Chapter 78: The Count
Even so, he did not desist from slowly raising his head. His face was cruelly crossed by the agony of having fallen prey to madness.
His affected eyes tried to focus on the figure materializing among the shadows.
Far from him, a shadowy silhouette stood with a fragile posture. It was wrapped in darkness, resembling a messenger of death in its black attire.
Its face was like a blank canvas, heavily stained with red paint, as if someone had poured an entire bucket over its head.
At its presence, the humble woodcutter trembled in response. His knees gave out and he fell to the ground, striking what seemed to be the floor.
In a desperate attempt, he clasped his hands and begged.
"Please... my mother... if you are a demon or a god, I beg you. Give her back to me."
A soft laugh laden with helplessness echoed between the two. The sound was hollow, as if coming from a bottomless well.
"The first instinct of a servile man is to beg. The second instinct is to doubt. And the third instinct is to kill," said that strange figure. "But in any case, a servile man is condemned by his desire. It is an inevitability."
Gabriel clenched his teeth and fists, trying to stop trembling. His voice barely managed to come out.
"Who... who are you...?"
The figure tilted its head slightly. The red blood covering its face seemed to drip slowly, causing a rhythmic sound.
"Does it really matter who I am? Through the countless screams of divine mysteries and the incessant wheel of destiny, even I have fallen to your level, human."
Its words felt more like an internal reproach than a true conversation.
For a moment he saw an even greater shadow, shaped by pain, covering it. Although fear cornered him, the pain for his mother was greater.
"I don’t care if you’re not human. Just... Can you cheat death?"
He had abandoned his sobs and his momentary madness. He had lost everything. He was truly alone and marked by destiny.
He no longer cared about making deals with demons, with gods, or with whatever it was. If he had to cut a log or his morals, he would do it.
The figure took a step forward. It was tall and imposing despite its fragile posture. Its skin was extremely pale.
Its hair was snow-white and fell beyond its shoulders, moving as if a breeze existed in that place.
But its face was horrible. It presented mortal wounds. It had lost both eyes, leaving two empty sockets where dried blood adhered like ancient scabs.
Its mouth was open and dislocated, with putrid black blood dripping slowly.
"You don’t fear demons, do you?"
Gabriel felt his vision blur and his hands go numb. The entire space seemed to spin around him.
"I must have gone crazy... Really crazy," he murmured to himself, almost laughing hysterically.
"You are not really crazy. Not yet," the figure replied calmly.
"The desperation in your vocal cords called me. Your song of destruction built this space... Because you are not destined to die in the cycle of an ordinary man."
Those dark words only managed to make his idea of madness more solid. Or perhaps he had died and was in limbo, suffering his own eternal punishment.
Gabriel cursed inwardly, trying to find some sanity. Not even his composure built through years of cutting wood in the open air could help him.
Without warning, the scene trembled. The connection grew thinner.
A slight change occurred in the shadowed figure.
"Gabriel... You are the new favored descendant of the night. The one who sprayed his blood upon the Bloody Firmament. But you are still too naive..."
Gabriel raised his head for the first time with true determination. He observed those empty sockets where the eyes should have been.
Fear was still there, but also a burning curiosity. His cowardice could never burn with greater intensity than his curiosity.
"Who are you...?"
His question only received a response wrapped in penetrating silence for a few moments. The pale figure observed the distant horizon, contemplating the darkness that surrounded them.
"It is still my lack of manners..." it said finally.
"I am the scion of a family of counts. The traitor and the cursed descendant. I have never dared to profane the sacredness of my name... I am Amazías Von Tepes, a memory."
Its words possessed an overwhelming weight. They struck Gabriel’s mind with force.
Each expression was guided with educated and clear precision, difficult to avoid admiration. But doubts only grew within him like a poison corroding his thoughts.
With difficulty, he stood up, supporting himself on his trembling arms.
"Then... you cannot help my mother..."
Amazías remained standing, finally turning toward him. He began to walk with steps that seemed to avoid contact with the ground, leaving behind a dark miasma.
"All experiences leave traces. It is the phenomenon shared by humans and gods."
"I am only a revelation... It will depend on you to manage to see."
Instantly, clarity began to fill Gabriel’s thoughts. It was a small change, almost imperceptible, but real. Something deeply asleep inside him was beginning to awaken.
An unknown warmth ran through his veins, followed by an abnormal cold that felt both familiar and alien at the same time.
"Then... why am I here?" Gabriel asked, his voice firmer.
"A message," Amazías replied without stopping.
"When you wake up, remember: Blaspheme against the gods, rise up and make yourself worthy of possessing the seed of chaos. Avoid your own tale of destruction..."
His voice reverberated like a warning that transcended the ever-continuous time.
The space surrounding them, already in a fragile and tenuous state, began to ripple like a poorly constructed illusion. The fragments that composed that cold and dark place finally broke into pieces, condemning themselves to fall into absolute nothingness.
Gabriel extended a hand, extremely confused and fearful of what was happening.
"Wait... What?!"
Amazías’s presence faded into the distance, condemned to perish along with the space. But for a moment he stopped, offering the side profile of his emaciated face.
His eyes seemed to contain doubts and reflections that could not be spoken.
Then, Gabriel felt a cold and bony finger touch his forehead with force.
It was a liberating impact. Something inside him unraveled from its ancient chains.
The world built from an illusion completely collapsed.
***
The space shattered into thousands of bright fragments. Gabriel felt his body violently dragged upward.
When he woke up again, Amazías no longer existed. He had been returned to reality, beside the mossy rock, with weakness covering his bones.
But there was a fundamental difference.
He was no longer the woodcutter. His memories had managed to awaken and he had finally abandoned the old illusion where he was a man haunted by the malice of destiny.
He was back in the immense clearing. There were countless trees around him, because he had gotten lost in the depths of the lush forest.
His head hurt as if lightning had struck him. The recovery of his memories had been painfully fast, but he still maintained some mental slowness.
Supporting his hands on the damp rock, he finally regained his composure. He stood up and looked around. The blood still fell from his knuckles, like a loose rope between danger and safety.
It could attract wild animals.
"Even the inventory doesn’t work..." he murmured.
He had tried to access the function to get bandages, but inside that trial it was impossible. It was his first time facing a similar event.
In his previous state he did not even remember who Gabriel was, only the woodcutter. An extremely strange and terrifying state.
But his thoughts turned to the enigmatic figure that had visited him like a revelation. He knew his name, he knew more than he wanted to accept. But even so, every experience managed to surprise him.
For the first time he had obtained substantial information about Amazías. A name that managed to haunt him like a constant nightmare.
He extended his hands to tear the moss covering the rock beneath his feet. He did it like an animal, spreading his blood, despite the pain.
He clenched his teeth until a large part of the moss disappeared. Finally he saw it.
A miracle! A miracle! A miracle!
It was traced on the stone. Like a premonitory or prophetic event.
For a second he doubted what had really brought him there. Was it really him?
Were coincidences possible?
He tried to return to the cabin. The smell managed to spread quickly, running the risk of attracting mortal danger.
His body was injured and weak. It would be practically impossible to survive an encounter with a hungry carnivore.
But to his bad luck, he heard a growl. Low and vibrating.
His blood ran cold.
He had been watched the entire time by an unknown animal that had identified him as prey. Soon he saw its stripes and its fearsome fangs.
It was an extremely massive creature: a tiger.