788 A Reason To Live On
The volcanic air twisted and warped, filled with the heavy scent of molten rock and scorched flesh.
Rhygar's body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to run, to flee, to get as far away from that thing as possible.
But his pride wouldn't allow him to show weakness before this alien dog. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the terrifying chill slithering down his spine.
Instead, he turned toward the Dragonblood Knight beside him, his voice breaking into a frantic bark, "What are you staring at?! Kill—"
"Hurgh!"
A guttural grunt cut him off.
His eyes snapped wide open as the sound of rending flesh filled the air.
The Dragonblood Knight's armored body jerked violently, a blazing bony forearm bursting through his chest.
Dark green flas licked hungrily at the open wound, and in the skeletal hand of death was his still-beating heart, the veins still twitching.
The knight's mouth opened in a silent scream, his body trembling in shock.
Then—
Crunch.
The heart imploded, crumbling into ashes between Asher's burning fingers.
The Dragonblood Knight slumped, his life snuffed out in an instant.
Rhygar let out a horrified gasp, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
He stumbled back, his legs shaking uncontrollably, as the corpse tilted backward and plunged into the molten abyss below.
His entire body locked up as the Hellbringer stood before him, his skeletal fra wreathed in dark green flas, his empty sockets glowing with an unnatural, dark hunger.
Then, in a voice that was more a whisper of death than speech, Asher spoke—
"Run."
Rhygar's breath caught in his throat.
And he ran.
He turned imdiately, his leathery wings spreading wide, prepared to take off into the sky and never look back.
But before he could ascend—
A sharp, whirring sound cut through the air.
Rhygar barely had ti to register the blazing ring blade slicing through the bone of his left wing, severing it cleanly from his back.
A splatter of thick, dark blood gushed forth, his nerves screaming in agony as his balance wavered.
"AHHHHHHH!" His wail of pain ripped through the wasteland.
But he had no ti to even process the pain before—
The ring blade returned, slashing through his right wing with the sa brutal precision.
His body lurched forward, his severed wings tumbling into the molten abyss, their flesh sizzling upon contact with the lava.
He collapsed onto his knees, his screams filled with raw, excruciating pain.
"P-Please—!"
His words were cut short as Asher gripped the back of his head, slamming his face into the scorching rock beneath them.
His skull cracked, his vision spinning.
Then, the whisper of death ca again—
"You dared to look at her."
Asher lifted his head, forcing Rhygar to look up at him, "N-No…No!"
The molten fire in Asher's empty sockets swirled violently, an abyss of vengeance.
"You even dared to touch her."
Asher's thumbs pressed forward, his flaming skeletal hands clamping around Rhygar's face, "NOO!!! PLEASE DON'T!!!"
Dark green flas seeped into his eye sockets.
Then—
He pushed in.
"YAAARGHHHH!!!"
Rhygar's screams tore through the air, echoing across the volcanic wasteland.
The sickening squelch of lting flesh and bursting eyeballs filled the silence.
His entire body convulsed, his arms thrashing weakly as his vision turned into an eternity of darkness.
The stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and his wails turned hoarse, his breath coming in choking gasps.
But Asher was not done.
His skeletal fingers slid lower, wrapping around Rhygar's mouth.
"Your begging disgusts ."
Then—
With a single, ruthless jerk, Asher ripped out Rhygar's tongue.
A bloody chunk of muscle dangled from his fingers before he tossed it aside like waste.
"GRGHH!" Rhygar choked, blood pooling in his throat, his body trembling violently as he gurgled on his own lifeblood.
His muffled, pitiful wails were nothing more than garbled noises, the pain overtaking his entire being.
Asher stood above him, watching him writhe like a dying insect, before tilting his head slightly.
"Pathetic."
Then—Asher raised his ring blade, the dark green flas intensifying, burning with a judgnt older than ti itself.
"I will give you a new pair of wings that befits you."
The ring blade lashed out, slicing through Rhygar's ribcage.
Bones cracked and split apart as Asher tore his chest open, peeling his ribcage apart like the wings of a butchered beast.
The exposed red flesh quivered, the heat of the flas cauterizing the wounds yet making him feel every second of it.
Rhygar's mouth opened in a silent scream, his voice already stolen from him, his eyes long since lted into darkness.
His body twitched violently, but he had no strength left to struggle.
Asher watched him for a few seconds longer, his flas crackling hungrily, before finally—
He let go.
Rhygar's mutilated body collapsed forward, his chest cavity still wide open, blood pooling around him.
His life faded while Asher killed the damned flas that were about to consu his corpse.
He didn't even give his corpse another glance before turning away.
The air remained thick with the stench of charred flesh and molten rock, the echoes of Rhygar's agonized screams lingering like a fading nightmare.
Lysandra sat on the scorched ground, her body trembling not from shock, but from sothing else—a quiet, unsettling relief.
She had watched every second of Asher's rciless execution of Rhygar.
The way he carved him open, the way he ripped away his wings, the way he left him to suffer, piece by piece…
It was no different than how Drakar and Rhygar tore apart Droco, the man she once called her father.
Her lips parted slightly, a breath escaping her as an eerie sense of peace settled over her.
Drakar's filthy spawn was dead.
He would never breathe again. Never taint the skies with his presence again. Never again would she have to tolerate his disgusting self.
And for the first ti in decades, the unbearable weight on her soul felt a little lighter.
She exhaled, slowly, deeply as she got up.
Then, she saw him.
Asher had turned toward her, the dark flas of his Hellbringer form receding, his flesh and skin rapidly knitting back over his skeletal fra until he stood before her, whole again.
His eyes softened as he gazed at her, relief washing over his face.
Lysandra, however, looked away, turning her head as she spoke in a low, cold voice—
"Why did you follow ? I told you not to co."
Asher stepped forward, his boots crunching against the scorched stone beneath them, his expression heavy with sorrow and conviction.
"The last ti soone I love told to go away," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I lost my kingdom and a lot of my people. I am not making that mistake again. And now… I am relieved and glad I didn't."
Lysandra clenched her jaw, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.
Her fingers curled into fists before she forced herself to et his gaze once more, her eyes filled with cold yet barely restrained pain.
"This doesn't change anything," she said bitterly. "You didn't really save my life when there is nothing to save."
Asher's expression tightened, his eyes flickering with sothing deep and unrelenting.
He took another step forward, his presence towering over her, and without warning, his hand reached for hers, fingers wrapping around her wrist.
She imdiately tensed, trying to pull away.
"Don't… let go," she whispered, though her voice lacked the strength it once held.
But Asher didn't release her.
Instead, he tightened his grip, pulling her closer.
His eyes burned into hers, filled with sothing raw, sothing fragile, sothing painfully real.
"I know you have lost the will to live," he murmured, his voice breaking slightly, "but I want you to understand… ever since you beca a part of my heart, the knowledge of what I had done to you and hiding it from you was killing from within."
Lysandra stilled, her struggle ceasing as she stared into his gaze—one filled with nothing but pain and regret.
Asher continued, his expression softening, his thumb gently brushing against her wrist.
"I only wanted to protect you from the pain," he admitted, "but you were also right. I was trying to lessen my guilt. Yet...that doesn't change the fact that I was also afraid of losing you. I wish I could change the past, but I can't. You don't have to forgive … but if there's any chance at redemption, even for , I want to fight for it. I want to fight for you, Lysandra, even if you choose to hate for the rest of your life."
Lysandra's chest tightened, her fingers trembling in his grasp.
A war raged inside her.
The anger, the resentnt—they still clawed at her heart.
But so did sothing else.
Sothing warm, sothing terrifying, sothing she didn't want to feel.
Asher gave a sad, weary smile, his voice softer now, aching with emotion,
"At least that way, you have a reason to live on. I don't mind being that reason, so please… don't throw away your life for pathetic people like who hurt you."
Her breath hitched.
Her chest ached.
And despite everything—despite the pain, the betrayal, the loss, the hatred that should have consud her—her fingers tightened around his hands instead of pushing them away.
Her eyes misted over, her lips trembling as she finally let the walls around her heart crack.
"Why…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
She lowered her head, as if trying to shield herself from him, but the tears had already begun to fill her eyes.
"Why do you keep making feel like this…"
Asher's grip remained steady, unwavering.
Then, with the gentlest of smiles, he whispered back—
"Because I love you."
Lysandra's entire world tilted.
She slowly lifted her head, her gaze eting his, and what she saw in his eyes wasn't just affection.
It was devotion.
It was a promise, a silent vow that he would never let her go, no matter how broken she felt.
Her breath shuddered, her body swaying slightly as if her very soul was suffocating from the weight of his love.
And Asher, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes, did the only thing that felt right.
He leaned in.
Lysandra's heart clenched.
She wanted to push him away. She should be cursing him, to hurt him as much as she was hurting inside. And yet she found herself looking into his eyes which were full of endless warmth, making her feel sothing inside her lt, sothing she had been trying to freeze away.
His lips hovered just above hers, waiting—offering, not taking.
And in that mont, she let go.
She closed the distance, her lips pressing against his, a silent surrender.
Asher's arms wrapped around her, holding her as if she were sothing fragile yet precious. Lysandra trembled in his grasp, her fingers curling into his back. And as her tears fell, they were not just from pain—but from longing.
The warmth of his lips seeped into her soul, lting the ice that had threatened to swallow her whole.
But just as Asher thought she had finally chosen him again, she suddenly broke away.
Her breath was ragged, her hands trembling as she pulled back.
"I… I can't," she whispered, shaking her head as she took a step back, tears glistening in her eyes.
Asher's brows furrowed, "Lysandra…"
"I can't accept what you've done… Not yet," she murmured, swallowing hard. A storm raged in her heart, her mind caught in chaos. She didn't know if she could forgive him, but she knew one thing—she wasn't ready.
She turned her back to him, spreading her dark silver wings.
"Lysandra..." Asher softly called out but didn't stop her.
She hesitated for a mont. Just a mont. But she didn't look back.
And as her wings flapped and she lifted into the air, she only left behind a whisper:
"I now have a reason to live on."
And with that, she was gone.
Asher stood there, watching her disappear into the horizon.
His heart clenched with anguish, but also with hope and relief.
Because this ti, she didn't tell him to stop fighting.
She didn't say she would never co back.
And that was enough.
For now.
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