Chapter 160: A Game of Time
In the aftermath of the battle, Ela's magic turned the cavern to dust, wiping away the last vestiges of Shurahat's presence. But the unease in Rhodes and Serie's hearts remained.
"He's fast," she said, her voice cold as she watched the last traces of him disappear. "If he really can see the future, and if he's decided to hide, it will be very difficult for us to find him."
"It's not our style to just sit and wait, Serie," he said, and sheathed Org. "If they dared to show their faces, to come after you, then it means they think they have a chance. We've been quiet for too long, so long that they've forgotten to be afraid."
She looked at him, and in that moment, a thousand years of unspoken understanding passed between them. She nodded. "Then we'll have to remind them."
And so, after a thousand years, the legendary elven Saint, Serie, once again stepped into the mortal world.
The news was a boulder dropped into a still lake, sending ripples throughout the entire continent. When she appeared in the Elven Kingdom, the entire nation was in an uproar. Serie, the great saint who had brought an end to the Age of Myth, a being of the same renown as the legendary warrior-monk, Kraft, had returned. Her very presence was a source of great comfort and stability for the elven race.
Rhodes, by contrast, kept a low profile. He wore an inconspicuous cloak, its wide hood pulled low over his face. If any of the elves here were to recognize him, it would be a problem. And she, in their unspoken agreement, did not introduce him as anything more than a guard she had picked up on her travels. The name 'Rhodes, the god-slayer' was too shocking, too sensitive. Their goal was to find the demons, not to scare them into hiding. If they knew he was still alive, they would just go even deeper underground.
And so, they began their long, fruitless search.
It was as if the demons had simply vanished overnight. The few they did manage to find were just young, recently-born demons, with no useful information. The more powerful ones, the ones who had been attacking the elven villages... it was as if they had never existed.
"They're in hiding," she said, her voice filled with a rare frustration as she stood on a barren wasteland, looking up at the gray sky. "And they're hiding well."
"It was a mistake not to kill him when we had the chance," he said, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against each other. "He must have seen what we were doing and had them all go to ground. He's waiting."
He could feel it, an invisible shadow that hung over them both, its source hidden in the darkness.
Shurahat's strategy was a simple and effective one: to pit an endless amount of time against a finite human lifespan. And in such a situation, even his own foresight was useless. It was not an innate ability, like Shurahat's, but a power that came from Org, a passive, almost prophetic, thing. He couldn't use it to track them.
If it had been anyone else, this waiting game might have worked. But he... he was not anyone else.
The demon's plan was doomed to fail.
On their journey, they passed through the human kingdom that Norne had founded. The once-single-city-nation had now grown into a vast empire. The capital, which had once been little more than a town, was now a grand and magnificent city. And in its central square, a statue of their first king, Norne, now stood, his great deeds inscribed on its base, including, of course, the legendary tale of his adventures with the elven Saint, Serie, and the god-slayer, Rhodes.
To see their shared dream, their ideal nation, now thriving... it was a small, but welcome, comfort.
"He's done well," he said, his voice so soft that only she could hear it.
"Yes," she said with a soft "Mm," a hint of a smile in her eyes.
They did not announce their presence, but just passed through, two ordinary travelers in a bustling city.
Time flowed on. A year, two, five, ten.
Like two ghosts, they wandered the continent. And though evil fled before her, their true target remained hidden in the shadows. And he could feel it, the limits of this new body, a slow, but steady, decline.
She had noticed it too. Or rather, she had been keeping a close watch on his remaining time.
"Let's go back," she said one day, her voice a little heavy.
His own movements stilled. "There's no point, is there?" she said, her voice a soft, but firm, sound. "He's just playing a game of time with us. Even if we keep searching, for another twenty, fifty years, we'll only ever find his pawns, not the king. Your reincarnation... it's the most important thing. As long as you're still alive..." she trailed off, but her meaning was clear. As long as he was still alive, as long as he could still be reborn, the demon was destined to lose this game.
He looked at her, and after a long moment, he sighed. He was now almost certain. That demon... it was Shurahat. Only he could be so cunning, so cautious.
"Alright," he said with a nod. "Let's go back."
They returned to their secluded hut in the forest, as if from a long and fruitless journey.
The forest was the same. Ela had grown into a capable mage in her own right and was overjoyed to see them.
And in the years that followed, he continued to study his magic, to prepare for his next reincarnation, and she would occasionally teach a few of the more talented individuals from the outside, though she never took another apprentice. They waited, gathering their strength, for the enemy who was hiding in the shadows of time to show his fangs, for the next turn of the wheel, for the birth of new, and familiar, faces.
He leaned back in his rocking chair and looked out at the green of the forest. What will the world be like, he wondered, when I next awaken?
And time... it flowed on, silent and ceaseless.
~~~
Get early access to 20+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
~~~
Every 150 Power Stones = 1 extra chapter