The chain returned to Cairen in an instant after consuming the crown prince. Silence reigned. Cairen breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling heavily, but his expression remained empty.
Suddenly, a tallic sound echoed in his mind.
’Ding!’
[Secundary mission completed!]
{Reward: Fallen Elthar Bloodline (Grade 3)}
At the sa mont, his vision darkened.
The world around him, the crimson trees, the blood scattered across the ground, the terrified gaze of the surviving prince, everything vanished.
Cairen felt his sight fade. And then, when he opened his eyes, he was once again sowhere else.
An ancient temple, lit by flickering torches, with walls engraved with strange runes that seed to watch every movent.
A sll of burnt wax and incense filled the air, mixed with a faint tallic scent.
Inside the temple, there was an altar. There, a young human knelt. His eyes were sewn shut with thin black threads. Blood ran down his face, staining the white robe he wore.
The surrounding priests called him blasphemous heretic, cursing his na with every word.
Even blind, the young man lifted his head with difficulty. And then, from within his stitched eyes, from his destroyed pupils, the fallen energy gathered. Lonely, ethereal eyes with black irises and luminous pupils ford.
They were silent and observant. With each scream and insult from the priests, the eyes grew in intensity, and then a force that Cairen knew very well spread, full of pain but also pure perception.
The young man, still powerless, began to open his stitched eyes. The threads loosened as the blood ran even more. In a horrific sight, his new eyes began to project sothing that could not be sensed.
The first victim was the nearest priest. His mind was enveloped in impenetrable darkness. He scread, stumbled, unable to see what was before him.
All present tried to react, but the darkness spread like a wave, engulfing each one, making it impossible to distinguish floor from wall, friend from foe.
Cairen felt every detail as if he were truly living the mont.
It was not ordinary blindness. But an ocular curse that attacked the perception and will of anyone who looked at him. The young man was still kneeling, unable to move freely, but his pure intent was to show the priests that he was right. His concentrated, pure intent turned their entire reality into veils of darkness.
Cairen’s gaze swept over every detail. The young man trembled in pain, and a void grew with every mont. Every black tear that fell from his previously stitched eyes seed to feed the power he projected invisibly to all who dared look at him.
Cairen felt a sense of injustice cut through the air. The punishnt the young man had suffered had been too cruel, disproportionate.
But the young man’s truth could no longer be erased.
The new eyes seed to see everything, not just the physical world, but thoughts and fears. Every priest who looked at him fell, incapacitated, their minds shrouded by the ocular curse. Cairen realized the extent of the power.
It was not just physical blindness but a complete loss of orientation and ntal perception.
The entire temple descended into chaos. The sound of screams echoed through the ancient walls, but no one could react.
Finally, the priests and guards realized they could not control him. They tried to restrain him, to attack him. But it was useless, every attempt only expanded the darkness around the temple.
The young man, still kneeling, sighed. Black tears ran down his eyes. He gave his final gaze to the world, finally relinquishing his origin. His vision.
Then, the first steel blade pierced his shoulder. Another strike, and another.
The young man fell, but it seed his power did not cease. The black eyes remained active, growing stronger and stronger, projecting absolute darkness over all who surrounded him.
When his body finally died, the ocular energy seed to remain, impregnating the world like a curse.
Cairen felt this energy being absorbed into his own consciousness.
It was cold and heavy but strangely comforting and soothing. The young man had beco a fallen by giving up that which made him unique. His special vision.
As the young man’s body disintegrated, the mark of the fallen ford like a seal on his palm. He had truly beco a fallen before death. Cairen felt an imdiate, almost tangible connection to that pain and loneliness.
When the vision faded, Cairen returned to his physical state.
To him, it felt as if hours had passed, yet outside the vision, not even a second had elapsed.
The older prince was still there, staggering with his severed arm. Nothing had changed.
The tallic sound then rang out again.
[Fallen Bloodline Successfully Implanted: Fallen Elthar Bloodline (Grade3)]
Cairen did not need to look to feel the change in his entire being. His body felt more solid, his mind clearer. The headache that had tornted him from using the chains monts ago vanished.
And it was replaced by a strange, concentrated calm. His body had been strengthened with the fallen energy absorbed from the crown prince.
The older prince retreated, eyes wide, trying to react.
"I-Is this... what have you done to my brother? Where is he?"
Cairen did not need to think further, the chain rose, whistling through the air. Before the prince could react, it wrapped around his neck.
’Judgnt!’
The prince tried to scream, but his vision went black instantly.
’Ding!’
[Chains of the False Genocider judged and transford a being into a False-Fallen]
{Absorbing fallen energy...}
The prince’s body then disintegrated in seconds. Not a drop of blood, not a bone remained. Only the fallen energy, now fused with Cairen’s body.
He breathed deeply. His body felt firr, but at that mont, the mark on his back vanished.
Imdiately, mories of i Ran surfaced in his mind. Her smile and pretense. Her unique personality. Guilt pressed against his chest.
He had avenged her death, yet she would never return.
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