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Chapter 11 - Karnithesis;Eidolon

Flashback — Approximately Four Centuries Ago | City of Briarhelm

The city of Briarhelm was withering.

A devastating drought and merciless famine had gripped the land. For months, not a single drop of rain had fallen. The rivers were bone-dry, the wells barren, and the fields—once lush with harvest—lay cracked and lifeless under the scorching sun. Children perished of malnutrition, thirst, and sickness. The air reeked of despair.

It was time to let go.

The city governors, overwhelmed and powerless, convened one final time. A conference was called in the heart of the city, and the people of Briarhelm gathered with hollow eyes and aching bellies.

Among them stood Spiegel Cross, a tall, dignified man known for his wisdom and oratory. When Spiegel spoke, the city listened. His voice carried the weight of their history, and often, the faint shimmer of hope.

He stepped forward, facing the masses.

"Briar citizens," he began, his voice somber but resolute, "it would be cruel of us as governors to ask you to remain here. We have failed to save our home. The earth is silent, the heavens unkind.

We give you wings—go. Seek shelter in the neighboring towns and cities. Live, not as exiles, but as Briars who carry the spirit of this place within them.

We—your governors—will stay. This land raised us, and it will bury us. But do not let this be the fall of Briarhelm. Someday, when the winds change and the earth calls, return home. Rebuild. But for now... survive."

Silence gripped the crowd. Then murmurs. Whispers. Tears. The people understood—Briarhelm was dying.

Then, through the murmurs, a voice rang out. Calm. Commanding.

"I can make all of this go away.I can help you."

GASPS.

Heads turned. A man emerged from the crowd—old, silver-haired, regal. His cane bore the silver carving of a lion's head. His robes were unlike any known fashion, his aura unplaceable. And yet, somehow, ancient.

"Who is he?"

"I've never seen him before."

"Is he one of the governors?"

The whispers rippled.

He approached the platform on which Spiegel was standing.

Spiegel narrowed his eyes. "And how exactly do you intend to help us? The rivers have dried up. The wells, empty. There's been no rain for half a year. What miracle could you possibly offer us?"

The old man smiled gently. His eyes glowed with something—power.

"My name is Pride," he said, with no trace of shame.

"I am a demon from the world you so fear—Hell."

GASPS tore through the crowd again. Women clutched their children. Men stepped back, some reaching for hidden daggers.

But Pride simply stood there, unfazed, cane in hand. His gaze scanned the crowd, and he smiled as though amused by their panic.

"I am not here to harm you. Quite the opposite...I have the power to help disadvantaged nations and right now you are a disadvantaged people." His eyes lit up.

He tapped his cane twice against the cracked earth.

Tap. Tap.

Suddenly, from the scorched ground before him, a tiny green shoot sprouted. Then it grew—rapidly—twisting skyward into a tall stalk of corn, heavy with golden kernels, ripe for harvest.

The crowd erupted. Dozens lunged for the miracle crop. Screams broke out as people fought over the food like beasts. Spiegel could only watch—frozen, horrified.

"People," Pride called out with satisfaction, "I can give you more.

I can summon rain, restore your fields, heal your sick...

On one condition—I become your God.

Your faith will sustain me.Your devotion shall nourish my presence.In exchange,I will bring forth rain,restore your rivers and breathe life back into your fields."

He grinned, proud and wicked.

A hush fell once more. The desperation of hunger and hope warred silently in every heart.

Then, from the top of his lungs, Spiegel cried out:

"He lies!"

The people's gaze shifted.

"He's lying to you," Spiegel continued, his voice cracking, his knees buckling. "He's responsible for this crisis. I don't know how, but I see the truth in him—he's evil!"

Tears ran down Spiegel's face. He fell to his knees, broken and powerless.He could feel his people losing faith in him.

But Pride remained still.

Then a man shoved forward, clutching a frail child in his arms. Her lips were blue, her eyes glassy.

"Please," the man begged, collapsing before Pride, "my daughter... she needs water. Just a sip. Please, I beg you."

Pride smiled and extended his hand.

From the air, a single large drop of water formed—clear, glowing, divine. It hovered above the girl's lips and slowly descended, entering her mouth like mercy itself.

The girl gasped, then coughed. Her color returned faintly.

"D-Dad…" she whispered.

"It'll be okay."

The man broke into tears and embraced her.

And the crowd cheered.

"We're saved!"

"He's a miracle!"

"Pride is our savior!"

And thus, Pride ruled. Briarhelm fell not to famine, but to submission. The governors now answered to him. His name became law. And slowly, the people forgot the sky had ever been empty, or that the land had once been theirs.

Only Spiegel Cross remembered.

He left the city that same night, walking the empty plains alone.

"The demon lies," he whispered into the wind.

"He's evil. He'll bring humanity to its knees."

But no one heard him.

Briarhelm was no longer a city. It had become a throne.

"West.I must head west."the words rang endlessly in his head.He could see the path clearly before him,it was highlighted by a green only he could see.A Karnitheric ability he couldn't fathom.He didn't even know what had awakened in him,only he should tread west.

Water.

He drank from a clear pool he had reached under the moonlight when suddenly the waterfall nearby halted.

A course voice called out,"Spiegel Cross.Come inside if you want to know more about that strange power of yours."

The path was green so he went.

Behind the waterfall was a village unlike any he had seen before.The houses were more modern and the furniture more refined-something strange is happening here.

He met with three men about his age and a many who appeared younger but was actually older than them-Lucien Hollis-known as Castiel Horn in the current day.

"I've been expecting you, Cross."Lucien said as he handed him tea and bread.

Cross could see truth in Lucien's words.

"My name is Lucien Hollis."

"Why do you lie about your name?"

"You are here to learn about this power that has infested your body."Lucien brushed him off,"We'll start by explaining to you what it is and its types and how to hone it to perfection." For now,eat up and get some rest.

-Morning

The sun was up,so we're the men- Lucien and Spiegel.

Out in the flower garden, Lucien explained Karnithesis.

"Karnithesis — a power that resides within all humans. It lays dormant, hidden deep within the soul. But there are ways to awaken. Awakening Karnithesis also boosts one's physical prowess, it wasn't miracle you walked from Briar and to Velarion in under a day.

First — through deep meditation, one may discover the harmony between body and soul. When this balance is achieved, Karnithesis will surge through you and take a form that reflects your core ideals. You are an earnest and principled man. That's why your power reveals truth—unwavering and absolute. It mirrors your integrity.

Second — through an overwhelming surge of emotion. Anger. Despair. Grief. These volatile states can force the Karnithesis to awaken violently. But it is dangerous. One can lose control… or shatter entirely—mind, body, and soul.

Third — through a pact with a demon. I've seen people trade their very souls for strength. But no matter how pure the Karnitheric ability may seem, if its source is demonic, it will always bring chaos and despair in its wake.

Those who awaken Karnithesis are known as Eidolons.

In rare instances, some are born with Karnitheric abilities. These prodigies become masters before they even reach adolescence.

And now… Briarhelm is shifting. It will soon become a breeding ground for sinister Eidolons.

A war is coming.

And I fear… you will not survive it if you choose to fight.

We must continue to hone your skills and knowledge.

Karnithetic abilities evolve as their wielder's core beliefs evolve.

But if those beliefs waver—if doubt corrodes the foundation of your soul—

the power will turn inward...

and shatter the very vessel that contains it.

You.

There are ten known types of Eidolons.

Aethers manipulate spirit and thought.

Umbra take control of shadow and fear.

Pyra are fueled by emotion—burning brighter with each heartbeat.

Gravis command matter, force, and weight itself.

Chronos twist time and tamper with memory.

Vita excel in healing, renewal, and growth.

Tenebris wield death and decay with their words... just like you.

Lux shape light and bend revelation to their will.

Chimera are shapeshifters—masters of adaptation and disguise.

And lastly, the most dangerous of them all—

The Occultum.

Their powers defy understanding, breaking the rules of reality.

They don't fit within the nine. They are... something else entirely...

Once your training is complete, I want you to oversee the Libraries of Velarion.

Your understanding of truth — pure, unwavering truth — will be our greatest asset. The next generation must learn what Karnithesis truly is, how to wield it with discipline, and how to stand against the evil shadows creeping across our world."

You won't just be a fighter… you'll be the flame that lights the path for those who come after.

Present DayVelmont

Whip. Whip.

Castiel jolted awake, every nerve screaming. Blood trickled from fresh wounds, dripping to the cold stone floor below him. A large, muscle-bound man stood over him, whip in hand. His face was expressionless, but his voice was like gravel grinding metal.

"Finally awake, huh?"

Castiel gritted his teeth.

"Get me in touch with your boss," he growled.

Few minutes passed—before the doors creaked open and in walked Luke Morel, flanked by his fellow city elites. Their expensive coats and smug expressions reeked of arrogance.

Castiel lifted his head, blood still trailing from his lip.

"Children are not slaves," he spat,in fury "I'm here to ask you—no, demand—you free them."

For a moment, silence.

Then, laughter.

A wave of it, mocking, cruel, as though Castiel were the punchline to some cosmic joke.

"You are in no position to make demands," Morel sneered as he stepped forward, the living snake on his arm hissing in anticipation. Its scaled tail pulsed against his skin, etched like a curse.

He leaned down, lips nearly brushing Castiel's ear.

"Where is the Durnium you stole from us?" he whispered, venom in every syllable.

Castiel met his eyes, defiant despite the blood and bruises. His voice was hoarse, but unshaken.

"Free the children. I will not repeat myself."

A faint glow flickered in his eyes.

Morel's expression darkened.

Without a word, he grabbed a branding iron from a nearby brazier. Its tip glowed red-hot, shaped like the crest of Velmont's elites.

Sizzle.

Castiel screamed as the iron pressed against his chest, the stench of burnt flesh filling the air.

The whipping resumed. Blows rained down until Castiel's voice gave out, his body slumped, breath shallow. Blood pooled beneath him, silent and damning.

Then—

"Sir," a voice called from among the soldiers, tense but steady. "We believe we've located the place he came from. One of our men has infiltrated the village behind the waterfall." it was Anderson.

Morel paused.

The room stilled.

The grin that spread across Morel's face was not one of amusement—but hunger.

"Good," he said coldly. "Let's tear down their sanctuary stone by stone. And if he lives through this..."

He looked down at Castiel.

"...he'll watch it burn."

Velarion - A few minutes after Colt's invasion

Colt had successfully infiltrated Velarion grounds.He managed to steal a disguise from a laundry line.It hung lose around his frame -simple, unassuming.Just like the people here.

Children laughed in the distance.

This place was too serene,too calm.Behind the massive waterfall lay a world untouched by fear or greed,where laughter rang out like bbells and people looked one another in the eye without suspicion.

He thought he hated it...But that was him being in denial.

The truth, uncomfortable and aching, was this: he craved it. A place where no one barked orders. Where children weren't born into chains. Where people simply… lived.

He saw the girl,Zera, playing with other children in the distance.She looked happy.

Colt's loyalty was wavering-for the first in years.

Not because of fear,but because this village had something Velmont had long abandoned and forgotten:hope.

And maybe...just maybe...he didn't want to help burn that down.

His eyes teared,then before he knew it.The children had swarmed around him.They were not afraid.They smiled and laughed, pulling at his sleeve.

"He won't harm you."a warm voice resounded -no doubt it was Zera."I can tell."

Colt's eyes shimmered.

For the first time in a long, long while…

he didn't feel like a monster.

Present time- Velmont

Luke Morel had said his piece. The laughter had died down.

But Castiel understood.

He had seen it in a vision: Velarion in flames, children screaming, innocence devoured by greed and evil.

"I see now…"

Castiel muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper.

"Discussions are off the table."

He lifted his head slowly.

And then—the change.

His wounds began sealing themselves, muscle and flesh weaving back together, the bleeding stopping as if time itself had rewound just for him. A faint light pulsed from beneath his skin—not divine, but ancient.

The soldiers stepped back.

Swords were drawn. Commands were shouted.

"Hold him down—!"

But it was already too late.

In an instant, steel screamed through the air.

Morel's guards—their heads fell cleanly from their shoulders, one after another, blood arcing in graceful sprays across the stone floor.

Castiel hadn't moved.

His three swords hovered behind him—levitating, glowing with eerie, spectral energy. They whirled through the air like hunting spirits, slicing down every man that dared point a weapon his way.

"I was right to bring you along." He spoke to his swords as if they were alive.

Luke Morel, Sullivan Larkwood, Tabbarrok Vellini, Jasper Darnell, Lysandra Kaldir,Victor Arkham,Azura Vennix,Korvus Brey,Aurelia Dravos,Remus Thrall, Gaius Volker,and Felix Halloway- all stood frozen. A dozen soldiers had fell before them.

"I see now..."Castiel snapped,he was in a mad frenzy,"If this this city wants war...I'll give it justice!".He let out a breathless, twisted grin.

And in that moment -The twelve rulers,the consortium of Velmont -they all saw it.

His Aura.His hunger.His power.- overwhelming...

Just like Greed's.

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