Free Web NovelChapter 123: Jason Vs The Shade Lord!
The Shade Lord and the Ember King descended upon the chamber like twin cataclysms.
Their arrival was not announced by words or war cries. It was announced by pressure—a crushing, suffocating weight that pressed down on the air itself. The shadows in the room deepened, stretching and writhing as the Shade Lord’s formless body consumed the light.
His presence was a void, a hunger that drank the warmth from the air. The temperature spiked, the stone beneath the Ember King’s feet cracking and glowing with trapped heat. Rivers of molten light pulsed through his cracked skin like veins of liquid fire.
Maldred saw them and felt a flicker of relief.
Despite everything—despite the centuries of betrayal, and the endless hunger that had driven hi to cheat the cycle—he knew that their hatred for the Marrow was greater than their hatred for him. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
They would attack Jason first. They would want to kill the vessel that had stolen their power, that had put a boundary around their powers, that had reduced their purpose to ashes. Maldred was a traitor. But Jason was an abomination.
The two lords paused at the edge of the chamber.
Their massive forms stood motionless, their attention fixed on the small figure in the center of the ruins. Jason.
He was so small compared to them—a fragile, mortal shape surrounded by giants. His body was broken and bloodied, his clothes torn, his skin pale. And yet, he contained the Marrow.
How could something this small contain the power of the Marrow?
The question hung in the air, unspoken but undeniable. The Shade Lord’s spectral eyes flickered with confusion. The Ember King’s molten skin pulsed with uncertainty.
They had sensed the Marrow’s power flowing into this vessel, but seeing it with their own eyes was something else entirely.
They did not speak. They did not utter a word. They simply stood and watched what it wished to do.
Jason did not acknowledge their existence.
He did not turn, did not flinch, did not even seem to register their presence.
His hollow eyes remained fixed on Maldred, his footsteps unhurried, his movements mechanical and deliberate.
The lords were nothing to him.
The Marrow’s will had consumed everything else.
The lords did not intervene. They had no business with Maldred at the end of the day. Their fury was reserved for the Marrow itself, for the power that had bound them, crippled them, forced them into an endless cycle of sleep. And now that power was concentrated in a single, fragile vessel.
Jason reached Maldred.
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around the giant’s throat. Maldred, still frozen on his knees, could not move. Could not fight. Could not even gasp as Jason’s grip tightened. The iron-grey skin of his neck cracked under the pressure.
The lords watched in silence.
Jason’s grip tightened around Maldred’s throat, hus fingers digging into its flesh.
The giant’s iron-grey skin cracked beneath the pressure, black ichor seeping through the fissures. Maldred’s golden eyes bulged, his massive hands clawing uselessly at the arm that held him, he could not break free. He could not even move. The Marrow’s will pinned him in place like a butterfly to a board.
Jason did not care about the souls trapped within Maldred’s body in that brief moment. Not Thalion’s. Not the dozens of others. Not the fragment of Tauriel’s essence that still flickered somewhere in the void. In that moment, he wanted only one thing—to take the life of the creature before him.
This was the side effect of the power in him, Jason was overcome with emotions he was still adjusting to despite his adaptation.
He had no idea what he adapted to, the system couldn’t even recognize it so there was a good chance it was causing some momentary lapses within Jason.
He was acting on instinct.
The system had adapted to the Marrow. It had processed the ancient power, integrated it, made it a part of him. But that adaptation had come at a cost. The Jason who had cracked jokes and held Ylva’s hand was buried somewhere deep beneath layers of a powerful will.
Before he could deliver the killing blow, the Shade Lord moved at last.
The shadow-wreathed being had sensed something within Jason—a resonance, a threat, a presence that demanded immediate destruction. It had no loyalty to Maldred. It had no interest in saving the traitor. But the thing wearing Jason’s skin was an abomination, a violation of the natural order, and it needed to be erased.
The Shade Lord’s hand extended. From the darkness around it, a blade materialized—a sword composed of pure shadow, its edge sharp enough to sever souls, its form shifting and writhing like living night. It swept toward Jason’s neck with the speed of a striking viper. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
The blade shattered upon impact.
Not against a barrier, not against a wall of wood. Against Jason’s bare skin. His neck, exposed and vulnerable, had turned aside the Shadow Lord’s weapon as if it were made of glass. A faint shimmer rippled across his flesh—the barrier, now so refined, so absolute, that it had become indistinguishable from his body.
Jason did not acknowledge the attack. He did not turn. He did not even blink. His hollow eyes remained fixed on Maldred, and his grip continued to tighten.
Maldred felt the end approaching. He had spent so long getting stronger that it was quite ironic that it was all for nothing in the end.
And now, he was going to die at the hands of an abomination wearing the face of a mortal.
In his desperation, he made a choice.
He allowed Thalion to take over his consciousness.
For a brief moment, Maldred’s golden eyes flickered. The cold, calculating hatred that had burned within them was replaced by something else—fear, confusion, and a desperate hope.
Thalion looked at Jason.
"J-Jason..." he said, his voice strained, barely a whisper. "... I-I’m so happy you’re okay. It is okay, finish it..." Thalion resigned himself, all of this was his fault and he could see the pain behind those formless eyes.
Jason’s grip loosened for a fraction of a second.
The system registered the name. The Marrow’s will, absolute and unyielding, faltered for just a moment—a crack in the armor, a flicker of the man beneath.
Thalion pressed forward. "Please! Enough! Leave Ja—"
Maldred surged back into control.
The giant’s golden eyes blazed with fury. He tore himself free from Jason’s grip, scrambling backward, his massive frame scraping against the broken stone. He gasped for air, his hand pressed against his cracked throat.
Jason did not pursue. He stood motionless, his hollow eyes fixed on the space where Maldred had been.
Then he turned.
His gaze swept past Ylva and Mae, past the Ember King, and settled on the Shade Lord. The creature that had tried to take his head. The being that had interrupted his work.
Jason raised his hand.
Wood erupted from the ground—not roots, not branches, but something refined. Something sharp. A blade formed in his grip, its edge gleaming with a faint golden light. It was not shadow nor was not flame. It was wood, shaped and hardened by the Marrow’s ancient power.
This weapon was the size of the giant.
He pointed it at the Shade Lord.
They had not spoken a single word to each other. They had not exchanged threats or challenges. But in that moment, both of them understood. There was only one path forward.
The Shade Lord’s formless body shifted. Another sword materialized in its grasp—longer, sharper, more solid than the first. The shadows around it thickened, coiling like serpents.
Jason moved first.
He crossed the distance between them in a blur of motion, his wooden blade singing through the air. The Shade Lord raised its shadow sword to block. Wood met shadow. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, cracking the stone beneath their feet.
The Shade Lord stumbled back.
It had expected resistance. It had expected a fight. But it had not expected to be pushed. Jason pressed his advantage, his blade flashing in a series of rapid strikes—high, low, left, right. Each blow was precise, relentless, fueled by a power that should not exist in a mortal frame.
The Shade Lord parried, dodged, and retreated. Its shadow sword flickered and wavered under the assault. It was being pressed. Forced back. And Jason was not even using the full power of the Marrow.
The Ember King watched in silence, its molten eyes tracking the battle.
Jason’s blade found its mark. A gash opened across the Shade Lord’s formless body, shadows bleeding from the wound like smoke. The creature recoiled, its spectral eyes widening with something that might have been sLord’s!
Jason managed to wound it despite it having no form.
Jason did not pursue. He stood his ground, his blade held loosely at his side, his hollow eyes fixed on his opponent.
The Shade Lord regrouped. Its form solidified, its blade rose once more.
They had not spoken a word to each other.
But the fight was far from over.
