Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 319 Voluntas Beyond Fate — The Ninth Stomach

The sky turned ominous.

It was neither night.

Nor a storm.

But an emptiness that enveloped the entire world.

Green lightning flickered among the dark clouds, yet there was no sound.

As if the sound itself had been devoured by a force older than ti.

Amidst the ruins, Beelzebub towered above.

His once humanoid figure had swollen into a cathedral-like giant, a haunting embodint of terror. His deep voice resonated, as if transcending the boundaries of space and ti, piercing Fitran's mind and infiltrating his soul with primal fear that echoed through the very fabric of reality.

His flesh cracked open, forming nine layers of jaws that spun like the wheel of ancient fate.

Each jaw was adorned with glyphs of ancient will that glowed a pale green—an echo of the Proto-Speech language long forgotten by the world. Every shimr of light on those glyphs felt like whispers from the past—echoes of lost knowledge—intensifying the turmoil within Fitran, who remained ensnared in the suffocating reality of his despair, relentlessly exploring the boundaries of fear that had always confined him.

On his back, wings made of bone and flesh grew.

Black. Smoky.

With each flap, the air crumbled into decayed particles of ti. The darkness enveloping Beelzebub's wings was a reflection of all the pain and suffering, hinting at what was to co for those who dared to resist.

On his chest, a circular hole opened:

The Ninth Stomach.

The emptiness of life.

The source of eternal hunger.

"You have forced to take this form, light of humanity," Beelzebub's voice was hoarse and terrifying, cutting through the cold wind that surrounded them, like a relentless storm in the depths of the soul, a reminder of the eternal conflict between light and darkness.

"I am the predator of failed wills."

"I am the end of all choices."

"I am Beelzebub: The Ninth Stomach." As Beelzebub grasped the darkness, the world around Fitran felt increasingly constricted, as if all hope and options had crumbled away.

"All wills will end in my belly." The voice evoked a sense of horror within Fitran, challenging his courage to rise and fight.

Fitran gripped Excalibur tightly.

Blood flowed from his temples, but his gaze remained sharp. As despair crept between the beats of his heart, he pondered all that he had fought for.

Not only for himself, but also for the remnants of the world's grace. With each breath, he felt the weight of responsibility shift to his shoulders, reminding him that hope can sotis erge from the darkest shadows.

"Then I will cut your will before you devour , challenging a power greater than my own."

He raised Excalibur high. The blade trembled, as if welcoming back the strength that had nearly faded.

"Aurora Severance: Blade of Dawn's Resolve!" The call of his weapon resonated with the fervor of a long-lost promise, a rallying cry against the encroaching shadows.

A golden-white light burst from its blade. In Fitran's gaze, there was latent tenacity; every fiber of his being resonated with a fading hope that never extinguished. A second blade ford alongside Excalibur, crafting a twin sword that defied gravity and emptiness. Pride and determination fused within him, becoming a reflection of the trendous power he wished to prove, the ancestral legacy of warriors who had fought against the brink of annihilation.

Fitran leaped.

He struck straight toward Beelzebub's chest. In his mind, there was a shadow of the past, when he and his friends were safe, bound by the sa trust and dreams.

"If I can cut the Ninth Stomach before it opens completely..."

But Beelzebub rely raised one arm. A chilling smile spread across his dark face, as if he knew that every effort made by Fitran was just a step in a dark dance that had already been predetermined.

"Feast of Denial."

The Ninth Stomach opened.

A wave of suction expanded, absorbing the surrounding magic. A muffled whisper echoed, as if the entire world was praying for salvation, but no one could hear.

Fitran's light spell was swallowed before it could reach Beelzebub.

The aura of Excalibur weakened. When the wave touched Fitran, he felt darkness creeping in, infiltrating his soul. A deep sense of despair began to crawl into his heart's grip.

Fitran attempted to slash again, but his body felt heavy. Every movent seed trapped in misery, burdened by an invisible force.

As if his own will was being sucked into that void.

"He is not just devouring my magic... He is devouring my intent. My will."

Beelzebub moved his gigantic arm. A cynical glint crossed the demonic face, reflecting the resurgence of darkness that would surely take away everything Fitran had ever loved.

"Clasp of Hollow Hunger!"

His dark claws struck Fitran in mid-air. It was as if the claws represented all the peace in his life that he was desperately trying to reclaim.

BRAKKKK!

Fitran was thrown backwards.

Blood filled his chest.

His left rib was cracked. A sharp pain radiated throughout his body as the shadows of Beelzebub's resurrection evoked the deepest fears within every living being.

He landed hard on the ground.

Excalibur was almost released from his grasp.

Blood filled his mouth.

His vision blurred. In that dark mont, all hope seed to fade away, yet a part of him still burned with the desire to rise once more, not just for himself, but for those who had been severed by the darkness.

"This is the strength of will that predates humanity."

"Older than freedom, older than the very roots of existence itself."

"If I lose..."

"Sheena, Gaia, and the world will fall prey to Beelzebub."

He struggled to stand against the overwhelming force. His legs trembled, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, while Fitran's eyes sparkled with determination, barely holding on, while deep within his soul, a child's voice scread in fear—echoing the innocence he desperately sought to protect.

Excalibur glimred dimly in his hand.

"I cannot lose. I... must not lose."

But The Ninth Stomach grew larger.

Its abyss yawed like a black hole in the chest of the world, devouring all hope and light. In the deepest part of his heart, Fitran felt the dark calling, Beelzebub's whisper tempting him that death was not the end, but a new beginning he would not desire.

It is not just Fitran's body being pulled.

The aning of his existence is starting to erode.

"If I keep fighting... I will lose everything that makes human."

"Do you think willpower can save you?"

"Do you think love, choice, and light are weapons?"

"No."

"In the end, everything is hunger."

"Hunger that denies aning."

"Prepare to beco part of the void."

The Ninth Stomach releases its final sucking wave.

Fitran's body begins to lift.

His feet are torn from the ground.

Excalibur is nearly released.

"No..."

"I can't... Sheena... Rinoa... all who believe in ..."

"I am not done yet..."

In his last mont, a soft voice whispered in his mind: amidst the darkness ready to consu him, he felt the presence of Sheena and Rinoa, like small lights full of hope that have not extinguished. With every heartbeat, Fitran was determined not to let their nas fade into forgotten mories.

"If your will is almost dead..."

"Then be reborn not as a human."

"But as the will itself."

A dim light begins to shimr in Fitran's chest.

It is not ordinary magic.

It is not Light Sword Magic.

But an empty will.

A power that rejects becoming a victim.

The seed of the Voidwright.

"Umbra Aeternum: Eternal Darkness."

A black-purple glyph circle ford under Fitran's feet in the air.

This glyph was not rely destructive; it was a force that devoured the oppressive laws which had long constrained the will, creating a new dinsion that transcended the existing boundaries of reality. A gentle voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of the painful but necessary journey of leaving behind his life as a human, against all instincts that had long been etched in his soul, drawing parallels to the sacrifices of those who had risen against darkness.

"I... am no longer human."

"I am my own will."

A black-purple aura surrounded Excalibur.

The blade of light shimred with a living shadow. Each gleam seed to evoke nostalgia filled with struggles and suffering he had once experienced; his emotions surged uncontrollably, urging him to rise and challenge the laws that bound him.

"If you wish to consu my will... then you must swallow the void."

"Umbra Severance."

With a bold swing, Excalibur, enveloped in Umbra Aeternum, slashed through the sucking wave of the Ninth Stomach. In that mont, he felt the tension in the air, as if every particle around him was holding its breath in a mix of hope and fear. What Fitran had sacrificed was now being repaid; his strength lay not only in the weapon but in his willingness to imrse himself in every second of this battle with a spirit full of curiosity and bravery.

The black hole cracked.

The sucking wave stopped.

Beelzebub stood stunned, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face as the unusual fear of a being typically devoid of empathy surfaced. He understood that this confrontation was not rely a clash of power, but a deeper struggle of wills—a poignant quest for the soul itself, posed by Fitran's very nature and fierce determination.

"Impossible... does your will surpass the laws of my hunger?"

Fitran stood in the air, his eyes shimring blue and purple. In that light, Beelzebub felt the pressure of an incomprehensible force, a hunger driving him to evolve continuously to adapt to unforeseen challenges. As Fitran resolutely called out to the creature, he recognized that everything he was doing stemd from an innate desire to shatter the chains of fate that had bound him for so long, a battle transcending the physical into the realms of existential struggle.

"I am the end of the old chain of will."

"I am the breaker of the ancient Pactum."

"I am Fitran Fate."

Beelzebub roared, his shriek filled with seething anger, shaking the air around him.

"Then... I will devour not only your will."

"I will devour the Void itself."

The Ninth Stomach closed, transforming into an enormous mouth, its malevolent appetite surging in a terrifying form.

The sky began to crack, dark light and blinding beams rging in a horrifying dance.

The world of Elysvarre started to tremble, threatened by an unprecedented destructive force.

In the distance, in the palace, Sheena felt a pulse within her, as if an invisible thread connected her to Fitran.

Their child's resonance with Fitran's power was an unexpected occurrence amid this darkness, born from hope and longing.

"Father... I can hear you."

The little will began to awaken, a soft light of hope shining in the darkness that enveloped the world.