NOVGO.NET Chapter 1152: Nyx Shadowfall’s True Face: Part-3 [Bonus]
Chapter 1152: Nyx Shadowfall’s True Face: Part-3 [Bonus]
The dark sky above, once scattered with shimmering stars, suddenly began to collapse. One by one, the stars fell—raining down like blazing meteors crashing toward the barren land below. But what no one could have ever guessed…
Those stars weren’t stars at all.
They were souls.
No—ghosts!!
Spirits, countless in number, plummeting from the heavens and striking the ground with explosive bursts of black and violet light. But they didn’t scatter aimlessly. They weren’t random. Each one landed in formation—surrounding the casket—standing guard around the woman who lay within, as if they had awoken to shield their Queen.
Aether’s eyes widened in disbelief.
But these weren’t ordinary ghosts.
Their bodies shimmered with ethereal black mist, leaking heavily from their forms like smoke rising from fire. Their presence was thick, heavy—oppressive. Each one wore dark, ancient armor fused with their translucent bodies, their edges jagged, as if forged in torment. Their eyes glowed faintly with purplish-blue flames, the same hue that burned in Nyx’s skeletal socket.
Their faces were human… almost. Yet not quite. They bore expressions too controlled, too hollow—like masks stretched over pain and purpose. And every one of them stared at Aether and Ashara with cold, hostile eyes.
Then—
A figure stepped forward.
A tall, broad-shouldered woman emerged from the front line of ghosts. Her armor was heavier, darker, cracked from battle, yet still carried a commanding presence. Muscles coiled under her spectral form, and her eyes blazed just like Nyx’s—pure purplish-blue flame dancing inside both sockets.
She raised one armored hand, pointing directly at them.
“Intruders.”
Her voice was low, resonant, like ice grinding against stone. It chilled the air even further, as if her words alone had weight.
And then—
“ARRRRRRHHHHH!!!”
The scream echoed across the land.
All of the ghosts howled in fury, their ghost-flames bursting to life as their voices merged into one vengeful cry. It was the sound of an army enraged. Of ancient warriors disturbed from slumber. Of souls sworn to protect something sacred.
It was rage.
They were angry—furious—that someone had dared to wake their Queen from her eternal rest.
Aether’s heart thudded wildly in his chest. He grabbed Ashara tightly by the waist, ready to move.
“Ashara… we need to go,” he muttered urgently, his voice sharp with panic.
But she didn’t respond.
He looked down—and froze.
Ashara had already collapsed in his arms. Her body hung limp, her eyes half-closed with an expression that was neither shock nor fear… but something deeper. Something between enlightenment and pure horror.
Her mind had shut down—overwhelmed.
She couldn’t handle what she had seen.
Aether clenched his jaw. “Shit…”
Without wasting another second,
He activated his teleportation—
!~Ding~!
[Failed! Unable to Teleport from Personal Realm!]
“What?!” Aether shouted in disbelief. “Fuck!”
He looked around.
They were completely surrounded.
The ghostly warriors had already encircled him—closing in from every direction with weapons drawn, spectral swords and halberds glowing with eerie, cursed light.
Aether gritted his teeth, holding Ashara tightly with one arm, his other hand raised in a plea. He knew they could speak. They had language. Which meant… maybe they could understand him.
Maybe they would listen.
“My name is Aether!” he shouted, loud and clear. “I’m not your enemy! I’m Nyx’s husband!”
For a brief moment… everything paused.
The ghosts halted.
Their weapons didn’t lower, but their movement stopped. Some glanced at each other in silence, confusion or uncertainty passing through the collective. But all eyes eventually turned to the towering, muscled woman at the front—the one who stood closest to Nyx’s casket, like a sentinel.
She narrowed her flaming eyes.
“Our Queen never married anyone,” she said coldly, her voice like a blade drawn in the dark.
Then, without hesitation—
“Destroy the intruders!”
“ARRRRRRHHHHH!!!”
The ghosts roared again as they charged forward—every one of them bursting with raw spectral power, weapons drawn, fury unleashed.
Aether took a shaky breath, tightening his hold around Ashara’s unconscious form. His eyes darted left, then right—no gaps, no exits, no hope for escape.
The first ghost—a soldier wielding a rusted spear cloaked in black fire—charged straight at him. Aether’s instincts screamed, urging him to defend. But he gritted his teeth and twisted his body just enough to dodge, turning at the last second to avoid the stabbing strike. The spear pierced the ground beside him, sizzling as the energy hissed against the dust.
Another swung a blade at his side.
Aether ducked low, rolling to the side as he shielded Ashara with his body. The air above him split open with a ghostly screech as the blade missed by inches.
He still didn’t strike.
Not yet.
His breath was fast. His mind raced.
But they weren’t stopping.
The third one came straight at him—an armored ghost with a broken helmet and one glowing eye socket. Its axe whirled overhead as it prepared to bring it down with merciless force.
Aether had no choice.
His muscles tensed. His fist clenched.
And for the first time—he struck back.
He twisted and threw a punch with his full strength, aiming straight for the ghost’s chest.
His fist connected swallowed inside the ghost’s chest like a smoke—
“GHHHAA!”
Pain tore through Aether’s body.
It wasn’t physical. Not completely. It was deeper. Sharper. His vision blurred as his knees buckled. His bones trembled violently, as if reality had cracked around him. And then—
!~Ding~!
[Activating Echoes of Souls!]
Images.
Flashes.
Not his.
A memory that wasn’t his own forced itself into his skull like a blade being driven in.
He saw a child.
A small, pale boy with ragged hair and hollow eyes. He wandered alone in a shattered world of black mist and endless ruin, calling out into the void—
“Mom…? Mama…? Papa… Where are you…?”
The child walked for what felt like forever.
Starving. Crying. Lost.
A mother who never came.
A Father who never touched him.
A voice that was never answered.
The memory faded.
And Aether collapsed to one knee, gasping as sweat poured down his face. His heart hammered. His hands trembled violently. His breath shuddered as the pain subsided—but the echo of that memory still clung to him like frostbite.
The ghost he struck had stopped, too.
It stood still.
Staring at Aether with wide, flickering eyes.
Its expression had changed.
Not angry.
Just… confused.
’H-Hey, Log… what was that?’ Aether asked inwardly, his thoughts shaken, breath still uneven.
[Those are souls, Aether… They’re not just ghosts. They carry the full weight of their memories, their pain, their regrets. You better not touch them again… Because if you do, you’ll feel and see everything they went through.]
Aether’s throat tightened.
He looked around.
Hundreds.
No—thousands of ghosts surrounded him now.
He could barely stand after just one touch.
His voice cracked as he muttered, “T-Then… if all of them touched me… I…”
Before he could even finish the thought—
[You’d go insane.]
[Your brain wouldn’t survive it. You’d drown in their memories. So you better stop thinking and run, now!🏃♀️➡️]
Aether’s eyes widened in alarm. Holding Ashara in his arms, He didn’t hesitate. His legs surged with energy as he pushed off the cracked ground in a full sprint.
“CAPTURE HIM!!”
The muscled woman roared, her voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. Her burning eyes locked onto Aether like a predator. She raised her massive greatsword, pointing it forward with a trembling fury.
“DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE! HE DARED TO APPROACH OUR QUEEN!”
Her scream shook the sky.
Immediately, the ghostly army roared in unison, their cries wild and furious. Mist exploded from their bodies as they broke into a dead sprint after him—some climbing over others, some phasing through each other, all determined to catch the intruder.
Ashara’s limp body bounced lightly in Aether’s arms as he kept running, every ounce of his strength focused on escape.
He risked a quick glance over his shoulder—and his blood ran cold.
A tsunami of ghosts surged toward him like a wave of death. Thousands of souls flooded the barren land, their wailing cries rising into the air like a symphony of wrath and vengeance. Mist trailed behind them in long, tendril-like streaks. Their faces were contorted with fury, eyes burning with spectral flame.
’Fuck! I’m going to have nightmares for years!’ Aether screamed internally as his heart thudded harder, his arms tightening protectively around Ashara’s unconscious form.
He turned his head back and scanned the distance.
Then—he saw it.
The doorway. The one they had entered through.
It was still there—still open. Aether’s eyes widened with hope, and a grin stretched across his face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
“There it is!” he gasped.
He pushed his body even harder, sprinting faster, the wind slicing past his ears, the sound of ghostly roars at his back growing louder. The exit drew closer—just a few more feet—
Then—
Thud!
Aether’s heart sank.
The ground cracked beneath the force of the impact.
Before him stood the muscled woman—The ghost commander. Her body blocked the entire path, tall and unmoving, mist swirling around her like a shield. Her glowing eyes burned like twin comets as her massive blade rested across her shoulder.
“No…” Aether muttered, skidding to a halt, breathless.
With no hesitation, he summoned his magic—ice spears surged from his palm, sharp and fast. He followed with flames, roaring out in a fiery burst, attempting to freeze her in place and burn her down in the same breath.
But they didn’t do anything.
The spears went straight through her.
The flames passed harmlessly into her body, as if she were air. Not even her armour was scorched.
“What—?!” Aether’s eyes widened. He even used air, but it didn’t work at all!
The woman raised her sword with one hand, lifting it high as black fire danced along its edges. Her expression didn’t change. There was no emotion. No hesitation.
Only duty.
She swung the massive blade toward him with the force of a collapsing world.
Aether growled through gritted teeth. “Damn it—I don’t have a choice!”
He ducked low, using the momentum of her swing to slide under the blade, barely dodging the deadly arc. The blade sliced the air above his head with a deafening whoosh.
Dust exploded around him.
Still holding Ashara in his arms, Aether didn’t stop.
He jumped—directly into the muscled woman’s body.
Into her soul.
“GHHHAA!!”
Pain.
Unbearable pain.
His mind cracked—
!~Ding~!
[Activating Echoes of Souls!]
Memories.
Memories.
A field of burning trees. Screams. A family is being dragged away. A warrior kneeling alone in the ashes. Blood dripping from her hands as she looked at them—then at herself—wondering why she still stood.
A promise made to someone who was already gone.
A Queen who gave her meaning.
A death she chose willingly.
And the order she would protect beyond death itself.
Aether’s vision blurred, his throat tightened, and for a second—just a second—he forgot who he was.
Then, he burst through her body.
He emerged from the other side of the muscled ghost, crashing into the cold air of the real world once again.
His eyes rolled forward, breath caught in his throat.
And there it was.
The doorway.
Just a few inches ahead.
Aether’s lips curled into a relieved grin. He could almost touch it. He reached out, fingers trembling—
!~Ding~!
[💀Alert: The Grace Entity has entered your Domain!! Please Protect your domain!]
Aether’s heart lurched.
’Fuc—’
Before he could even finish the thought, his eyes rolled back again. His body gave out completely. His mind—already cracked and shaken by too many spirits, too many memories—shut down. His legs buckled mid-sprint.
He collapsed.
His body hit the ground hard, skidding against the dusty ground. Ashara’s unconscious form bounced lightly in his arms as they rolled together across the floor, a cloud of dust rising behind them.
And then—
They stopped.
Just inches from the doorway.
Aether’s fingers stretched forward… frozen… barely a breath away from escape.
Silence returned for a moment.
Then—
Thud.
Heavy boots hit the ground behind them.
The muscled woman stepped forward through the lingering mist, her massive blade dragging behind her with a grinding screech.
She looked down at Aether and Ashara—both lying unconscious on the ground, helpless, unmoving.
And for the first time… she smiled.
A cruel, predatory grin stretched across her face.
She lifted her massive blade into the air, dark mist spiralling around it like coiled snakes, and pointed it downward toward their still bodies.