The Strongest Transcendent In History Is The Strongest
Chapter 37: The Hour That Never Was
As I carefully step out into an awe-inspiring and surreal realm, I find myself on a floating stone island, a vast mass of rock that precariously hovers in an ocean filled with collapsing constellations. The environment around me is so mesmerizing that it feels like I've been transported into a vivid dream or a painting brought to life, both beautiful and disturbing in equal measure. Above me, the sky roils and churns like a turbulent sea tainted with oil, casting a kaleidoscope of colors that shimmer and shift with unnerving fluidity. Galaxies twist and spiral in a dizzying cosmic dance, as if they are caught in an impossible loop, moving backward through the fabric of time and space itself. Every cautious step I take on this ethereal and surreal landscape sends ripples through the very fabric of reality, making the ground feel both solid and ephemeral, as if it were disintegrating and reforming beneath my feet.
Scattered throughout this chaotic expanse, other floating islands drift aimlessly, seemingly positioned in random formations that defy any sense of logic or comprehension. Some of these islands are positioned upside down, while others tilt at impossible angles, creating a bizarre tapestry of rock and gravity that challenges my understanding of the universe. As I begin to navigate this otherworldly terrain, I tentatively set my foot down upon a bridge made of shimmering black crystal, and I watch in awe as it materializes instantly beneath my weight, a breathtaking and spine-tingling phenomenon that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. Below me lies an endless abyss, a dark void that yawns wide, threatening to engulf everything in its depths. Above, the stars flicker into existence only to extinguish themselves in a relentless cycle of birth and demise, a poignant reminder of the transient nature of all things.
Amidst the cosmic ballet of creation and destruction, tendrils of silver lightning lazily snake through the atmosphere, their movements graceful and almost dreamlike, as if these luminous strands were languidly lost in a trance of their own. The air itself buzzes with an electric anticipation, as if charged by an unseen force, creating an atmosphere thick with a palpable energy that feels almost sentient, as if it were alive and aware of my presence.
And then, amidst this tumultuous backdrop, I catch sight of her. At the far end of the narrow path I traverse stands a solitary figure, commanding and unyielding, her silhouette a stark contrast against the chaos of the cosmos.
She is a girl, yet she carries herself with a weighty presence that belies her youth. Clad in striking black armor that glimmers ominously, the design is both elegant and menacing, with sharp lines carefully etched into the contours of her athletic frame, emphasizing the powerful muscles that lie beneath. The crimson runes engraved upon her gauntlets pulse rhythmically, emanating a fierce energy that radiates respect and caution. Her helmet, resting at her feet, accentuates her cold silver hair, which is styled in a meticulously braided cascade that drapes gracefully over one shoulder, a haunting reminder of mourning in the midst of chaos. Her striking white eyes, a rare and captivating phenomenon, seemed to shine with an otherworldly glow. The brightness of their hue was almost luminescent, drawing attention from everyone in the room. Unlike the typical shades of blue, green, or brown that one might expect, her irises appeared to possess a unique purity and clarity, creating an ethereal quality that was both mesmerizing and slightly unsettling. They seemed to convey a depth of emotion and wisdom beyond her years, inviting those who met her gaze to lose themselves in the enigmatic world behind those pristine orbs. The starkness of their whiteness contrasted sharply with the rest of her features, making her appear otherworldly and intriguing in a way that was impossible to ignore. A tattered black cape billows behind her like a dark specter caught in an invisible wind, trailing after her like a dying shadow across the rocky landscape, a poignant symbol of the fierce battles she has fought and the scars that linger in this realm. Her demeanor strikes a perfect balance between calm and defiance; she stands there still and poised, as if time itself has chosen to pause in deference to her presence. "My name's Kenshi and my lord predicted your arrival at this juncture," she states matter-of-factly, her voice slicing through the charged atmosphere with an unyielding clarity, as though puncturing through the very veil of tension that envelops us.
I halt in my tracks, the air thick with an unspoken challenge, charged with an intoxicating mix of ancient magic and the potential for a fierce confrontation. "And?" I reply, unable to suppress the edge of defiance that colors my tone. "What purpose do you serve in this chaos?"
With an elegance that belies the gravity of the moment, Kenshi places a hand on the hilt of her formidable weapon, a gesture that speaks volumes. It conveys intent, readiness, and the solemnity of what is to come, a silent promise of battle without a word needing to be spoken. "It signifies that your journey reaches its terminus here," she declares with a finality that hangs heavily in the air. "You've ventured into the Hour That Never Was."
I elevate my chin slightly, my golden eyes narrowing, sharpening into fierce slits as I focus on her unwavering form, the refusal to back down firm within my chest. "I have traversed the unforgiving sands of burning time deserts; I have walked through the desolate remnants of history itself and climbed perilous stairs hewn from shattered futures. I will not be dissuaded by mere words from a servant of a coward, demanding I retreat."
In response to my retort, Kenshi draws her sword with a fluid motion, and it emits a sound akin to the mournful weeping of entropy itself, a haunting melody that reverberates deeply within the very core of existence, resonating with the essence of decay and the irrevocable march of time. "I am not simply a servant," Kenshi counters, her voice devoid of doubt, unwavering and strong. "I am his blade, and you will proceed no further than this point."
As the intensity of her presence settles upon me like a weighty shroud, I roll my neck, summoning my energy with fierce determination, and my aura erupts in a brilliant golden blaze of fury that illuminates the space around us. The ground beneath us quakes ominously, mirroring the tempest swirling within me. "I did not journey through this realm, overcome countless trials, and brave the unknown only for a mere exchange of words," I assert, taking one slow, deliberate step forward, my resolve bolstered with each heartbeat. "I came for Katsume."
Kenshis eyes momentarily sparkled with an intense brightness, a fleeting flash that seemed to convey a myriad of emotions. Behind that glimmer, a gentle sense of compassion lingered, carefully masked by an armor of resolve and strength that resembled steel. It was as if the layers of her gaze held stories untold, a deep understanding of the human struggle hidden within. "Then you have arrived here with the inevitability of death looming over you," she stated, her voice steady and calm, as she assessed the weight of the situation before them.
To be continued...