CHAPTER 140: TO SEEK OUTSIDE THE BOUNDLESS

The portal hummed to life in the empty plain near Yoiglah’s hallowed sanctuary piece, its edges shimmering like liquid mercury under Vaingall’s stable skies.

The massive spell formation, etched with Eulanite runes and infused with Concentrated Darkness Essence, pulsed with an inviting glow—a soft, iridescent blue that beckoned like a siren’s call.

Yet, the air around it crackled with danger, void essence from the formation’s core leaking faint whispers of chaos, as if the unknown on the other side hungered for intruders.

The grass beneath it wilted slightly at the edges, reality fraying just enough to remind all present that this was no ordinary gate.

It led to a realm without spacetime, a void of pure potential where concepts might dissolve or warp into something unrecognizable.

Kivas stood before it, her silver-yellow hair catching the wind stirred by the formation’s energy, her white dress flowing ethereally.

Her halo glowed brighter, a beacon of divine assurance amid the uncertainty.

Samael hovered nearby, her red-black hair swaying, wings half-unfurled in readiness.

Sarkha’una, her witch’s hat drooping, adjusted a final rune with her glyphic spine pulsing.

Blanchette lingered at the periphery, her pale skin almost blending with the plain’s mythic grass, white hair trailing like mist, red eyes gleaming with that same unusual eagerness.

"Ready?" Kivas asked, her voice steady, though excitement laced her tone.

The grimoire’s discovery had been a breakthrough after days of frustration, and Blanchette’s rare endorsement only fueled her curiosity.

Samael nodded, stepping forward. "I’ll follow along. Can’t let you wander alone into some conceptless void... or a void filled with concepts. Either way, both possess the same danger."

As Samael approached the portal’s threshold, a strong force repelled her—like an invisible wall of compressed space slamming against her chest.

She staggered back, wings flaring to steady herself, void essence crackling in protest. "What the—?" She tried again, pushing with her full strength, but the propulsion intensified, flinging her several meters away.

Samael even tried sending a Limbo Tier or a Lust Tier forward, but the result was the same. So was it for others that Samael forced to approach the portal.

Kivas, standing closer, felt nothing—no resistance, no pull, just the inviting hum.

Samael glared maliciously at Blanchette, who stood innocently with hands clasped. "You knew. This portal only allows Kivas. What game are you playing!?"

Blanchette chuckled, her voice light and teasing. "Oh, come on, the Unrelenting Vow confirms it’s beneficial for her and Vaingall. I’m practically in no malicious mean to put my dearest sister in this situation~"

Kivas turned, her halo dimming slightly with concern. "Sammy, it’s alright. If the worst happens, I can expend my divinity for a fate-powered miracle—twisting probability to return home."

Samael sighed, her wings folding as she rubbed her temple. "Don’t rely too much on that skill. Foreign realm of unknown dimension like this might have different rules—fate could be meaningless there, or warped beyond recognition... Be careful."

Kivas nodded, eyes closed in acknowledgment, her smile soft. "I’ll keep it in mind. Promise."

With a final glance at the group—Sarkha’una nodding encouragingly, Blanchette waving playfully—Kivas stepped forward.

The portal’s glow enveloped her, a cool tingle like diving into starlit water.

To ensure she wouldn’t be lost, she tethered her spiritual essence—divine threads latching onto the formation’s anchor and Fathomi’s core essence, a lifeline pulsing with her halo’s light.

It would guide her back, no matter the void’s pull.

"Here we go."

The transition was instantaneous yet eternal.

Kivas felt herself falling, submerged into a sea of colors. Not water, but pure concept—vibrant hues that caressed her skin like silk, tasted like forgotten memories on her tongue, and sang in harmonies that echoed through her bones.

Red burned with passion’s fire, blue whispered of endless depths, yellow sparkled with joy’s effervescence.

Her senses warped—touch became a symphony of warmth and chill, taste a palette of sweet and bitter abstractions, hearing a chorus of chromatic melodies.

It was disorienting, beautiful, terrifying—like swimming in the essence of creation itself, where colors had meaning, sound, flavor.

Before she could orient herself, a conscious sound reverberated—not words, but a presence, an intelligence brushing against her mind.

It was incomprehensible, a language of fractals and emotions, alien and vast.

Kivas then focused, invoking a miracle.

She channeled her divine essence, applying the concept of fertility to the potential of communication—nurturing the probability that she and this sentience could interact as equals.

Golden light flared within her, weaving fate into a bridge, but before she could complete it, the sound shifted.

"Enough," it resonated, now clear, a voice like an echoing crystal. "Do not waste energy. I have heard your presence and aligned myself with your kind’s means of communication."

Kivas steadied herself in the color sea, her dress flowing in non-existent currents. "Thank you." Quite overwhelmed by this sudden development, Kivas was greatly assured that it wouldn’t be long for her to find out what she could do to fulfill Blanchette’s teasing prophecy fast. "I am Kivas Chariot, a humble Living Deity from the other side of the portal."

The voice responded, amusement tinting its tone like a ripple of laughter through a prism of light. "I know. I allowed your entry—brought you here."

Intrigued, Kivas inclined her head, the gesture deliberate in the weightless expanse, as if to anchor herself amid the swirling chaos. "My appreciation for the honor," she said, her words echoing with a resonance that bent the colors around her, turning blues to deeper indigos and reds to flickering crimsons.

The world shifted then, a transformation that felt less like movement and more like the unfolding of a dream.

Colors coalesced into bubbles of concepts—ethereal spheres pulsing with ideas unborn, fragments of thought and possibility drifting like motes in a sunbeam.

They floated in lazy orbits, some brushing against Kivas’s form with a touch that was neither warm nor cold, but a sensation of pure potential, like the first spark of creation igniting in the void.

These bubbles guided her, caressing her skin with whispers of meaning, leading her through the sea toward a central nexus where the hues intensified, converging into a vortex of brilliance.

"I am Fymnhendyr," the voice declared, the name vibrating through the hues like a symphony of flavors and sounds. Each syllable burst upon her senses—’Fym’ a sharp tang of citrus mingled with thunder’s rumble, ’nhen’ a silky glide of velvet over stone, ’dyr’ a deep, resonant hum that echoed in her bones like the toll of an ancient bell. "Of no origin and bounds you must comprehend," it continued, the words weaving through the colors, "merely knowing the name should be enough for you to construct my existence in your consciousness."

As the bubbles parted like a curtain drawn by invisible hands, Kivas beheld Fymnhendyr’s form—or what passed for it in this realm of abstraction.

A colossal entity of shifting geometries materialized before her, crystalline and fluid, a living power that defied static shape.

It was a sight filled facets and curves, edges that blurred into waves of light, surfaces that reflected not her image but infinite variations of possibility—as a child of stars, as a weaver of fates, as a destroyer of worlds.

The entity’s core pulsed with the sea’s colors, absorbing and refracting them in endless cycles, while eyes of infinite depth—pools of void ringed with prismatic halos—gazed upon her with an intensity that peeled back layers of her being, yet without malice, only curiosity.

"This world is unique," Kivas commented, her voice echoing strangely, as if filtered through layers of glass, distorted yet amplified in the color sea. "And it caught me speechless for quite a while."

She felt the realm’s essence seeping into her senses, her halo adapting by glowing with hues it borrowed from the surroundings—shades of sapphire and gold weaving into its golden light.

Fymnhendyr’s form rippled, a chuckle resonating as a wave of pleasant warmth that washed over her like a summer breeze carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth.

"This world is false—a metamorphic creation, a construct to house my existence," it explained, the words blooming into visual echoes, colors blooming like flowers in response.

The bubbles danced faster, illustrating the point—shifting from orbs to fleeting shapes of worlds, realms born and dissolved in instants. "I fashioned it from the void’s raw potential, for form is fleeting, and careless."

"Firstly, I thank you for allowing me to enter this world," Kivas said, floating closer, her halo now fully adapted, casting a spectrum that harmonized with the entity’s pulse. "Or to be exact, bringing me here entirely was your goal from the start." She paused, her eyes narrowing with calculated insight. "What’s the reason?"

Fymnhendyr focused, the bubbles swirling faster, forming a whirlpool of concepts that drew Kivas nearer, as if the entity itself beckoned her into its depths. "Indeed, Kivas Chariot, the formula from the grimoire you and your subordinates perused was no coincidence. I drew you here," it admitted, the admission carrying a weight that compressed the surrounding colors, turning the sea momentarily denser.

Kivas’s excitement tempered with caution, her tether—divine threads linking her to Fathomi’s anchor—pulsing reassuringly at her core, a lifeline against the unknown.

"Drew me? How?" she pressed, her voice steady, probing for cracks in the entity’s facade.

The entity shifted, colors deepening to solemn blues that evoked the vastness of forgotten oceans, hues that tasted of salt and eternity on her tongue.

"The grimoire echoed my call—a fragment of my essence, lost in your realm. You found it, activated it—it is as simple as that. A beacon I cast in the form of pure possibility in that world long ago, waiting for one worthy to encounter it amidst the chaos presented."

Kivas crossed her arms, the motion sending ripples through the color sea, her dress billowing in currents that weren’t there. "Worthy? For what?"

Fymnhendyr’s form contracted, the sea of colors darkening to inky violets and shadowed indigos, bubbles stilling as if the realm itself held its breath.

"To free me from this eternal prison," it revealed, the words heavy with the gravity of ages, echoing like a plea from the heart of a star.

The revelation hung in the color sea, the bubbles freezing in place, the entity’s eyes dimming with a vulnerability that contrasted its colossal presence.

Kivas felt the weight pressing upon her—another curse, another plea for salvation, echoing Ardan’s desperate request in ways that stirred a sense of pattern, of fate weaving threads she couldn’t yet see.

For something like this to happen twice in such close proximity, she wondered if she had become a magnet for such encounters, a beacon for the bound and the cursed.

But Fymnhendyr’s presence was vast.

What chains could bind a being that forged worlds from nothing? What force could imprison a consciousness—or lack thereof—that shaped sensation itself?

She floated closer, the colors parting like respectful courtiers, her tether humming with reassurance. "A prison? Of what nature? And why me?"

Kivas already had some hypothesis brewing, but seeing that none of them had been brought by Fymnhendyr, she could attest that future-sight or mind-reading was not within its capabilities.

Either that, or being a Living Deity had given Kivas some perk to fight against such trickery.

However, Kivas could see that Fymnhendyr had some power to see emotion.

Fymnhendyr’s form expanded slightly, the blues lightening to contemplative azures, bubbles resuming their float with a slower, more deliberate pace. "The prison is not of bars or chains, but of exile—cast into this void by forces older than your Fathomi, entities that feared my potential to unravel their order.

"I am a being of creation, of boundless form, but they sealed me here, where time and space dissolve, trapping me in endless introspection without outlet. You, Kivas Chariot, carry the spark of divinity that can pierce such seals—your very essence, your miracles, your will to nurture and free.

"I sensed you through the grimoire’s fragment, a soul capable of breaking cycles, and I wished for nothing more for the flow to continue and lead me to my desired path."

Kivas pondered, her halo flickering as she absorbed the implications.

The color sea responded to her thoughts, hues shifting to thoughtful greens and purples, tasting of contemplation and resolve.

"And if I free you? What then? Do you seek revenge, or something more?"

The entity rippled with what might have been a sigh, the bubbles trembling like leaves in a breeze. "Revenge is for the bound—freedom is for the boundless. I seek to exist beyond this construct, to weave realities as I once did.

"In return, I offer alliance—knowledge of realms beyond your own, power to bolster your Vaingall against the cosmic threats that loom."

The revelation hung heavy, Kivas feeling the pull of destiny, the tether to Fathomi grounding her amid the temptation.

Another ally from the unknown, another curse to break—but this one felt grander, a key to unlocking doors she hadn’t known existed.