CHAPTER 197: TUMULT OF THE TWO WEEKS: PART 9-CONTROL

A wildfire of fury and desperation tore through Asahi. His hands shook. He hoisted the Orb of Immortality, then smashed it against the stone, shattering it in grief. This pain, far worse than hopelessness, became dread—the terror of losing everyone he loved.

As the Orb shattered, Asahi gripped a reckless hope that he could bend fate. The cavern heaved with thunderous tremors—a flash split the air. Shadows writhed. Icy terror climbed his spine, wringing his heart.

(BOOM)

Volcanic rage. Aletha, his sister and only anchor, had trusted him completely.

But when Asahi admitted his truth, his words came out sharp and selfish, leaving Aletha’s eyes crushed and wounded.

Twisting inside him, guilt and shame cut like a knife—sharp, unyielding, constant. Each new stab reminded him of her disappointment.

Telos, once his comrade, laughed with him beneath Linuxinia’s endless stars. Together, they whispered hopes to each other during the long, quiet nights.

But when Asahi revealed his selfishness, to save Aletha and no one else, the dreams he and Telos had shared splintered. Asahi deliberately turned away from them, avoiding their eyes. Even hopeful Kartara, who had once lifted Asahi up and given him the power to reset, hesitated and withdrew, leaving Asahi standing alone beneath the vast shadow of Brittlefrost peak.

A hollow echo where hope had perished devoured Asahi. Emptiness consumed him. His shudder made clear: redemption slipped away through his stained, trembling fingers.

Asahi’s final hope had gutted out as Kartara and Telos vanished from his sight, emptiness crashing over him.

Who was left to guide him now? Only twelve chances remained. As these questions whirled through his mind, the consequences of his choices echoed in the silence—and then the air trembled as the Orb shattered.

When the Orb shattered, a titanic roar ripped the air. Light erupted, a blazing beacon piercing the sky.

Blue strands coiled around Primrose, Grandpa, and Trid. Light engulfed Primrose, and she gasped as her uncertainty melted into newfound strength.

Grandpa felt a gentle warmth flood his body. A wistful smile crept across his face as nostalgia shimmered in his eyes, and for a heartbeat, every ache faded away.

Trid was transformed. Wisdom surged within him, as if the universe itself whispered its secrets into his soul. Suddenly, he could see through the tangled webs of every problem, truth shining clear before him.

Mysteries that once seemed impossible now unraveled at his touch. The emotions and motives of those around him became crystal clear, as if he could read their hearts.

"Why cower in fear as Owners?"

"Just how many of you are there?"

"Are there more children in the Adtraic family?"

As Trid absorbed these revelations, dread and uncertainty knotted in his chest, the true burden of his power pressing down on him.

He now grasped the world intuitively, his new power overwhelming yet electrifying.

In that instant, all three of them—

...became immortal.

"Primrose?" Asahi questioned.

Blue light spiraled tightly around Primrose, making her pink hair glow brilliantly as she hovered in the radiance.

Light swept Primrose off her feet, lifting her into the air. She blazed in the darkness, paralyzed by transformation; awe widened her eyes, dread froze her body.

Asahi stood frozen, his heart pounding like a war drum. Disbelief and loss warred in his tear-bright eyes. His jaw clenched, hands trembling, as the enormity of his actions crashed over him, leaving him raw and hollow.

Primrose’s eyes darted between awe and fear. The weight of immortality pressed on her chest. Fear tightened her throat; awe sent a chill down her spine. She flexed her hands, anxiety sparking into resolve.

Grandpa felt a surge of youth, accepting the eternal gift in silent reflection as memories of longing for more time flooded him.

Trid, overwhelmed by new wisdom and the changes surging through him, stood still. He looked down at the fractured Orb, feeling humble yet proud. As realization dawned, he understood immortality now belonged to Primrose, Grandpa, and himself—leaving Asahi on the outside of their bond.

The realization crashed down on Asahi: his friends bore not only immortality, but a cruel curse that forbade fighting. Any attempt at combat brought instant, agonizing pain—the same pain he’d felt back in Blacksmith Haven.

The curse’s grip was relentless; pain intensified with resistance, rendering defiance futile. Asahi watched his friends writhe against their new chains.

Asahi’s jaw locked as the truth struck; panic curled in his chest. He stood rigid with dread, feeling helpless as he scanned the snow with wild, overwhelmed eyes. When Primrose rushed toward him, her face etched with worry, Asahi recoiled, stepping back and turning away before she could speak—unable to face her or voice his fears.

"What did you do?"

"I’m going to settle myself," Asahi said. " Stay behind if you don’t want to get hurt."

Primrose moved a hesitant step toward Asahi, her hand half-raised. She faltered, uncertain if she should cross the distance to intervene, frozen by doubt about whether her help was truly wanted.

Without a word, Asahi turned sharply and broke into a run, determined to find and confront his enemy—Yawman—who had taken everything from him.

Because of Yawman, everything was lost. Those three horrific days scorched his memory: chaos erupting, bodies flung through the air, deafening roars, smoke clawing at his lungs. In that nightmare, dreams died. The massacre had carved him into someone new.

Alone with his shattered thoughts, Asahi drowned in rage, his fists clenched and jaw tight, as Primrose and the others crossed—a cruel reminder of what had been ripped from him.

(Where... are you?) Asahi mumbled in his mind.

In truth, vengeance and hatred were all he had ever pursued.

He clung to a boulder, battered hands quaking. Every breath fought the storm raging inside. One, two, three—each step dragged him closer to collapse. Four, five, six—vengeance seared his tongue. Seven, eight, nine—his enemies’ doom thrummed in his bones. Ten, eleven, twelve—hatred edged up to devour him.

"Where are you?" Asahi would not have behaved this way had he not shattered the Orb of Immortality.

Hatred blazing, Asahi spotted a shadow in the snow: the red-haired man, his enemy. Fury surging, he hefted the boulder and hurled it at the man’s chest with all his strength.

Blood. So much blood.

Snow and blood-soaked Asahi as he seized a rock and smashed it onto the man’s head. His movements were cold. Relentless.

He struck again and again, each blow a battle not just against his enemy, but against the fracturing edges of his own mind.

One brutal slam sent the man’s screams echoing through the frozen wasteland.

The second blow, numbed by frostbite, dulled his emotions, leaving him strangely detached.

The third strike was the most savage. Asahi’s crushing blow severed the man’s legs, leaving him writhing in agony, helpless cries slicing the cold.

This was the end. Rage screamed as he hurled the boulder, snuffing out Yawman’s life. Asahi’s lips twisted in a bitter, hollow grin. Emptiness gnawed at him. What remained after vengeance? The question scraped at him as he staggered back to the carriage, haunted and bracing for what awaited.

Asahi drew his blood-slick sword and lunged at the circling beasts, pouring his fury into every wild slash until exhaustion finally pulled him to the ground.

"I’ll handle this."

After Trid, Primrose, and Grandpa reeled away in shock, the world spun. Asahi passed out, darkness enveloping his sight, and—

. . .

A voice came from the watery horizon.

"What do you want? I thought you were... done with me." A figure stood at the horizon, ankle-deep in the shallow water.

Asahi felt the familiar pull of the dream world.

The air thickened with unspoken memories, each whisper hinting at ancient secrets beyond his journey across the changed world.

Just like in previous dreams, Asahi encountered a familiar presence—someone from his past, or rather, present.

Neither Telos nor Kartara nor Aletha appeared this time; instead, a different figure stood before him.

Fear prickled at the edges of his consciousness, yet a deep, aching longing twisted inside him, almost painfully bittersweet.

The ambiance pressed against his chest, heavy and suffocating, each uncertain step through the fog echoing with regret for moments lost and dreams abandoned.

Someone he hadn’t seen in a long time appeared, stirring a profound yearning and a sharp pang of nostalgia that both warmed and wounded his heart.

Although the presence offered comfort, it was tinged with a haunting unease, as if his subconscious pleaded for him to grasp something vital and just out of reach.

Asahi’s heart thudded painfully, a desperate need to remember gnawing at his soul, despite the shadows of his past waiting to be confronted.

"Haven’t you seen the product of your selfishness?" he said, bending over the eternal waters. "Why think about your worst enemy? Haven’t you forgotten?"

In front of him stood a man with blond hair and violet eyes—someone Asahi despised.

"The Ruler of The Forgotten?"

And yet, unlike inside the white void, water receded from this figure’s feet as it moved forward. Asahi took a cautious step closer, but as he recognized the man, he recoiled suddenly, stopping himself and speaking quickly.

"Go on," the Ruler said. "You have already defeated me. No need to ponder about something you can’t control." After Asahi stepped back, the Ruler of The Forgotten, or rather... Paxon... continued.

"You see... both past and future lives inside your heads. They’re uncontrollable, unlike the present." He wiped sweat off his face. "When you forget, you lose touch with the essence of your own existence. You understand that at most, don’t you?"

Asahi went silent, struck by the truth in Paxon’s words, before he spoke again.

"To remember is to live again, to feel time’s weight and the pull of fate," the man said. His voice sounded tired yet pressing, as if he were hoping Asahi would understand.

A pause lingered, the waves gentle, before the man spoke again, his voice soft yet firm.

"Isn’t it strange how the forgotten ties bind stronger than those remembered, Asahi? In this space, echoes of the past are all that remain. It is your mindscape."

A jolt of realization flickered through Asahi. It dawned on him that Paxon had ’drunk’ all the memories, taking those that rightfully belonged to him.

With a furrowed brow, Asahi asked, still uncertain, as he watched Paxon staring into the eternal sunlight.

"You still have the memories I want," Asahi inquired.

"What? The ones that I have already been drinking?" Paxon retraced Asahi’s words before stepping back and continuing. "Why ask me out of all the times? What is your motive?"

That’s when something truly unexplainable came from Asahi’s curious lips.

"Because..." He said, taking a pause. " I want to know what happened to my world. I want to know what happened to Aletha. What happened with Kendra? "

The Ruler of the Forgotten went silent at his words.

"World? You mean the Nameless Caverns?"

Asahi’s gray eyes widened as he struggled to recall what had happened in the Nameless Caverns. His tone unsteady, he replied.

"You know?!’

Paxon laughed at his response.

"Of course I know." He took a breather. "You see, after my defeat in The Forbidden Book, my presence merged with your mind, causing you to forget what I wish. My power is not just erasure; imagine the mind as a vast library. I rearrange books—some slipping into shadows, forgotten but never truly lost.

Paxon turned to Asahi as a fleeting memory—another man with blonde hair and violet eyes—shimmered at the edge of Asahi’s thoughts. Paxon continued speaking.

"I used to be the Ruler of Memories, an enigma with limitless potential. But that’s all I can remember. It is certain that I have lived deep in your consciousness—it’s the only way I survive. Though much of me lies forgotten, there is a flicker of hope."

After a long, daunting silence, staring into Asahi’s baby gray eyes, the blonde-haired man smirked with his sharp teeth and asked.

"Say, let’s make a trade, shall we?"

"Trade?" Asahi muttered under his breath. With Asahi’s senses heightened and memories of the past failures pressing in, Paxon proposed a deal to resolve the ordeal.

"If you can find a way to bring back my memories within the next two weeks," He caged his fingers, immersed in the space he set foot in. "I will grant you all the remembrances you can possibly gather. From before The Last Calamity, to memories from your mother and father."

The Last Calamity, a time where death and life danced...

This promise, especially coming from Paxon, stirred something deep within Asahi.

These memories that Paxon was talking about weren’t mere fragments lost in time. They were threads woven into the very fabric of his soul—the warmth of his mother’s embrace, the gentle strength in his father’s voice, and the innocence of childhood dreams spun through his memory.

Asahi’s heart ached with hope and longing as he yearned to reclaim the pieces that made him whole. What happened? Would their parents’ memories be sufficient?

Yet an icy fear crept in—a dread that failure might carve out the last tender fragments of his heart.

Asahi’s eyes widened, an unspoken terror flashing across his face as hope and despair collided within him in an instant.

He thought the memories were lost, but just before he stepped closer—

"But be careful; if you fail, the void could take your memories. You could lose who you are, your feelings, and the lessons you’ve learned, all with a snap. You might forget the people you love and lose your sense of self. However,"

He turned back to Asahi.

"If you succeed, as I said before, truths buried in your mind may come into remembrance. You can even see your parents’ or your beloved sister’s memories."

After gathering the details of how The Ruler of Memories, Paxon, was influenced by this calamity, after recalling everything that had led up to this point, his mistakes, if only he could remember...

"Now, tell me, what path do you choose? To help an old ally and even your family’s fate, or to drown in ignorance and death?"