Chapter 46: Realm Of Madness [42] Symbol Of Bloom
On any other day, Leonidas would have loved to have a cold, porcelain mask on his face. For sad that today just wasn’t his day.
His scream died out, breath sucked out of his very soul, and the world vanished in a violent blur of white and black.
The world had vanished, a connection to his body? Not so much.
Leonidas could feel a million lacerating needles digging into his face, eyes included. The mask was fusing into his skin like an insidious on of bad luck. The sensation was far from thrilling, but the fear of sothing fusing into him, sothing unknown, was enough to overshadow the horrid torture.
Leonidas clawed at his face, nails digging into the rigid surface of the partially fused white mask. They bounced off harmlessly, causing Leonidas to grimace in pain...not that he wasn’t already doing it.
The harrowing process continued, the pain so excruciating that Leonidas fell to his knees, tears staining his eyes, yet refusing to fall. The cerulean depths of his eyes burned with hints of malice and madness.
The mask was nearly gone, almost entirely fused to his face. Despite the startling pace at which things had escalated, Leonidas knew one thing: no matter what happened, he couldn’t let the damned thing completely sink into his pallid skin.
Blush! Where’s blush!
The sword was in his hands re monts ago, but he must have dropped it when the mask attacked him. On top of that, he couldn’t see, so identifying the exact location was nearly impossible. Emphasis on ’nearly.’
If you cannot see, then use your other senses.
His senses, already enhanced by his accession into an enlightened being, turned even sharper as he tried to tune everything out, even the mad amounts of pain oppressing his mind.
The process was difficult, like trying to find a needle in a haystack, only that he was standing on a thin wire a thousand ters in the air, with massive winds crashing into him.
Still, he had experienced this particular problem more than once, and the solution ca to him more easily than he expected. During his fight with Fog, Leonidas had done sothing similar to what he was currently doing.
With one half of his brain focusing on the mask, while the other half, the more functioning one, zoned out and tried to find his pink blade.
Leonidas reached out everywhere he could, but the damned blade was nowhere to be seen. He abandoned the idea of using the blade at once and punched his face, knuckles cracking under effort.
Faint traces of blood covered the tips, but he ignored them and went on banging. Each punch felt less like hitting his pretty face and more like so sort of divine tal, one that could not be broken.
He punched and punched, but his fate was sealed the mont he stepped into the infernal chamber; the winds of destiny coiled tightly around him.
The darkness around his eyes turned deeper, colder, and more abysmal. Noise vanished first, followed by sll, and finally feeling.
Leonidas could not see, could not hear, and could not feel his body. An eerie sensation, wrapped in a profound silence, in a city of shadows.
What do I do now...
He was quite rattled, even if he could not yet fully feel it. The sensation didn’t last, and soon the world started regaining its color, luminous yellows, like the radiance of a normal sun, followed by brilliant shades of blue, like those of the sky.
After sight ca noise, birds chirping under the shade of swaying trees, wind brushing against sharp blades of grass.
Leonidas stumbled forward, his feet feeling weak. He realized sensation had also returned, the feel of the warm sumr wind, the hearty rays of the sun, moist grass under his bare feet.
Is this how it feels to be alive?
Having spent so much ti in the Realm of Madness, Leonidas had nearly forgotten what the outside world looked like, but even it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the sight before him. If he had to describe it in a single word, it would be...
Peace.
Leonidas took a deep breath and tried to move again...only to realize he couldn’t. Now that he thought about it...he hadn’t even moved in the first place. How had he stumbled?
His body...rather the body he was taking refuge in moved, feet gliding against the ground. He felt heavy, bigger, as if he had grown twice his original size.
Definitely not my body.
’He’ gazed at the sky, fingers tracing clouds in lazy circles. The serene silence was shattered by a voice, lodious and female, so soft it felt unreal.
"Dear, Ruren is about to visit, you should get ready with haste. Don’t you think it’s rather rude to show our favourite blessed such a state?"
’His’ eyes traveled downwards and landed on a beautiful woman with long black hair, dark as the night sky, falling over her shoulders in a loose braid.
She wore a one-piece, a mixture of black and erald, both colors of her hair and eyes. Leonidas’s mind halted for a good second at her figure, and the body halted as well.
’His’ body—in appreciation of her swell belly, in admiration of her strength during pregnancy—while Leonidas fell, still staring at the objects that surrounded her.
How in the bloody fuc—
Dozens, maybe hundreds of glittering objects moved around her in a loop, so twirling, while others spun.
They were crimson, shaped like roses, sharp like glass. The crystalline ruby roses closely resembled his own, only that they were far more perfect. If his own were a three out of ten, the flowers hovering around the woman could not be asured by a re scale.
She sat on a chair of the sa material, twirling vines for a backrest, a plethora of flowers for the foam, and a ruby rose as the main support.
All of those were well and good, but it was the identity of the woman that had brought Leonidas to a halt.
Crystalline ruby roses...the symbol of Bloom.
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