And yet, Hadjar hadn’t run away. He was now plunging into darkness, disappearing from this world, but he still didn’t regret his decision. He couldn’t stop Sankesh from becoming a god, but trying had been his choice to make. He couldn’t have done anything else. If he had turned around, if he had taken even a single step back, he would no longer have been Hadjar Darkhan. He wouldn’t have been himself, and that was like committing suicide... or even worse than suicide. It was bad when a body died, but it was far worse when a soul died.
Suddenly, something nudged Hadjar’s shoulder. Something, or someone, familiar and strong. In that darkness, he saw a white flash for a moment. It was as if a shadow had passed before him. He could see white hair…
Nero... Serra…
Only now could Hadjar understand their feelings.
They too hadn’t been able to do anything else, to take a step back, or turn back. Because they’d chosen their path. It had been their way. It was easy to walk the crooked path of fear, dishonor, cruelty, uncertainty, cowardice, and weakness. It had a lot of twists, and many opportunities to do what was easier or ‘better’.
Only fools followed the way of honor because the sacrifices required to stay on this path were so immense that it seemed idiotic to even try. Hadjar, without realizing it, had been trying to turn away from this straight, hard path in recent years. He’d begun to forget what honor was. Even in his fight against Brom, he had almost stumbled, and if it hadn’t been for Azrea... Not to mention the other times...
No matter how fast Hadjar fled the capital of Lidus, he couldn’t escape the shadows of his past. It wasn’t his pain that burned in the desert sun, but his memory of it. He wasn’t suffering from wounds in his soul... He was suffering because his soul was withering. Or had already withered. And he realized it only now. In the last moments before his death.
What reasons had he had for going to the library? Helping Serra? Opposing Sankesh? All of these reasons had just been excuses. The truth was that Hadjar’s dying heart had commanded him to do so. His honor had demanded it.
Why had he refused Einen’s help and gone off to face a notoriously strong opponent on his own? Gods? Demons? Elixirs? Fuck all of that! Hadjar didn’t need any reasons to fight when he was called to battle by his honor.
Even the word ‘honor’... Who had invented it? What had it meant to the previous generations? What would it mean to the generations after his? Fuck that shit as well!
All of it was just nonsense.
There were no causes, no consequences, no honor, and no rules. There was only a path. Ant it wasn’t the path of cultivation. It was the path of Life. The path Hadjar had chosen to take. It wasn’t crooked. It had no turns, no ups or downs. There were no stops or breaks. It was a straightforward journey. It led somewhere beyond the horizon, to a place where no man had gone before.
His own way. That was all that mattered in this life. Hadjar didn’t have to justify himself if he followed it. The fact that he’d almost strayed off it only confirmed what he already knew, deep down.
Hadjar had always done what he’d had to do. When everyone said it was impossible, he did it. When no one believed he would get back up, he rose. When everyone thought he was going to die, Hadjar survived. Because that was his path.
Because somewhere out there, a little girl was crying, watching as Hadjar died. Because somewhere out there, hundreds of children were crying, oppressed by Darnassus and other Empires. Because Hadjar hadn’t bowed to the stele of his master, the Immortal swordsman, yet. Because he hadn’t repaid Traves for his sacrifice yet. Because somewhere in the Seventh Heaven, the Magistrate of the gods still stood, and the Jasper Emperor still ruled! Because Hadjar’s journey would be long, longer than even the wildest dreamer could ever imagine. And incredibly difficult.
But had that ever stopped him before? No!
Because his name was Hadjar Darkhan. All he had to do was follow the call of his dragon heart. No shadows from his past, no wounds, no pain, no sorrow, no Sankesh, not even death itself would stop him!
Because for the first time in a long time, he saw the way forward clearly. Straight but broad, his path cut like a sword through everything, giving him real, true freedom. The freedom to follow his heart.
***
“So that’s how you open up,” Sankesh smiled smugly. He grabbed his halberd, and was about to shatter the crystal, when energy exploded behind him.
Sunshine Sankesh, misunderstanding what was happening, turned around. Tendrils of black and blue energy swirled around the body at the edge of the cliff. They poured into the body. Dense, swift, and terrifyingly strong, they were even capable of affecting the physical world! They lifted the dead body higher and higher, until it was wrapped in a glowing sphere. The gaping wound healed, leaving behind a terrible scar on the man’s body, but all the other scars were drawn back into his body. His hair grew out and his muscles tightened.
“Transformation of the Mortal Shell,” Sankesh whispered, “but how-”
Only a true cultivator understood the significance of the Transformation level. As long as a person was still a practitioner, they couldn’t fully realize what energy could do for one’s body. The real Transformation took place only after…
“No…” Sankesh couldn’t believe his eyes!
As Hadjar’s body changed, becoming stronger and larger, a haze appeared behind him. It was shapeless, but still…
“The Awakened Soul…”
Finally, Hadjar opened his eyes. They were as clear as ever. If his will, reflected in them, had been strong enough to break the Heavens before, now it was sharp enough to cut through the threads of Fate.
“The New Soul,” Sankesh murmured.
A savage, inhuman roar filled the plateau. Black lines formed a complex but unfinished pattern across Hadjar’s body. On his shoulders was the cloak of black fog. In his hand, he held the black blade. Despite it being made of the same fog, it felt very real.
“SANKESH!”
Sunshine wasn’t sure that he was still looking at a human, and not a monster or a beast. Those blue eyes were inhuman. There was something alien in them. The power emanating from the creature was definitely that of a true cultivator, a Heaven Soldier. Someone who had been able to transform their body, spirit, and soul. Only a person who saw their way clearly, who knew how to move forward, could be considered a true cultivator! However, the power Sankesh felt from his foe was far greater than what a newly advanced cultivator should be capable of.
A mad smile spread across his face.
“HADJAR!” A second roar, full of power and fury, clashed with the first.
The two warriors rushed at each other.
Chapter 414
Hadjar looked at the Spirit Knight charging toward him. Sankesh, who was enveloped in golden light, hadn’t summoned his spirit. He still wasn’t treating his enemy like a worthy opponent.
Hadjar felt the changes in his body and soul. Only now did he fully understand why only those who were at the Heaven Soldier level and higher were called cultivators, and everyone below that was called practitioners. All the stages and levels he’d gone through up to that point had been preparing him for this. The Bodily Nodes level had allowed him to start absorbing energy from the World River. The Bodily Rivers one had given him a chance to saturate every cell of his body, every atom, with its power. The Formation level had created a place within his soul where the borrowed energy could condense and gradually change, becoming his own. The most important step was the Transformation level and its many stages. After the body and soul had already changed, one only had to consolidate these changes to create a foundation upon which a completely new person would be born. Now Hadjar felt as if he had crawled out of his old skin, like a snake. Or like he’d left an old shell behind. Both a physical and mental one.