Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 19: Those Who Bring Demise in the Wake of Their Despair(Part 2)

“Power is the fine dividing line between life and death. Do not fear it, Cyra,” Valor gently speaks.

Those words of the god ringing through her. Do not fear power, embrace it. Such can be the dividing factor between life and death. So long as one breathes, they will survive. However, if one has power, refusing to use it can very well bring about one’s destruction.

“But...whenever I use it...I...” she looks away in doubt.

Valor placing a hand upon her shoulder, the maiden looking towards him. Seeing those eyes of her old friend, such bringing her some ease. Always there to try and guide her when she needs it. An invaluable one he is to have around.

“I know...you feel like you are losing a bit more of yourself. Though, always remember. Power without reason is pointless. Were those not your words?”

“Right...those were my words...” her eyes slightly widening.

Indeed those have been her words. Without reason, then there is no point in having power. After all, one must have a reason in order to use it. No matter how trivial it may be, so long as it has meaning.

“Then do not hesitate, fear will only hasten your demise,” he faintly smiles at her.

Cyra hanging her head low, feeling the malevolence trying to consume her. The Tyrant looking on, seeing darkness grasping the maiden. The devil closely looking on, witnessing the halfbreed concentrating it. Her right arm reacting from the overflow of malevolence. Alastor feeling his own darkness flowing into her.

“The state of pride huh...keep pushing...” he thinks in unease.

The malevolence tearing away at the maidens arm, Cyra slowly motions it towards the blade of her father. The halfbreed feeling a pulse radiating deep within her. From the depths of her mind, the maiden floating in an endless darkness. Malevolence raging all around her. Her eyes slowly opening, seeing demonic creatures bearing their fangs. Cyra slowly looking around her, seeing an unknown force binding her in place.

The maiden looking on, seeing the fangs growing closer and closer. From within it, she can see the sins all manifesting into such an abomination. Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Greed. Cyra looking on even closer, resting her vision towards the back, behind all of this despair, the halfbreed seeing a light. Even in the deepest of darkness, there is always a light. Cyra remembering those words from her mother, the maiden focusing in on that light. Extending her right arm forward. The fangs drawing closer and closer. The jaws of a fiend opening around her hand. Still, she continues to reach for the light, watching it shining brighter by the moment.

“These are my desires...” she speaks more confidently.

The light shining brighter, and much more intensely. The abominations loudly screeching, pulling away from her. The maiden floating up straight, facing the many fiends all around her. Her eyes stern upon all of them.

“No matter how far I fall into despair, I will never forget who I am. Now...you devils, will all serve me! That is an order!” she swings out her right hand.

Malevolence wildly spiraling around her arm, the monsters all around her slowly backing away. Feeling the crushing pressure of the maiden. Those many devils cowering in fear. The eyes of the halfbreed opening, the Tyrant looking on in surprise, seeing Cyra gripping his blade. Looking on, witnessing her arm rapidly expanding. Bearing witness to the malevolence in physical form. A massive, shadowy claw of a dragon.

The devil finding himself unable to hold the weapon still. Alastor looking into the eyes of his daughter. That look in her eyes, it is indeed the same as her mother. Those eyes of confidence, it is enough to send a chill down the Tyrant’s spine.

Cyra looking to her father with those eyes brimming in confidence, slowly removing the blade from her chest, blood gushing out of her. The maiden releasing his weapon, taking a step back. Pure white energy surrounding her. The Tyrant looking on, seeing his daughter directing her claw at him.

A halfbreed, one being that of a deity and a devil. To harness both malevolence and divinity. It is bone chilling to be honest. The Tyrant closing his eyes for a moment, the pressure exerting from her is staggering. While this does impress him, he is uncertain if it will be enough to defeat Ultima. In such a case, this will be the final test. If she cannot defeat him, then certainly there is no hope. Given her limitless potential, if she can surpass him, then certainly there will be some hope. Even more so than that, he will finally be able to leave his current existence behind. Alastor opening his eyes, calmly looking upon his daughter.

“Come Cyra, this is your last chance,” Alastor directing his blade at her.

The endless void appearing to eternally go on. The waves of emotions shrouding the surrounding area. The maiden looking on, feeling as if time itself is slowing. Cyra experiencing the exertion of energy increasing from her father. It is baffling to think he can still push on even more. He truly is deserving of the title, ‘Invincible Tyrant.’

The maiden extending her claw afar, locking onto her father ahead. The Tyrant paying attention, seeing that her entire formation changes. While she may take a much more open stance, it is difficult to tell if there are any exploitable openings. This will be a match of pure power for certain.

Cyra dashing towards her father, the Tyrant bracing himself. It is feeling as if an endless amount of malevolence is charging at him. This unnerving him a bit. Quickly shaking away those feelings, the Tyrant vertically guarding with his blade aiming at the ground.

Upon the impact, Alastor stepping a back a bit. Normally, she will pull away, but not this time. Such catching his attention, the maiden continuing her assault in more of a berserk state. The Tyrant continuously blocking her assault, but yet she forces onward, each assault becoming heavier by the second.

“The state of pride...I see now, you are using the rest of the sins to amplify your own power...” he uneasily thinks.

The Tyrant pulling away to his side, Cyra moving past him. Seeing an opening, the Tyrant immediately raising his blade. As he does this, the demon is finding something is strange, usually she will immediately react.

Alastor can only wonder if this is a ruse to have him let down his guard. Truly a frightening foe she is, it is no wonder her enemies constantly takes caution towards her. The Tyrant dashing away, and the maiden catching her footing, immediately turning towards her father.

“I see now, that power, you were already in the phases of awakening to this...” Alastor speaks, keeping a sharp eye on her.

The halfbreed placing her hand upon her waist, her eyes are calm upon her father. Now that she thinks about it, she can only wonder. That mysterious power that comes to her aid. Cyra raising her claw to her view, distantly looking upon it.

“It is amazing how quickly you adapted to this. Perhaps all you needed was an extra push,” he calmly speaks.

“More like a shove off a cliff,” she sarcastically comments.

That comment making the Tyrant chuckle. Indeed it is appearing as such. For a moment, Cyra seeing that man she admires ever so long ago. The maiden faintly smiling, extending her claw once again.

The Tyrant looking on, even with the best of his abilities, this is one battle he may not be able to fully see. The devil beginning to see why the gods fear someone such as herself. A hybrid that can harness both divinity and malevolence. The maiden taking a step forward, vanishing from the area within that instant. Alastor feeling her energy all around him. It is difficult to tell where she will be, the Tyrant relying on his instincts.

Alastor turning to his left, seeing her in a lower assault stance. Her claw moving closer and closer towards him. The devil blocking the assault with a vertical stance towards the ground in that instant. An intense shockwave ripping through the endless void.

“The longer she fights...the more powerful she becomes. Before it was amazing, this time it is indescribable...” his eyes trembling a bit.

“Not bad! But not good enough!” he renders the palm of his hand into her chest, a powerful burst of energy striking at her.

“Gyah...!”

Cyra skidding back upon her feet, quickly shaking off the impact of the assault. The maiden looking ahead, seeing her father raising his blade. There is no hesitation within his eyes. The devil striking down at her, the halfbreed meeting his action in kind. Her claw colliding into his blade once again.

Alastor looking on, seeing her extending her off hand. The eyes of the Tyrant slightly widening, seeing Lævateinn reacting to her call. The weapon lifting off of the ground, hastily flying towards the maiden. Cyra taking hold of the weapon, motioning the scythe towards his head.

Alastor releasing his blade, falling to the ground. Looking on, the scythe narrowly missing him. Cyra striking down at him with her blade in an instant. Without any moment to rest, Alastor dashing away, her blade striking the ground, rendering the platform ahead of her asunder.

Cyra looking on, witnessing her father extending his hand in her direction. The maiden feeling his weapon resisting her hold, releasing it as a result. The weapon flying towards him, the Tyrant extending his hand afar, catching it by the hilt.

“She’s learning, and fast,” he uneasily thinks.

“What is the matter? Getting cold feet?” she turns to her side, looking at her father.

That is seeming about right, in all of his years, there has ever only been one that can give him so much trouble. The more he looks at her, the more she continues to remind him of her mother. Proudness he is feeling from all of this.

“Heh, perhaps so,” he faintly smiles.

Alastor looking on, seeing a shadowy clone of herself appearing from behind her. Such taking him by some alarm. The Tyrant watching the doppelgänger walking to her side, extending their claw towards him. Amplifying her power by using the sins is one thing, but also calling upon their power as her own is quite frightening really.

“Our eternal conflict ends here, father,” she calmly speaks.

“Indeed,” he agrees.

Cyra and her double moving with illusions in their steps. Appearing before him in a lower assault stance is the doppelgänger. The Tyrant looking on, seeing the shadowy claw approaching him. Though, the demon also knowing his daughter is near.

A burst of negative energy exerting from his body. The intensity of such stopping the doppelgänger, revealing Cyra from above as well. The maiden continuing to descend upon him. The Tyrant slightly moving away, avoiding the impact as she lands in front of him.

Both Cyra and her double continuing their assaults. Alastor continuing to evade, his movements becoming faster and faster by the second. The devil analyzing for an opening. Each and every possibility. Looking on, the Tyrant beginning to see a golden opportunity.

Alastor slightly turning his head, her claw passing his head. The Tyrant slipping behind her. Cyra looking on, seeing Alastor standing to his side, stabbing through the doppelgänger. The double fading into the darkness.

Still having enough time, the devil ducking, evading the massive scythe. The weapon narrowly passing his head. Alastor moving towards her, bypassing her defenses, rendering his elbow into the stomach of the halfbreed.

“Tch...!”

The maiden resisting the assault, her scythe vanishing into the darkness. A bit reckless she thinks, to allow her enemy to gain such an opening. Perhaps not surprising really, he is her father after all.

“You leave yourself too open Cyra!”

Immediately following up, the Tyrant rendering his foot into her rib, causing her to fly across the field. Cyra shaking off the impact, flipping onto her feet. The maiden touching down on the ground, slowly skidding back. Alastor looking on, seeing the malevolence thickening around her, burning more into a pure white energy.

The devil beginning to wonder if there is any limitation to her energy. She is much different now. It is appearing that there is no end, that she can continuously fight. What a frightening opponent indeed, one who does not tire from battle. At least not easily either way. Both charging at the other once again. Clashing throughout the area with such great intensity, ripping apart the surrounding place. Shockwaves tearing through the endless void. The Tyrant motioning his blade towards her head. The maiden immediately rendering her knee into his stomach.

“Tch...!”

The Tyrant resisting the assault. Cyra directing her revolver at him, immediately firing a burst of negative energy at her father. The attack violently exploding in a wave of chaos upon contact with his chest.

“Gyah...!”


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