed upon the expanse of dark skies, where an otherworldly entity, summoned by his will, prepared to unleash retribution after a prolonged period of dormancy.

"You've changed. It's the first time I've witnessed such compassion from you. Who are you?" The voice persisted, its tone a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Well, young master Dante," our protagonist began, his words laced with a sense of amusement, "the essence of gods and mortal beings alike can undergo transformation. Or perhaps, your time spent confined within my soul space has left you bereft of understanding the important changes in our world today." His chuckle resonated, a subtle undertone amidst the cosmic echoes.

"Impossible. A dark lord like you cannot alter, even if existence itself were to cease," Young master Dante countered vehemently, his conviction unwavering. 

He prided himself on his meticulous analysis of his nemesis, both before and after their fateful confrontation. 

This man known as Nero Deathbinder, was draped in the shadows of malevolence, personified unyielding, relentless evil.

"Believe what you will, young master Dante," our protagonist retorted calmly, a serene smile playing upon his lips. 

His mind worked swiftly, reconstructing the delicate mental barriers subtly breached by the shrewd and immortal presence housed within his soul space. "Your sentiments do not disturb my peace of mind in the slightest."

The cosmic tableau around them seemed to shudder, as if responding to the clash of ideologies veiled within their conversation. 

Yet, amidst the celestial dance, our protagonist stood unwavering, his demeanor a tapestry woven of enigmatic resolve and veiled power, concealing depths yet to be unveiled.

* * *

Kaelen, a man woven with countless tales and sorrows, followed the usual trajectory of mortal existence, yet fate's cruel hand seemed more unkind to him than most. 

Born without the gift of cultivation, he bore this deficiency with a stoic indifference. 

His life mirrored that of an ordinary man's: he found love, built a family, and strived to shield them from the horrors of the world with all his might. 

However, tragedy, like a relentless storm, eventually shattered his life. 

A noble's unwelcome affection toward his wife spiraled into a tragic conclusion, leaving Kaelen bereaved, his family cruelly torn from him. 

In despair, he fled, seeking refuge in distant lands, carrying the weight of his unfulfilled thirst for retribution. He would have died with many regrets.

His fate shifted when two enigmatic figures arrived in the secluded village where he sought solace. 

Initially driven by a desire to implore Master Lucas for vengeance against those who had wronged him, Kaelen's perspective shifted upon realizing that Master Nero wielded a might surpassing that of Master Lucas. 

Despite lacking direct proof, the village's fervent gossip convinced him of Master Nero's superiority. 

In a community as small as theirs, with a mere 2,000 more or less souls, such rumors rarely missed the mark, especially when these two mysterious figures remained the incessant subject of discussion among the villagers. 

In the end, against all odds, he emerged victorious. His journey had led him to the acquisition of a pantheon of abilities, once mere figments of his imagination. 

The intricate mix of powers associated with the undead, once elusive and mystical, now resided firmly within his grasp. 

The time had arrived to unleash the tempest of vengeance upon those who had inflicted profound wounds upon his very soul. 

With an effortless grace, he took flight, the world below a blur as he surged through the skies.

Memories flooded back, a torrent of recollections surging through Kaelen's mind. He remembered the vast expanse of terrains he had traversed in his desperate quest to salvage his useless life. 

Each step had been laden with peril, a relentless pursuit for survival amidst hostile landscapes. 

He had lived not only for himself but for those who could not do so anymore, sacrificing his tranquility and happiness along the way. He lived for his family's sake. 

Although dull but it was longer than most could boast. 

As the sands of time ebbed away, leaving him weathered and weary, an emptiness persisted—a poignant vacuum, an echo of a life spent in defiance of mortality.

Now, in his strongest state ever, a resolve as sharp as obsidian pierced his consciousness. Vengeance, the specter that had loomed in the shadows of his existence, now beckoned to be manifested. 

A desolate existence haunted by the echoes of a past imbued with loss and sorrow was about to find its culmination.

With each passing moment of his aerial journey, the landscape shifted below him. 

It was not just the physical realm that transformed; it was the internal landscape of his memories that underwent a metamorphosis. 

Kaelen observed the world anew, contrasting the past with the present. 

The city on the horizon, encased within imposing fortifications, grew larger in his sights. It buzzed with activity—a vivid contrast to the tranquil memories of his youth. 

Life pulsed within the city walls, a cacophony of existence that had evolved and thrived since his days of yore.

As Kaelen descended, the city revealed itself in its grandeur. The once-familiar place bore the marks of time—a melange of the familiar and the unrecognizable. 

He marveled at the bustling streets, the towering edifices that reached for the heavens, and the vibrant tapestry of life that danced within the city's embrace. 

Yet, amidst the vivacity, an undercurrent of purpose stirred within him—a resolve unyielding and relentless. 

Vengeance awaited, nestled within the heart of this thriving metropolis, and Kaelen was ready to unveil it.

Even in the shroud of this darkest night, clarity prevailed within his sight, akin to daylight piercing through shadows. 

Vengeance, an inexorable force, simmered within him—an unyielding resolve to extract retribution.

"RICHMOND!" Kaelen's voice thundered, resonating like a clarion call, signaling the arrival of the reaper in its entirety—a harbinger of fate's unrelenting hand, ready to harvest what was sown.