Tarthocas: Chronicles of the Transmigrating Scribe Chapter 61: Death is not the End [1]

Read chapter 61 of Tarthocas: Chronicles of the Transmigrating Scribe by Bigmachine on NovelPedia.

The Central Hold, after Abel's Awakening, was utterly obliterated, resulting in the death of all below the Saint rank. Abel's colossal form made it nearly impossible for anyone to avoid looking at him. Only one individual survived, though they were severely injured. In the trillions of years that followed, The Central Hold would eventually repair itself and grow once more. However, due to Brahman's 'restriction,' The Central Hold remained technologically stagnant, though its appearance had changed. Now it resembled a tower at its core, with structures spreading outward like the spokes of a wheel, placing the tower at the center of a vast circle. At the topmost floor of the tower was a simple room, overlooking the entirety of The Central Hold. The only thing of value within was an enormous glass window, taking up one-fourth of the room. Karsus, standing by the window, sighed as he twirled a glass of wine-like liquid in hand, sipping it thoughtfully. His face, over the years, had hardly changed—he still looked like a middle-aged man, albeit with streaks of gray now threading through his hair. Suddenly, his expression shifted. In an instant, he teleported out of the tower. The other members of The Council, sensing the same presence, also appeared beside him. "Here we go again," Amaidine muttered with a sigh, as Abel arrived. As it had happened trillions of years ago, all inhabitants of The Central Hold, except the Saints, went mad and died instantly. But this time, Abel did not immediately destroy The Central Hold. Instead, it directed it's presence toward The Council. Suddenly, sparkling fragments appeared before them—shards of a Core. The Council recognized them instantly. "Apply. Piece. Redo. Take," Abel's voice reverberated, cracking their Soul Realms. Fortunately, Abel spoke in broken, simple terms. Any more complexity, and their Soul Realms would have been shattered entirely. As Abel burrowed into The Central Hold, reducing it to ruins once again, Karsus looked down at the fragments, more concerned about the task they were assigned than the destruction. The Hold could be rebuilt in seconds. But the Core fragments—that was another matter. Cores were the anchors of existence. Once destroyed, the individual's existence was completely erased. Even with fragments, it was impossible to recreate the original being. Reforging a Core would result in something similar, but ultimately different. Yet now, Abel had tasked them with doing just that—recreating the Core. How could they possibly rebuild an existence that had been erased? Though not impossible, it would demand an immense amount of power, which they also had to conserve for defending El-Eudo. But what choice did The Council have? As these thoughts churned in their minds, El-Eudo began to shimmer. A bluish tint spread across the realm, and within moments, a cyan El-Eudo emerged, growing noticeably thicker. "This must be the bonus our boss gave us," Rathanor quipped dryly. Amaidine nodded, and the other Council members followed suit as Karsus gently stroked the Core fragments in his hand. "I wonder how you knew it," Karsus murmured, as he began reconstructing the Core. ——————————————————————————————————————— Inside El-Eudo, the internal structure resembled the tangled chaos of yarn—an infinite number of strings, all jumbled together. Contrary to what one might expect, being inside such a mass wasn't beautiful. It was claustrophobic, even for those who had never experienced claustrophobia before. One might assume these strings remained eternally still, unmoving for all time. But that was far from the truth. In fact, the strings were always in motion, though their movements were so uniform that it seemed as if they stood still. When The Shadow of The Sovereign tore open a rift in El-Eudo, a paradoxical change occurred within its depths. If Abel hadn't been subtly healing the realm over the course of the trillions of years during their tug of war, an unimaginable catastrophe woul