Chương 29: Apostle Selection
"It's no use," John Kottman declared, his voice tinged with resignation as he raised his spear to strike Oliver's head from his shoulders. With a swift and decisive motion, he brought the weapon down, intending to end Oliver's defiance once and for all. However, just as the blow was about to land, a surge of energy erupted from the gauntlet, enveloping John Kottman in its searing embrace.
Thushhh. With a deafening roar, the force of the blast sent John Kottman hurtling through the air, his body propelled with staggering force to the other side of the battlefield. As he crashed to the ground, the impact reverberated through his bones, leaving him dazed and disoriented.
Meanwhile, Oliver's severed head lay discarded on the ground, a grim reminder of the violence that had unfolded. Yet, to everyone's astonishment, the gauntlet began to glow with an otherworldly light, its power knitting flesh and sinew back together with miraculous precision. With a sickening squelch, Oliver's head was reattached to his body, and the wounds miraculously healed as if they had never existed. As he rose to his feet, a newfound sense of strength coursed through his veins, his eyes blazing with determination.
"Hahahaha, you nut, totally nut," Arthur's voice echoed with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. For the first time, Arthur broke his god-like character and laughed madly. His laughter, tinged with a hint of madness, reverberated through the air, punctuating the gravity of the moment. Initially curious about who was calling his organization, he was now wholly invested in the situation. This was perhaps the most exhilarating event since he came to this world.
As Oliver stood amidst the chaos, the weight of Arthur's words bore down upon him with palpable intensity. Here was a being of immense power, offering up his very essence in a gesture of unparalleled generosity. It was as if the fabric of reality itself had been torn asunder, revealing a glimpse of the boundless potential that lay dormant within the universe.
"Take it! Take all my power!" The command echoed resoundingly in Oliver's mind, a clarion call to action that stirred his soul to its very core. At that moment, he felt a surge of energy coursing through him, an electrifying sensation that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mortal comprehension.
As the clouds high in the sky dispersed with alarming speed, a foreboding darkness descended upon the once tranquil Roasted Archipelago. The azure expanse above was swiftly engulfed by an inky blackness that seemed to seep into every corner of the horizon, shrouding the land in an oppressive cloak of shadow. With each passing moment, the darkness deepened, its tendrils stretching outwards with sinister intent, reaching into every nook and cranny of the island. The vibrant hues of the landscape were smothered beneath its suffocating embrace as if the very essence of light had been banished from the world.
In the heart of the village, where once laughter had echoed and children had played, now there was only an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder and the mournful howl of the wind. The streets, once bustling with life, lay deserted and desolate, their cobblestones glistening with an unnatural sheen in the dim light. As the darkness continued to spread, a sense of dread settled over the land like a thick fog, suffusing the air with an almost tangible weight. It was as if the very fabric of reality itself had been rent asunder, revealing a yawning abyss that threatened to consume everything in its path.
As John Kottman beheld the scene unfolding before him, a chill ran down his spine, and a sense of foreboding settled over him like a shroud. The darkness that enveloped the Roasted Archipelago seemed to intensify, casting long, ominous shadows that danced in the flickering light. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, John Kottman realized the gravity of the situation he found himself in. This was no ordinary encounter—it was an apostle selection ritual, a dark and twisted ceremony that promised untold power to those willing to embrace the darkness.
"Listen to me, Oliver," John Kottman implored, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and desperation. "That gauntlet—it is not of this world. It carries with it a power beyond your comprehension, a power that could consume you if you are not careful." As he spoke, John Kottman took a cautious step forward, his movements deliberate as he sought to convey the gravity of the situation. His hands, usually steady and sure, trembled ever so slightly as he reached out in a futile attempt to stay Oliver's hand.
"Please, Oliver," he continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Do not give in to the temptation of that cursed artifact. It may promise power, but at what cost? Is it worth sacrificing your soul for the fleeting promise of greatness?" Despite his best efforts, John Kottman could see the determination burning bright in Oliver's eyes, an unwavering resolve that spoke volumes of the path he had chosen. It was a path fraught with danger and uncertainty, a path that would lead him down a road of darkness from which there could be no return.
And yet, even as he watched Oliver draw ever closer to the gauntlet, John Kottman knew that his words would fall on deaf ears. The die had been cast, the choice made. All that remained was to bear witness to the consequences of Oliver's fateful decision, whatever they may be. John Kottman's hands trembled as he traced the sacred symbols of the holy circle, his movements imbued with a sense of urgency and desperation. With each line he drew, he muttered incantations under his breath, invoking the divine power of the Lord to shield him from the encroaching darkness.
But even as he sought solace in the rituals of his faith, John Kottman's mind was plagued by doubt and disbelief. How could one who professed to be a follower of the Lord fall so far from grace? How could Oliver, a mere mortal, dare to defy the will of the divine and embrace the darkness that now threatened to consume him? With a mixture of sorrow and scorn, John Kottman cast his gaze upon Oliver, his eyes burning with righteous indignation. In that moment, Oliver ceased to be a fellow believer and became something else entirely—an apostle of darkness, an enemy of the faith.
The weight of their impending confrontation hung heavy in the air, each passing moment bringing them closer to the inevitable clash of wills that would determine the fate of the world. But for John Kottman, there could be no hesitation, no faltering in his resolve. He would stand as a bastion of light against the encroaching darkness, even if it meant facing his former brother-in-faith in battle.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực