Eternal Undying Chronicles

Chapter 59 Laughing In Pain

He opened his eyes—or he would have, if his eyes still existed. His head had been pulverized beneath the unrelenting hooves of the bicorn, and what was left of his face was a nightmarish pulp.

Jagged shards of bone jutted out from the exposed remains of his skull. His eyes, once sharp and vibrant, were now empty, blood-soaked pits. His cheeks hung open, barely clinging to his jaw, exposing splinters of teeth and fragments of his mangled tongue.

With a slow, almost mechanical movement, Alicarde turned his head to the side, narrowly avoiding another deadly strike from the bicorn's hooves.

His body groaned with the strain, as if even his immortal form had reached the limits of its endurance. But as the beast's hooves pounded the ground beside him, Alicarde's face began to regenerate at an unnatural speed.

Flesh and muscle knit themselves together with a sickening wet crack, bones aligning beneath the re-growing skin. His broken jaw snapped back into place, and the empty eye sockets filled, his eyes reappearing with an cold violet glow.

He pushed himself off the bloodstained ground, his movement slow and unhurried, a dark expression etched across his now-regenerated face. His hands, bruised and battered, latched onto the muscular form of the bicorn towering over him.

The beast, massive and rippling with strength, fought back, its dark, sinewy muscles straining beneath its slick, black hide as Alicarde forced it aside. Its fiery eyes blazed with primal fury, but there was something else flickering in them now—a hint of fear.

A low, guttural laugh bubbled up from Alicarde's throat, distorted and twisted by the madness that had taken root in his fractured mind.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Hahaha... HAHAHAHA!!" His laughter boomed against the sterile walls, echoing with an unholy resonance.

He stood, fully upright now, but was this still Alicarde? His body may have been restored, but his mind—shattered and broken—had been reshaped into something far darker.

His true name, Aeternus, had been awakened within him, binding his identity into something eternal, something far more sinister.

The fractured pieces of his consciousness had reformed, but they were cracked and jagged, held together by nothing more than a vengeful rage and a twisted sense of purpose.

What remained was no longer a man, but a wrathful, depraved figure, a shadow of his former self. His once vibrant violet eyes were now cold and hollow, the warmth gone, replaced by a deep, wintery cruelty that chilled the air around him.

His smile, twisted and unnatural, sent a shiver down the spine of even the intelligent bicorn. It took a step back.

Warth, the bicorn, pawed the ground, flames licking at its mouth as it prepared to reduce the deranged immortal to ashes.

Alicarde grinned wider, ignoring the searing pain as he reached out and grabbed the bicorn by its horns. The creature's horns were razor-sharp, cutting into his palms as blood poured from the wounds, but Alicarde seemed unphased. If anything, the sight of his own blood excited him. His grin widened, dark and menacing.

The flames in Warth's maw grew hotter, engulfing Alicarde in searing agony. But this time, something was different. Alicarde did not scream. He did not flinch. Instead, he welcomed the pain, a twisted sense of joy flickering in his eyes.

"The pain... it feels good now," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roaring inferno that consumed him.

The flames wrapped around his body, searing his flesh, melting it down to the bone. His muscles burned away, his skin bubbled and cracked, yet his expression remained serene, almost content.

The torment that had once driven him to madness was now something he relished. His true name's power surged through his veins, healing him as fast as the fire could destroy him, regenerating the mind and body as the flames tried in vain to tear him apart.

Warth, sensing something was terribly wrong, tried to pull away, but Alicarde's grip tightened. Blood continued to drip from his mangled hands, one of his fingers torn off completely, but his grasp remained strong.

With a sudden, violent movement, Alicarde yanked the bicorn upward. Despite the massive beast's weight and power, Alicarde hoisted it with a single, monstrous hand. He roared with manic laughter, lifting the enormous bicorn into the air and slamming it into the ground with earth-shattering force.

The floor beneath them cracked and splintered with every impact as Alicarde smashed the bicorn repeatedly, bone and muscle giving way to the relentless barrage. The beast's body contorted and twisted, its flesh tearing as the brutal force ripped it apart.

"Hmm... where did you—"

Suddenly, a violent impact slammed into Alicarde's back, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The force shattered the concrete, and the ceiling collapsed on top of him in a cloud of dust and debris.

"Right, he can teleport," Alicarde grumbled, pushing the rubble off himself. He stood up slowly, shaking the dust from his hair, and grinned at the sight of the bicorn standing across from him, ready to strike again. "Almost forgot about that."

The bicorn panted heavily, its energy waning as Alicarde's words pierced through its mind.

"Fine then, be like that. I'll just wear you out. The pact puts a strain on you the more you fight me. Just give up and obey me, like a good little pony."

Warth snarled in defiance but couldn't mask the exhaustion that had begun to set in. Every time it attacked, Alicarde endured it without a flinch. His wounds, no matter how deep or lethal, healed within seconds.

The more Warth struggled, the weaker it became. The magic of the pact was draining it of strength with each passing moment.

Alicarde laughed, a dark sound that echoed through the ruined lab. He swung his sword lazily, making no effort to defend himself as Warth charged again, slashing at him with burning claws. The bicorn's attacks grew more frantic, but Alicarde's expression never wavered.

"Just give up already," he teased, his voice dripping with malice. "We both know how this will end."

Warth staggered back, its legs trembling beneath its enormous weight. Alicarde's eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction. He will break countless opponents someday, and Warth would be the beginning.

Finally, the beast's head drooped, its once proud horns lowering in submission. Alicarde's smile widened. The sight of the once-powerful bicorn bowing before him filled him with a twisted sense of triumph.

"All this trouble for something that was already inevitable," Alicarde sneered, stepping closer to the defeated creature. "Lower your head."

The bicorn, now completely subdued, collapsed to its knees, exhausted and broken. Alicarde's cold, calculated voice seemed to strip away what little defiance remained in the beast. He placed his hand on its massive forehead, sealing the pact with a sinister grin.

'Today is the day I shed my weakness,' Alicarde thought to himself, his eyes gleaming with madness. 'I will never be humiliated again. I will make others bow to me, just like this.'

Alicarde dismissed the battered bicorn, letting it vanish into the shadows. He glanced down at his body—covered in dried blood, soot and torn flesh. His tattered hospital robe was long gone, leaving him nearly naked.

"I can't let anyone see me like this," he muttered, his tone light despite the violence in his eyes. "Not even those useless chimeras, no fan service from me. Speaking of the chimeras why didn't any of them show up when I was fighting Wrath."

He glanced around the destroyed lab, spotting a discarded lab coat and hospital robe on a nearby table.

"Tsk, Victor's minions are so useless" he muttered.

He quickly donned the garments, smirking as he admired his reflection in a shattered piece of glass. "Heh, I kinda look like a doctor now."

He floated upwards, effortlessly ascending toward the elevator. His newly discovered ability to control gravity was still raw and imprecise, but he was getting better at it with each use. As he reached the elevator room, he paused, surveying the area where he had nearly met his end.

"I was so weak," he whispered to himself, his fists clenching tightly. "Never again."

The vault-like elevator doors were dented from the earlier chaos, but they appeared functional. Alicarde landed on the debris-strewn floor, walking slowly toward the doors as they began to creak open, signs someone or something was coming.

He sighed, sword in hand, swinging it lazily in the air. His violet eyes glowed with an unholy coldness. "Can't a guy catch a break around here?" he muttered, ready for whatever new obstacle awaited him.