The Primordial Record

Chapter 659 Bless Me Father

The two Archmages, proud of their conquest returned to the platform and settled back on their thrones, fully assured of their power and dominance.

"Hah… what a prize we just hauled in. Hey, where is Hashim?"

"See for yourself. There is something wrong with the Ascension of the Black Tower's Seed. I know it's impossible for such a talent to exist without great drawbacks. What is the use of all that power when your road to the top would be plagued by such great uncertainties?"

"Well, I'm sure the Black Tower would do all it can to find the best treasures for their Seed, and before we get to the division of loot, we need to scrape through this entire region, something tells me more bounty is on the way. I can feel the pulse of Fate, and something magnificent is about to show up, perhaps it would lead to many unimaginable benefits for us. We should scour every single inch of this place, nothing should go unchecked."

The Archmage whom the Clone now understood was named Oshim, stood up from his throne, and walked to the feeble clone.

"Yeah, let's do that… hey, what do we have here?"

He was one of the returning Archmage who had captured the Children of Ruin, he seized the clone by the neck which left his legs dangling fifteen inches off the floor.

The clone's body began to spasm as he was seized by blinding pain and began to unconsciously squirm like a fish out of water as the other hand of the Archmage plunged into his stomach and began to rummage inside his body, rubbing against his ribs and spine, and digging into his liver and guts.

This was just the start as he felt every piece of his body being prodded and violated on a cellular level, it was a degree of invasiveness that could not be described as he began to puke all of his insides, which was nothing else but blood and energy.

The Archmage did not care as he was bathed in the blood of the clone. He even licked his lips tasting some of the blood as he focused on rummaging through the cells of his prey.

"You do not have to do that, I would have gladly given you a Bio–scanner to check his constitution." Zyatt the Archmage from the Alchemist Union spoke, irritation present in his voice.

"Nah, I like to be hands-on with this." Oshim laughed aloud, while pushing his hand deeper into the body of the clone, "Yet, I can see why you want this piece of meat. It is a particularly fine specimen."

Blood had begun raining down from the body of the Clone, and was spreading on the platform, the chained Children of Ruin were filled with rage as they struggled to break their chains, but the more they struggled, the more of their power was lost, as the chains was a Taboo Level Spell that could drain energy and vitality.

It was one of the most famous Taboo Spell by the 4 Star Archmage Oshim, and he was proficient in using this Spell.

With a sucking sound, the Archmage withdrew his hand from the body of the Berserker Clone, but he still held him aloft, as he continued speaking,

"I heard your suggestion to take him all for yourself, but that would not work I'm afraid, this Blood Berserker Spell is far too unique, and the amount of utility we can derive from his body is greater than just your Arcana Publication."

Zyatt frowned, "I told you I am willing to give up the other benefits here. What else do you want?"

Oshim still holding the clone by the neck walked to the edge of the platform,

"Hold your horses, I have checked every part of this Taboo Spell, and it is frighteningly durable, we should be able to share him into equal parts, and of course, we will leave a greater portion of his body to you."

The last Archmage that was present here was mostly silent, but then he suddenly spoke up,

"This Blood Berserker Spell possesses a consciousness, I wonder, does it know its maker?"

"What does it matter…."

The Clone was too weak to follow the exchange, but something drew his attention. A light that only he seemed to see, and his blood shook when every cell recognized that light.

With an effort of will that took every single concentration from him, the clone raised up both of his bleeding hands, and with a surprisingly strong and deep voice that resounded in the platform despite the torture he had endured, he called out,

"Father, bless your child, for I have failed you."

"Hmm… what is up with you?"

The Archmage Oshim noticed the weird change that the Clone was going through and he shook him like a wet rag. The Clone ignored him and fixed his eyes in the darkness above.

The struggling Children of Ruin all went still and suddenly they strained to move and as one they all knelt and prostrated on the floor, their hands spread apart as if in supplication to their god.

All the Archmage sensed something had changed, their perception sweeping through the entire place, but they could not find anything, yet they knew something was different because everything had gone silent.

It was not a natural silence, it was one that originated from the death of a soul… it was the last sigh of a dying man… It was the end of everything.

Perhaps it was because the 4 Star Archmage was closest to the clone that he saw it.

A string thinner than the silk from a spider entered the open mouth of the Berserker Clone, and for the first time in twelve million years, the Archmage felt such an intense sense of fear that he flung the clone away from him.

The broken body of the clone was pushed back thousands of feet away and suddenly he returned to his previous position back in the arm of the Archmage as if his past actions did not happen.

The clone shuddered raised up his head and looked at the frightened Archmage,

"Bless me Father as I offer my body to you."

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