Chapter 398 Darkness Itself

"Ethan Bellrose–that's my old name," Emilio told her.

"Ethan? Let me guess–you were originally from the United States?" Excelsior touched her chin.

He nodded, "Yup. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you come here? It's a big leap to leave behind your old life."

Excelsior smiled, scratching her head, "Well...let's just say I wasn't exactly in the best spot financially. I was swarmed with debt, and I had made a lot of pretty bad enemies in the process. If I'm being honest, my "old body" has probably been chopped to pieces and sold on the black market–well, a long time ago now."

Somehow, the scarred woman still laughed while telling a story that didn't feel lighthearted in the least, but it seemed that to be par for the course with the hardened woman.

"That's pretty rough," he lightly chuckled.

"Right? Anyway, what about you? What's your reason for coming to this chaotic world?" Excelsior asked.

Thinking back on it when asked that question, there was still a small part of him that felt as though it was being constricted when recalling that painful, past life of his. Still, after what he'd gone through and experienced, he could look back at the life he had lived with an open mind.

"I was born with a weak body–that's an understatement, to be honest," he chuckled lightly, looking at his hands, "The sunlight burned my skin, my bones were as brittle as glass, and the air was toxic to me. To me, living was hell."

"...Damn, I thought I had it rough. You were letting me complain like I was with the best of 'em," Excelsior playfully said with a sigh, rubbing her own head.

"It's not a contest," he assured with a laugh.

There was a weight he didn't even know existed on his shoulders, lifting itself as he was finally able to talk about a truth that he couldn't share with any others on Arcadius. In that moment, it was a relief that couldn't be found anywhere else; a reprieve found in the strangest corners of the world, though one he accepted gratefully.

There was a lot of time to pass apparently–likely an entire day while staying put as enemies of the two passed by their hideout, so with that in mind, he decided to put that time to some use as he looked over at the woman.

"So...how much do you know about me?" He asked.

"Cliffnotes," Excelsior shrugged, looking at his metal arm, "How 'bout telling me how you get that rad arm there?"

"It's a long one, but...sure," he nodded with a smile.

Being able to share stories of his journeys with others was the greatest fulfillment for him; it was proof of the life he had lived, the proper enjoyment and experiences he had garnered, and the fact that the abandonment of his first life did not go to waste.

He shared the story of his adventure to becoming a world-class adventurer, along with his time in death.

"Ash-boy...He did all of that for you, huh," Excelsior quietly said before looking up, "It's not that I don't think he's kind, but he's always been somewhat to himself. The After...It sounds like he'll be happy there with those friends of yours. That's a relief."

"Yeah, I can still contact them actually," he said.

The answer to his question came from the woman invoking her system right in front of him, armoring herself in the mythical, snow-white armor. It had a different appearance this time; bearing a platinum scarf that seemed to be made out of beastly fur and gauntlets formed like claws.

[Mytheart System Activated]

[Current Stage: 5/10 | Mythical Keeper]

The air had become thin and dense with an ancient malevolence that caused the fog to become more abundant before a dark mist began to fall through the staircase, descending into the shallow sea. Once again, that feeling entered the pits of his body, swirling in him with a dreadful sensation found nowhere else.

It was the presence of something beyond human perception; a malice unequaled by man, beast, or monster. Darkness flooded through the domain, spreading like a silent smoke that quickly swept away the gift of sight from him.

Without being able to access his own system transformations, he felt almost naked amidst the overwhelming billow of darkness, drawing his sword and standing his ground as he stayed put.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps echoed through the veil of obscurity; ominous and detached from any seen body, leaving him only able to wait as he stood there, looking around to find that he'd lost sight of his companion.

"Excelsior?" He called out.

A few times, he repeated the name of the woman, though found no response as it seemed the ancient darkness carried his voice into nothingness.

Absolute unknown.

That's what it was; a fog that existed both externally and internally–a plague of mystery upon his mind that left him unable to perceive what was happening around him.

'What's happening? Where is it? Where is she?' He thought.

Each breath that left his lips filled his ears; all other sounds were vacant now. There were no steps, no responses from the other person with him–simply nothing but the silence and darkness that had swallowed the domain.

Every minuscule movement he made caused the flat water around him to lightly ripple, seeming as loud as the crashing of waves amidst the daunting situation.

'Another foe like the others...Nightmare, Dread, War...This time, it's Darkness,' he thought.

As his sight was limited, he did his best to circumvent the suppression of his own senses as he lifted his swordless hand, summoning the five lesser spirits for both light and extra pairs of eyes to watch for the enemy.

"Soulbound Spirit, to me," he ushered in with a whisper.

There were no chances being taken in the face of an enemy akin to the primordial forces he loathed, calling in one of his contracted spirits by his side.

By his side manifested one of the six spirits bound to him–a thin, quiet man with a single horn protruding from his forehead and a scarf around his mouth, darkly dressed and stoic: "Maroon".

"Locate Excelsior," he quietly gave an order.

"On it," Maroon said with a slight nod before vanishing into the black mist around them.

For himself, he stayed ready for anything, taking only small steps as he held his sword forward and kept his reflexes heightened as the lesser spirits kept a close perimeter around him.