Realm Lord
Chapter 67: The Great Escape

Chapter 67: The Great Escape

They were racing against death... and death was winning. The invisible force carved through the earth behind them with relentless determination, gaining ground with each passing second. Arthur was barely able to stay conscious, caught between two impossible torments—the fear of the impending doom chasing him and the unimaginable pain of lightning coursing through his rain-covered body.

The metallic taste of blood filled his senses as he bit the inside of his cheek, a minor pain lost in the symphony of agony that had become his existence.

Aziel glanced backward for one second, his lightning-filled eyes widening at what he saw. He immediately spun his head back forward, not wanting to waste even a millisecond of concentration on anything but escape.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit!" Aziel’s voice sounded nervous, higher-pitched than usual, betraying a fear that Arthur had rarely heard from his normally confident companion. But Arthur couldn’t concentrate on his words, too busy channeling every ounce of his remaining strength into simply not dying.

The split ground was only feet from them now, a gaping wound in the earth that raced forward like a predator closing in for the kill. Arthur could feel the disturbance in the air behind them, a wrongness that made his dark sense scream warnings he had no way to heed. It looked like at any moment they would be cleanly cleaved in two by this invisible force sent out by the reaper, their bodies falling into separate halves on either side of the newly formed chasm.

Arthur closed his eyes, preparing for impact, for the end that seemed inevitable. ’So close...’ The thought drifted through his mind, a mixture of regret and resignation. They had almost made it, had almost escaped, but "almost" counted for nothing in the face of death.

But just as Arthur expected to feel his body being split apart, instead, he felt a completely different pain—the same agony he was already enduring but... way more intense, as if someone had dialed his suffering up to impossible levels.

Arthur’s eyes shot open as he desperately screamed in pain, a raw, primal sound torn from the depths of his being. Veins bulged out along his neck, arms, and forehead, standing in stark relief against his pale skin. Blood leaked from his nose, warm and metallic, tracing crimson paths down his face before being whipped away by the wind of their passage.

But they were going faster. Much faster.

Aziel had summoned even more power from somewhere deep within, channeling more lightning through his body than before. The air around them ionized completely, creating a tunnel of plasma that propelled them forward at speeds that shouldn’t have been possible. the endless field of roses blurred into indistinct streaks of color as they tore through the night.

Slowly but surely, they left the invisible world-cutting force behind. The destructive wave continued its relentless advance, but its pace could not match their desperate flight. It, as well as the distant figure of the Reaper, gradually faded into the distance behind them, becoming smaller with each heartbeat until they were nothing more than dark smudges on the horizon.

Arthur would have been happy to see them escaping, would have felt relief or even triumph at their narrow survival, but he couldn’t even think straight now. The pain was horrible, consuming every corner of his consciousness with white-hot agony. It felt like his brain was melting inside his skull, neurons firing randomly as electricity coursed through them. His chest felt tight, as if his heart might burst from the strain of beating against the current flowing through his body.

If it weren’t for his enhanced Chosen body, as well as his desperate use of the darkness around them, his skin would have long since melted off his frame. The darkness wrapped around him like a second skin, absorbing some of the electrical damage, but even it struggled against the raw power emanating from Aziel’s transformed state.

But against all odds, he stayed conscious. More importantly, he stayed alive. And soon after leaving the Reaper and the field of bloomed roses long in the distance, Aziel came to yet another one of his famous crashing stops.

Arthur went flying, per usual, into a bed of dead roses. He tumbled head over heels, his body bouncing and rolling across the thorny ground until finally, mercifully, he came to rest on his back. Above him stretched a vast expanse of stars—countless pinpricks of light against the backdrop of infinite darkness.

’...looks like we escaped the storm,’ he thought distantly, noticing the absence of clouds and rain for the first time. The night sky was clear and beautiful, stars shining with cold brilliance above him.

Arthur had no more strength left in him. The adrenaline that had kept him going was fading rapidly, leaving behind only the crushing weight of exhaustion and pain. His numerous wounds throbbed in time with his heartbeat, a chorus of suffering that demanded attention he could no longer give. Finally, at long last, Arthur stopped fighting and let his consciousness drift away into blessed darkness.

Then, through the fog of sleep, he heard a voice calling to him.

"Arthur." The sound fell on deaf ears, unable to penetrate the depths of his unconsciousness.

"Arthur..." Louder now, more insistent, tugging at the edges of his awareness.

"ARTHUR!" The shout finally broke through, piercing the veil of darkness that had enveloped him.

Arthur sprung upwards from his sleep, muscles tensing painfully as he looked around, expecting danger. His mind instinctively preparing to summon his sword. But it seemed to be morning now and all he saw was the oh-so-familiar field of roses and Aziel standing a short distance away, looking at something intently.

The lightning was gone from his friend’s form now, his hair returned to its normal blue shade, though it stood up in wild disarray. but he appeared otherwise unharmed by his extraordinary transformation.

Aziel looked back at Arthur and smiled, a genuine expression of wonder lighting up his face. "Get up. You’re gonna want to see this."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in confusion and began to try and raise himself to his feet. ’Agh, what the hell,’ he thought as his body rudely reminded him of his tapestry of injuries. Every cut, bruise, and burn announced its presence with fresh waves of pain. The wound on his thigh had finally stopped bleeding but felt hot and tight.

Arthur fought through gritted teeth to get to his feet, swaying slightly as he found his balance. With a sigh of relief at having managed the seemingly impossible task of standing, he focused his attention on what Aziel was looking at.

What he saw left him speechless.

After so long in this dreaded field, after weeks of trudging through roses that seemed to stretch to infinity in every direction, he had begun to think it was impossible—that there was no escape.

But here, in front of their very eyes, the rose field came to an abrupt end.

"W-we made it,"