Chapter 2192: Bring back father...? Fwoosh The shadows gathered again, moving like thick smoke, crawling and twisting over the cold, lifeless ground until they reached a single point and began to swirl faster. Slowly, a shape started to form—bones, muscles, flesh, armor—all rebuilding, all restoring what had just been broken. And then— "HaaaahhhhhhhhHH!!" Vexarion Aurendor gasped, his lungs pulling in the dead air once more. At first, he didn’t move, his eyes remained wide open, staring blankly at the dull, grey, deathly sky with his chest moving up and down, gasping for air. Then, after a moment, he lifted his trembling hand and looked down. The arm... the same arm that had been torn off just a few minutes ago was back again. The ribs that were crushed were whole again. The skin that had burned away was smooth once more. He was... whole. "Ah... no..." His whisper came out cracked. He raised both hands and touched his face, his chest, his throat—each part healed, perfect, and unscarred. It should have been a relief, and for the first few times, it actually was. When this strange cycle first began, he had seen it as a blessing. He remembered it clearly—reviving with all his power, unbroken, unharmed and... complete. He thought it was mercy. He thought it was hope. A... second chance. A chance to win and put an end to this. He had even smiled—grinned when it happened. He had stood tall and faced Sharnoth again, telling himself this time—this time—he would win. He was an Eternal who ruled a High-Level World. A being who had lived through countless wars. He had slain other Eternals, destroyed numerous worlds, and silenced armies with his mere presence alone. He was not someone who could be outmatched by a single being—especially not a hundred-thousand-year-old child. But... He was wrong. So, so wrong. After his first defeat where he was ’taken by surprise,’ the second battle—the one he thought was final—lasted hours. He fought until the air burned and the ground beneath him was gone, replaced by molten dust and collapsing skies. His golden light filled that dark world like a newborn sun—exploding with fury, slashing through oceans of Chaos. For a while, he believed he was winning. He thought that he had finally understood the ’pattern.’ All his strikes hit her just like he intended; the unpredictable Chaos was becoming... predictable. But Sharnoth... she laughed. Even as she walked through the sea of golden light—she laughed. And the longer the battle went on, the dimmer his light grew. His arms trembled under the weight of her power. His blade felt dulled, and she... she kept coming. Every tendril of Chaos moved without purpose, in an unpredictable manner, dancing between his attacks, slipping through his defenses. There was no rhythm. No pattern. Nothing he could rely on. "COME ON~ HAHAHAHAHA!!" She screamed between laughter, her voice cracking with manic joy. "Don’t tell me that’s all the light you have!" Her hand rose, and— BOOOOOOM The space around her exploded. A storm of purple-black fire crashed down upon him. It wasn’t just destruction—it was... corruption. His light screamed against it, trying to burn it away, but every time his light cleansed a part of it, more came crawling back. It was... endless. "AGHHHHHHH!!" He screamed, golden blood spilling from his mouth as he slashed through the storm. His aura blazed brighter—like divine energy tearing apart the darkness. But every time he moved, it burned. Every time he breathed, it hurt. His body was... decaying, the Chaos was messing with his body. Just like it had done before his revival. But... He refused to stop. He couldn’t stop. Because he was Vexarion Aurendor, the Herald of Justice! He was one of the strongest Eternals in the Universe! He couldn’t possibly lose! He refused to lose! He shouted those words like a mantra, over and over again. And every time he did... she broke him faster. Every technique he used—failed. Every relic he summoned—shattered. Even his domain... his Absolute Domain... collapsed when she used her own. The worst part? Even when her domain overpowered his, she didn’t use it to defeat him. What she could do with just a mere thought, she refused to. She... she simply undid her domain and continued to fight normally, forcing him to do the same. And that was when Vexarion realized it... This battle... He could never win. He had already unleashed everything— His domain, his relics, his techniques, his skills— None of it worked. Every time he felt his attack strike, he heard a maniacal laugh. Every time she ’bled,’ she grinned even more widely and... clapped for him. She... she wasn’t fighting—or at the very least, she wasn’t fighting to kill him. She was fighting to hurt him. Her Chaos tendrils didn’t strike his heart, they slid across his skin like burning knives. Her claws didn’t pierce him—they twisted inside him, pulling light out thread by thread. Her energy seeped into his body, crawling under his veins, coiling around his nerves, and corrupting everything it touched. Each time she struck, slow, agonizing pain followed. It was suffocating. It was... unending. "AGGGGGHHHHH!!!!" His screams echoed through the void-like world. And Sharnoth... danced to them—spinning, laughing, her grey hair turning darker, her crimson eyes brighter. The Chaos wrapped around her like wings, and she enjoyed it. Every cry he made was music to her. Every desperate light that flared from him was another spark she’d crush just to watch it die. And when his body couldn’t bear it anymore—when his flesh cracked and burned—he didn’t die because his heart stopped. He died because his mind broke. His consciousness simply collapsed, shutting itself off from the unreasonable pain he felt. And then... Then... He’d wake up again. Unbroken. Unharmed. Complete. And it would start all over again. This was not a blessing. He was not lucky. This was not a chance to push himself every time he revived. This was not the chance to learn, adapt, grow, or to find a way to defeat her. This was not a chance to test new techniques, mix his skills, or experiment with his energy flow. This was... a curse. A curse he couldn’t escape. A cycle that... continued endlessly, nightmarishly. A cycle that moved... forever. And as he lay on the cold ground, seeing his body complete again—he didn’t grin or celebrate... He... He felt horror. The ’more’ complete he felt, the more he trembled, after all... even though the pain was erased from his body, in his mind... It was still there. All of it. Every scream. Every second of agony. Every memory of dying. It was all still there. And just as he was thinking about it— Step Step Step He heard them. Slow, steady sounds of footsteps. And the instant he heard them, his entire body flinched. "Don’t tell me you’re tired already~ Looorddd Justiceeeeee~~" Sharnoth’s crazy, playful voice echoed softly. Vexarion turned, and his eyes fell on her. She stood just a few steps away, her bare feet pressing softly against the empty ground. Her long grey hair hung loosely, and her crimson eyes were glowing faintly in the darkness. The same faint grin on her lips—playful, lovely grin, a grin that almost looked... gentle, but when Vexarion saw it—it sent a shiver down his spine. "P-Please..." Vexarion whispered before he could stop himself. His voice trembled. "Please... not again..." Sharnoth tilted her head. "Not again?" She asked, pretending to think. Then, her grin widened. "Oh, you mean that part where I kill you? You make it sound like I do it on purpose." "You do," He said, his tone hoarse. "You—You enjoy this!" Her smile brightened. "Of course I do." He froze. Her honesty terrified him more than her cruelty ever could. Sharnoth stepped closer. "You should too, Lord Jusssticeeeeee~ You get to live forever! Your justice gets to live forever! Isn’t that what your kind always wanted!? Is it not the dream come true!? Eternity!" She stopped right in front of him, lowering her head slightly so their eyes met. Her crimson gaze burned through him. "This is eternity!" Vexarion stared at the woman staring down at him, his breathing automatically becoming uneven as his eyes widened in horror. He wanted to crawl back, distance himself from her, but his legs didn’t move. They shook under him, heavy like stone. A part of him wanted to glare at her, to fight her, to at least pretend that he was still the same proud progenitor who once commanded a High-Level World, but... that part was too small. Too, too, too small. Even if he tried to reinforce himself and pretend, his eyes... betrayed him. They showed only fear. He couldn’t help it. He had died a hundred times. And every time, he had felt it. He remembered the sound of his bones shattering. The heat of Chaos burning through his veins. The way his heart burst in her hands. The way his consciousness faded... only to return again, whole, healed, cursed to repeat. Vexarion’s lips quivered. His once divine voice full of authority and arrogance now broke into a whisper. "Why... why won’t you end it?" Sharnoth blinked. Then, her grin widened. "End it? Oh, no, no, no..." She circled around him slowly, her steps light, like she was dancing, her hair fluttering in the air. "You still don’t understand, do you?" Vexarion trembled, his breath becoming unsteady. "U-Understand what?" He asked with a stutter. "That this—" She gestured to the grey, empty sky, "—this isn’t punishment." Her tone softened, almost affectionate. "It’s a lesson." He turned to face her, his trembling eyes searching hers. "A-A lesson?" "Yes." She stopped behind his head, then crouched next to him, her voice dropping to a whisper near his ear. "A lesson in power. A lesson in helplessness. A lesson in... fear." Vexarion clenched his trembling fists. "You think this will change anything?" He asked loudly, as if showing one final, strong resistance, only for his voice to weaken on its own. "You think... breaking me will bring your father back?" For the first time in days, the grin vanished from Sharnoth’s face and her expression turned... still. She looked at Vexarion with cold, dead, empty eyes, making him flinch at just her gaze. Then, slowly, her lips curved again—but this time, her smile was different. It was... smaller, quieter. "Bring back father...?" She repeated those words. "Vexarion Aurendor, half of me does not even remember what my father looked like. I am not doing this because I want to bring him back." "W-What...?" Vexarion’s expression changed, and Sharnoth’s crimson eyes shined even more intensely—almost horrifyingly intensely. "I am doing this because it’s fun~"