CHAPTER 1138: THE QUESTION

Erend’s heart pounded like war drums inside his chest as the visions burned before his eyes. It was as if he was seeing those people cry out in agony with those lightning tearing through their barrier and sharp winds devouring towers of steel and stone, and an unknown force attacking the place where the soldiers and staff he knew were taking shelter.

His breath came ragged from his Dragon snout, each inhale laced with disbelief and fury.

"Adrien... Billy... Adrius... Sylmira... Arty..."

Their names echoed in his mind, swallowed by the soundless vacuum of the void surrounding him.

The rift flickered again then showing Adrien launching a desperate barrage of energy into the storm god’s chest. It barely staggered the colossal being before a counterwave of lightning hurled him into the clouds.

Billy caught him in the air and screamed his name. Then the vision shifted again into Sylmira’s barrier cracked under the weight of hail and sharp winds. Her arms looked trembling already, blood dripping from her lips as she chanted more spells.

Arty was nowhere to be found. At least for now Erend wouldn’t have to worry about her condition because she didn’t see her getting hurt.

But then he saw the last glimpse when the Magic barrier collapsed in a burst of white light.

Erend’s heart sank again. He clenched his fists, his clawed hands digging into his palms. The pain grounded him, but barely.

"You bastard," he growled, his voice trembling with something deeper than anger. "You didn’t just want power, you wanted suffering!"

Zerathul’s grin widened showing sharp and venomous expression.

"Suffering is clarity, Dragonborn. It shows the truth of creation. Its fragile, desperate, and blind." His crimson eyes gleamed. "You thought victory meant salvation. But every choice you made only strengthened the cycle I began. Without you realising it."

Erend’s body shook as red and black scales began to form, crackling with lightning and fire. The air vibrated from the energy bleeding off him, distorting the space between them.

"You talk too much," he said. "If Krono’s power is inside you... then I’ll tear it out!"

Zerathul tilted his head slightly, as if amused by a child’s tantrum. "Even now you don’t understand. This isn’t just about power. It’s about the very fabric of your existence. You and I, we are the same. We are just slaves of the same power."

"Shut up!"

The sky exploded in a flash as Erend launched forward. His fist that wreathed in blinding light struck Zerathul’s with terrifying force.

The shockwave ripped through the dark clouds, cutting a clean scar across the sky. For a moment, Erend thought he saw Krono’s eyes flicker beneath the armor. But then it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Zerathul didn’t even step back.

"You can’t hurt me anymore," he said calmly, placing his hand on Erend’s claw. "But you can choose. Fight me here and lose your worlds because you can’t go in time to stop the ancient storm god, or let me rise unchallenged."

Erend’s breathing hitched. The choice struck like a blade through his chest. He could almost feel their cries across time and space.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to kill this thing. But the weight of other worlds pressed down on him.

He growled low, sparks crawling up his arms. "If I leave now... I’ll come back for you. And next time, nothing will be left of you."

Zerathul’s smirk deepened. "I look forward to it, Dragonborn. Remember. That power of yours was not always a good thing."

Erend frowned, the movement tightening the ridges above his glowing eyes and making his Dragon face look even more menacing.

The lightning snaked across his horns and scales as he glared down at Zerathul.

"What do you mean?" he rumbled, his voice deep and thunderous.

"That power that lets you do such things right now," Zerathul replied, his tone calm but dripping with malice. "The power that sometimes gives you visions, or strange awakenings. The power that makes you stronger with every battle. You truly believe there is no cost for power like that?"

Erend’s eyes widened. The words struck deep. That description... It was too precise. Too familiar. The System.

The mysterious force that had always guided him, rewarded him, and strengthened him without ever revealing its true nature.

A plume of smoke spilling from his nostrils as he stared at Zerathul. "You mean..."

Zerathul’s expression hardened. "You know exactly what I mean." His voice turned darker. "That power you depend on, it will rot you from the inside, Dragonborn. Slowly but surely, until there’s nothing left of your will but obedience to it."

Erend took a step forward, his talons cracking. "How do you know I have that power?"

"I can feel it," Zerathul said. "Do not forget that I have lived much longer than you. I bore the mark of that power long before you ever learned its existence. I’ve reached an understanding of it that you can’t yet imagine."

For a moment, Erend couldn’t speak. The anger in his chest faltered. Even his fury, the desperate urge to save his worlds, dulled under the weight of Zerathul’s words.

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint rumble of thunder around them.

Erend’s massive wings flexed, their edges trailing sparks of lightning. He wanted to ask more or even to force the truth out of Zerathul so that he could understand what this power of the System meant.

But before he could speak again, Zerathul lifted his hand and smiled faintly.

"It’s no use for me to tell you too much," he said. "You’re still bound by that power’s illusion. When you begin to see the cost, then you’ll understand what I mean." His voice faded into the distortion of time, echoing like ripples in water. "Now, you go, and save your people, Dragonborn."

The space around Zerathul twisted violently, his body unraveling into streaks of light and shadow before vanishing entirely.

Erend stood alone beneath the torn sky, his heart still burning with questions.

The chaos around him had grown quiet, but his mind raged with questions louder than ever.

"System... what are you really?" he thought.

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