strictlysupreme Chapter 49: The rusted coin
Chapter 49: The rusted coin
Silence reclaimed the hyper-vivid clearing.... heavy, sudden, and suffocating. Veythor did not flinch. His crimson eyes remained unblinking, locked in a dead stare with the entity.The woman’s manic laughter gradually died down, tapering into a low, amused hum. She tilted her head, her neck twisting at an unnatural, slightly sickening angle.
"Wonderful..." she murmured, her voice dripping with mock praise. "You are truly wonderful, child. But you misheard me. I did not ask you to define the most common greed."
She took a slow step closer, her smile widening. Around her jaw, the flesh began to slither and twitch, as if something ravenous beneath her skin was preparing to tear through and devour its prey.
"I asked you why," she purred, her eyes boring into his. "Why do you humans possess this rotting quality deep within your hearts?"
Veythor stood motionless. Refusing to break eye contact, he forced down the primal instinct of fear. His contracted pupils remained hyper-focused, tracking every micro-movement of her shifting jaw. When he spoke, his voice was flat, devoid of warmth, and heavy with absolute certainty.
"Because malice is the bedrock of our species," Veythor stated calmly. "Since ancient times, as humans conquered and reigned over this world, advancement only bred a more refined cruelty. Every human carries a well of poison deep within their soul."
He paused, a dark, cynical shadow crossing his sharp features.
"Do a man a favor, and more often than not, he will reward you with a knife in the back or venom on his tongue. It is woven directly into our biology; it is our true nature. A coin always has two sides. Think of a piece of silver dragged from the dirt—one side is neat, polished, and deceptive. The other is eaten through with deep, unyielding rust."
"Magnificent... Magnificent!"
The entity suddenly collapsed to its knees, her head snapping back to stare blindly at the sky. A blank, empty, yet utterly joyful smile stretched across her face. Then, with a series of violent, spastic jerks, her fingers clawed into her own flesh. She began tearing and scratching at her face, ripping deep grooves into her cheeks as tears rushed down to mix with the welling blood.
Inches away, Veythor’s lips curved into a faint, mocking mirror of her smile.
A satisfying answer... he thought, his mind whirring beneath his calm exterior. But what now? Does she free me, or does she end me? And what does an entity like this gain from a satisfying answer? Is all of this merely for her sick entertainment?
Deep, dangerous questions pricked at his consciousness, but outwardly, his expression remained as unreadable as a dark ocean. He was a rogue wave—seemingly peaceful on the surface, but harboring pure destruction underneath. Even as the entity continued her grotesque, self-mutilating movements, Veythor remained entirely unshaken.
Suddenly, the entity snapped upright, her self-inflicted torture halting instantly. She thrust both hands toward the sky, the blood on her face glistening under the fake sunlight.
"For centuries, I have dragged hundreds of men here! Men from different regions, different kingdoms... sages, warriors, kings! I have brought every kind of soul to this place, but not one... not one gave me a satisfying answer! They feared me. They feared death. They feared losing what little they had left."
The entity’s bloody lips twisted into a wicked smirk as she locked her gaze back onto him.
"But you? You are different. You are fearless. You didn’t fear the end, because you have nothing left to lose, do you? You are truly unremarkable, a creature with absolutely no meaning in your life. And that... that amazes me."
She began to laugh again... a wild, manic sound that echoed across the mountainside.
"For centuries, I have been shackled to this realm. But now... now I will be free! Hahaha! Free from this place, free from this fabricated world! Ah, I love it... I absolutely love this feeling!"
As the entity babbled in her ecstasy, Veythor’s gaze suddenly narrowed. Downward.
Her legs... he noted internally, tracking her lower body. They’re disappearing?
The entity’s legs, hands, and torso were actively dissolving into fine, golden sand, drifting away into the wind. Stopping her mad rambling, her remaining eye locked directly onto the young boy.
"Veythor."
It addressed him by his true name. No more ’kid.’ No more ’child.’ The mocking titles were stripped away, replaced by a chilling weight.
"As you are the soul who has broken my shackles and freed me from this purgatory, I shall grant you three rewards. For your first reward... I bestow upon you an extraordinary curse of mine."
Hearing the word curse, Veythor’s composure finally fractured. His eyes widened in sudden rage.
"What?!" he demanded, his voice slicing through the clearing.
The entity completely ignored his outburst, her dissolving face grinning wider. "Yes, a curse. From this day onward, as you walk your path, you will possess a unique ability. An ability that demands a heavy price... a blood sacrifice."
Veythor stood dumbfounded, his chest heaving as he stared at the crumbling being.
A curse? What the fuck is this lunatic talking about? A curse disguised as a reward?
Internal fury flared into an open shout. "I don’t want your damn rewards! Just throw me out of this shit world and stop wasting my time!"
The entity’s grin stretched to an impossible, unnatural width, splitting her melting face. "Whether you desire it or not, it is already yours."
Veythor clicked his tongue, a sharp, venomous tch escaping his lips. This crazy bastard... fuck this. I need to get out of here. Life is already a fucking curse, I don’t need any more of her baggage.
Slamming his heel into the dirt, Veythor spun halfway around, throwing his weight forward to sprint away from the dissolving entity. But he wasn’t fast enough. The entity unhinged her jaw, opening her mouth wide, and unleashed a volatile orb of blue light.
The projectile screamed through the air at blinding speed. Instinct overtaking thought, Veythor threw himself flat onto the grass to dodge the impact.
But the magic was alive. The blue orb tracked his sudden drop, altering its trajectory mid-air, and slammed directly into his spine.
"Fuck—!"
The word was choked out of him. For a fraction of a second, the entity vanished from his line of sight, and an eerie stillness hung over the world.
Then, the agony hit.
"AGGGGGGGHHH!"
A guttural, blood-curdling scream tore from Veythor’s throat as a violent, white-hot burning sensation flooded his veins, melting him from the inside out. His agonized shrieks echoed across the beautiful, fake valley as a blinding white light expanded, rapidly consuming the trees, the sky, and the mountains. Then, the light snapped shut—leaving nothing but pure, suffocating darkness. A void between the fake world and the brutal reality waiting for him.