A Tiny Shard of Darkness (2)
Let's think about this. Erebos had split in half the scale under his chin—the scale I'd lent him—creating a mana explosion, then slipped through the gap that blast made to escape. My body is tough enough that it doesn't even flinch from ordinary impacts, yet he'd managed to cause an explosion painful enough to hurt me. If it was that bad for me... what must it have been like for Erebos, who set it off right under his own chin? For the world's toughest being to feel that kind of pain from his own self-destruct... I doubt he came out unscathed. But still...
"Tch, tch. To end up in this sorry state..."
I clicked my tongue at the tiny shard of darkness dangling from the tip of the fishing hook I'd made from shadows. It couldn't even speak or think—just the faintest twitches. Was this pathetic thing really worth all that desperate fleeing? I felt only pity. If you're gonna blow your own scale in a "if I can't have it, no one can!" tantrum and run off, at least stay in decent shape! What the hell is this? It's too pitiful now!!
I sighed at the fragment wriggling helplessly, too weak to even shake off the hook. Still, I couldn't just leave it like this. I slowly infused mana into the speechless little shard, and it began greedily absorbing it, gradually growing larger.
That took care of the immediate crisis, at least. Hmm. Should I peek into its memories first? I'm dying to know what happened to Erebos in the meantime. How the heck did he end up like this? Not sure if a tiny fragment like this even has memories left... but hey, no harm in checking.
A quick scan of its memories turned up only scraps worth noting.
It started with the shock of that powerful self-explosion from splitting my scale, followed by the backlash from an emergency teleport that made even Erebos's body start unraveling. His essence—the eternal darkness—shattered into countless pieces, and those fragments went berserk, rampaging on instinct.
Most scattered and fled, while others devoured each other in a brutal free-for-all. After some time, only three remained: two large chunks clutching the split silver scale, and one tiny, lonely shard. Even amid the chaos of consumption, the others avoided this one. The core of Erebos's being, his true essence. The very shard I was reading now, reduced to this faint darkness.
The others must have sensed it instinctively. Devouring this fragment would mean inheriting the name "Erebos." And with that... they'd draw my pursuit. So they abandoned it and fled elsewhere. The little shard was left alone in the deep, empty earth, silent for a very long time. Until my shadow-forged hook tracked Erebos's presence and reeled it in.
What to do with this kid? Punish it in this shrunken state, and it might just vanish entirely. Bad as he's been... I don't want him gone. I was just gonna make him work nonstop in the underworld until the world's end—no days off, no rotations like the others. But like this? Useless.
Hmm... I gazed at the tiny wriggling fragment—once Erebos—on my palm. Even in this state, after what he did, erasure feels wrong. Letting him fade without proper atonement is like letting him escape. Yeah, something like that. Punishment can wait until I gather all the pieces. That makes sense.
But how do I even collect them? Scattered everywhere, countless shards... If it'd just been one or two big ones, I could've hunted them down, beaten sense into them, and fused them back. But this? Later for that. Focus on this little one first, before it dissipates. Better seal it in a gem.
I placed the fragment on my hand and conjured a gem around it—the hardest kind. Diamond. Shaped like the classic round brilliant cut, circular from above. I encased the darkness within, infused it with mana for unbreakable durability. Now it was physically indestructible.
Added features: let it absorb the fragment on contact to regain strength. Allow the sealed shard to grow by devouring others. Pull in external mana or dark energy. Absorb it without leaking out... Wait, no—prep an emergency release valve. One that can't be opened from inside, only from without. So when Erebos's fragments reunite and his ego returns... he stays trapped until I say otherwise.
And crucially, tracking embedded in case it's lost. The finished diamond was pitch-black—maybe warped by mana, or the darkness inside. Black diamond, huh? Kinda cool. I pinched it between thumb and forefinger, tilting it in the sunlight. The shard inside sat placidly; seal looked solid. I tested by pushing in mana—it got sucked in, absorbed by the fragment, unable to escape.
Perfect. Inflow controlled, outflow locked tight. A prison where I can extract power at will, but it can't break free. No risk of dissipation now. Someday, when this idiot's shards reunite... then the real punishment. The kind that leaves him sobbing, begging never to try it again.
But for some reason, after that day, strange things began happening in the world.
Creatures—no different from Earth's animals, aside from the slimes crawling on the ground—started mutating. Stronger, fiercer, wilder. Bigger sizes or new organs were commonplace; some wild boars spewed fire from their bodies, wolves crackled with lightning in claws and fangs. Even timid rabbits sprouted sharp horns on their heads, headbutting holes in small trees.
Not all turned savage, of course. Horned horses still grazed peacefully, leaping through the air or cloaking themselves in mist. But the most concerning changes were in the dinosaurs that failed to become true dragons.
Wyverns, drakes, sea serpents, and the like—lesser dragons. More advanced than dinosaurs, they'd lived quietly with their sturdy bodies. But from that day, they grew aggressive too, harnessing mana: wyverns breathing fire, drakes upheaving earth, sea serpents whipping up whirlpools. Terrifying evolutions.
Hmm... Gotta deal with these somehow. Humans are still too weak; one wyvern crashing a city would wipe it out. Time for basic defenses. Later, tell the Life Temple kids to erect barriers around human villages. Block the feral beasts too.
Oh, and this wasn't limited to beasts. Among humans, some instinctively wielded mana: conjuring fire from hands, shooting arrows of light, levitating objects with telekinesis. New powers. People feared, recoiled, rejected them—as expected.
Those gifted hid their abilities or banded together, experimenting to master them. And so, this world gained its first monsters and mages.