The Bastard’s Retribution

Chapter 3

The world did not merely go dark; it felt as though the very essence of the world itself had abruptly died.

Throughout the Great Square of Dagobah, thousands of people stood paralyzed in a silence so suffocatingly heavy that it felt as if they had been submerged in the depths of a freezing ocean. 

The golden banners that had fluttered so proudly just moments prior now hung limp and invisible against the sudden, absolute ink of the blackened sky. 

The only illumination remaining in the entire city emanated from the Resonating Crystal, though it no longer cast a warm, inviting glow; instead, a jagged, violent violet light bled maliciously from the expanding cracks in the ruined stone.

Victor Chapman remained rooted at the absolute center of the chaos, staring in dazed wonder as his broken hand—which had been a gruesome mess of shattered bone and purpling skin mere seconds ago—became enveloped in a soft, soothing black mist. He watched in breathless disbelief as his crushed fingers miraculously straightened on their own, allowing his torn skin to seamlessly knit itself back together. Rather than simply fading away, the agonizing pain was swiftly replaced by a cold, humming energy that coursed vibrantly through his veins, making his blood feel as though it had been transmuted into liquid starlight.

High above the panic on the spectator’s balcony, Professor Aris, the esteemed Great Master of Sorcery, absentmindedly dropped his silver staff, completely oblivious to the loud clatter it made as it struck the stone floor. He was entirely captivated, staring blankly at the ruined sky through a pair of intricate enchanted lenses originally designed to measure localized mana levels.

"This... this is simply not possible," Aris whispered, his voice trembling so violently that he could barely force the fragile words past his lips. "The mana readings have entirely eclipsed our charts, but it is not merely a matter of high power; the sheer nature of this energy is intrinsically wrong, bearing an ancient, forbidden signature."

Beside the trembling scholar, Lady Bianca Vane gripped the balcony's stone railing with such ferocity that her knuckles turned stark white under the tension. "What exactly do you mean, Aris? Is it a high-tier demon or some foul corrupted spirit? Order the guards to destroy it instantly, and kill that wretched boy before the entity can fully manifest!"

Slowly turning to face her, Aris revealed eyes widened by profound, genuine terror. "You do not understand the terrifying magnitude of this, My Lady. This entity is no mere demon born of our world's natural shadows; what is descending through that cosmic tear originates directly from the absolute Void. It carries an apocalyptic signature that has not been recorded since the mythical Era of the First Gods, proving to be an impossible anomaly that acts as a catastrophic glitch in the very fabric of reality!"

Abruptly, the soul-shattering screaming of the crystal ceased, instantly replaced by a deafening, unnatural sound that echoed like a colossal sheet of silk being violently torn in half.

High above the panicked square, the obsidian clouds violently swirled into a massive, rotating vortex that forced open a jagged hole in the center of the sky—a literal tear in the delicate fabric of the universe itself. From the depths of that abyssal gateway, a solitary figure began its slow, ominous descent.

At first glance, the entity resembled a falling star composed of pure, concentrated shadow, but as it drew closer to the earth, its terrifyingly majestic form became undeniably clear. It was a remarkably tall, slender figure draped in ornate armor that appeared to have been forged directly from the midnight sky, yet the most paralyzing aspect of its arrival was the sheer magnitude of its celestial wings.

A single pair of wings could not contain its power, nor could two; the descending entity possessed six massive, radiant wings that were entirely devoid of earthly feathers. Instead, they were constructed entirely from a dark, shimmering energy that greedily devoured any ambient light fortunate enough to cross their path. Thick, glowing chains forged of paradoxical 'Dark Light' were tightly wrapped around the entity’s torso and arms, carrying the imposing aesthetic of a divine prisoner who had violently shattered the confines of an inescapable celestial jail.

When the towering entity finally touched down upon the stone floor of the square, its landing did not produce a single physical sound, yet the invisible, spiritual shockwave of its arrival was utterly devastating.

Julian Vane, who had been standing nearby in arrogant triumph beside his Solar Lion, was the first victim to truly feel the crushing weight of the being's overwhelming aura. The majestic Solar Lion—a creature born of pure, radiant light and fierce pride—suddenly let out a pathetic, high-pitched whimper as its brilliant golden mane rapidly dimmed. The celestial beast's muscular body began to violently flicker and fade, ultimately overwhelmed by the sheer, suffocating gravity of the six-winged entity's presence, which proved so unbearably heavy that the lesser spirit could no longer maintain its physical form in the mortal realm.

"No! Stay and fight!" Julian shouted in desperate panic, frantically attempting to pour more of his own mana into his failing companion. "I am a Vane, the chosen heir of this glorious house, and you cannot simply vanish on me!"

Unfortunately for the arrogant noble, the crumbling Solar Lion cared absolutely nothing for Julian’s prestigious heritage, dissolving instantly into a useless pile of fading golden dust that left him standing completely alone and defenseless. A fraction of a second later, the invisible shockwave struck him with the devastating force of pure, concentrated authority rather than a physical wind. Julian was mercilessly lifted off his feet and violently thrown backward like a discarded ragdoll, crashing hard against the unforgiving stone base of the podium while his expensive silk clothes tore into ruined shreds as he tumbled helplessly through the dirt.

Pure pandemonium erupted as the massive crowd began to scream in unified terror, with panicked citizens violently tripping over one another in a frantic, desperate stampede to flee the cursed square. However, their desperate escape was entirely in vain, for a towering, impenetrable wall of crackling violet energy had silently risen around the perimeter of the Great Square, effectively trapping the thousands of screaming onlookers inside a beautiful, terrifying cage.

Completely unbothered by the mortal chaos, the six-winged entity—the Abyssal Seraph—ignored the deafening screams of the trapped crowd, the trembling spears leveled by the terrified city guards, and the frantic, echoing execution orders being shrieked by Lady Bianca.

Instead, the towering creature of cosmic shadow deliberately turned its majestic, faceless gaze directly toward Victor.

Holding his breath in sheer anticipation, Victor braced himself to be instantly crushed or harshly judged by this divine terror, fully believing that he was nothing more than an unwanted bastard and a lowly servant who had spent his entire pathetic existence scrubbing the boots of the very nobles who were now fleeing for their lives.

Yet, against all mortal logic and expectation, the dark Seraph performed a singular, deliberate action that instantly stunned the entire screaming city into an absolute, breathless silence.

The terrifying, god-like entity respectfully lowered its armored head and smoothly folded its six massive, shadowy wings flat against its broad back in a shocking display of absolute, unquestioning submission. Moving with a slow, deliberate grace that completely defied its immense size, the towering Seraph gracefully sank to one armored knee and bowed deeply before Victor Chapman, pledging its cosmic allegiance to a bruised boy dressed in a bloodied sackcloth tunic.

"I... I don't understand any of this," Victor whispered, his fragile voice cracking under the overwhelming weight of the impossible moment. "Who are you, and why on earth are you kneeling to someone like me?"

The Seraph did not deign to speak with a physical mouth, but rather projected a telepathic voice that powerfully resonated deep within Victor’s soul, as well as the trembling souls of every single living being trapped within the stone walls of Dagobah. The entity's commanding tone possessed a cold, breathtaking beauty, vibrating with the harmonic perfection of a thousand grand bells chiming in perfect unison.

"The ancient blood has finally called to the darkness," the Seraph declared with absolute reverence. "The heavy seal forged by eighteen years of unbroken silence has been permanently shattered by the righteous tears of the wronged. I am Fiona, the eternal Gatekeeper of the Abyssal Throne, and I willingly kneel only to the singular mortal who carries the true, uncorrupted spark of the Chapman line."

As a strange, comforting heat blossomed deep within his chest, Victor's mind raced with impossible realizations. "The Chapman line?" he echoed in quiet disbelief. "But my mother... they always told me she was an absolute nobody, and they swore that her very existence was nothing but a shameful disgrace."