Author Romeru
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[LSB] Chapter 136: A Life of This Magnitude
🕑 Added 2025-05-28 13:30:32 +0000 UTC“Everything… is wrong.”
Nuru was still persistent with her thought; that was all she could think.
Everything about Julian’s method was completely different from how Maldan had taught her to create golems. Every step diverged. Every principle contradicted. It was all… wrong.
And yet—Before them stood a statue that looked like it had been carved by the greatest sculptor Artemia had ever known. And Julian wasn’t even a sculptor.
Still, it was wrong. The statue had no veins. No chamber for a golem core. By all traditional standards, it was incomplete. Useless.
She had been ready to step forward again, to correct him. But this time, Maldan didn’t need to stop her. He didn’t need to, as Nuru stopped herself.
After all, Julian said he wasn’t done yet. And so, she watched. Watched to see how he would prove her wrong again.
But at the moment, Julian wasn’t moving. He stood several feet away from the xylarion statue, his stillness almost a mirror of the unmoving figure before him.
The only one still working was Juliet.
She had taken over the finer details—chipping gently, adding the subtle textures Julian had left for her to shape: the wrinkles on the knuckles, the curve of the navel, and then lower, between the thighs—delicate folds that would complete the figure of a woman.
She didn’t want to do this at first. The statue already felt perfect. She was afraid she’d ruin it.
But Julian had said she was better than he with the ornate details. And, truthfully, she knew he was right. Their works had always ended the same way: he forged the masterpiece, and she carved the personality. The flourishes, the ornaments, the touches that made their creations sing to Artemia’s people—those were hers.
So she did it.
And the moment her hands touched metal, all her nerves vanished.
She worked with care. With reverence. As if she weren’t sculpting a statue, but a real living soul.
Time passed. Maybe an hour. Maybe more.
Then her hands started to shake again. Her breath caught as her knees gave way and she fell back, landing hard on her butt.
She pulled off her bandana, and the long strands of her damp hair clung to her cheeks and neck. She wiped the sweat from her brow, then raised her head to look up at Julian.
“Boss… It’s done,” she whispered, her voice ragged.
Only then did Julian move. He stepped forward at last and reached a hand toward her. Juliet took it, letting him pull her to her feet.
“What next?” She asked between breaths.
But it wasn’t Julian who answered.
“Rest, little dear.”
Exhalia’s voice drifted from behind Julian—no, from within him—as she emerged once again. She leaned back first, as if rising from water, her body slowly parting from his.
“It is my turn once more,” she said, placing her hands gently on Julian’s shoulders.
Her hands caressed him softly, and then slipped through him. Literally. Palms, arms, shoulders, torso—her entire form passed through his body until she stood in front of him again, whole and unbothered.
The scenery was… disturbing, and it left Juliet wondering what she had just watched. But of course, she didn’t say anything as she didn’t want to disturb Julian’s concentration. She just once again stepped back and joined Maldan and Nuru.
Exhalia took Julian’s hand and pulled him gently toward the statue. As they approached, she nestled herself into his arms, brushing her fingers along the thick muscle of his forearm before finally entwining her fingers with his.
“Use me, Shadow Blacksmith,” she whispered as she extended her and Julian’s left hand toward the xylarion statue, her index finger stretched out like a scalpel—no. It truly did feel like a scalpel with how sharp and long her nail suddenly was,
“Use me like one of your tools.”
“Hmm.” Julian slipped his hand free from hers, then gently took hold of it again—this time, grasping it tightly.
“Hnn…”
A soft sound escaped Exhalia’s lips—a sigh, perhaps? No, most definitely a moan. Juliet squinted, glancing around the room to see if anyone else noticed. No one did. Apparently, she was the only one who found it strange.
Julian placed the tip of Exhalia’s nail against the statue’s chest. It sank in effortlessly, the metal parting around it like butter beneath a blade.
With a calm and gentle motion, he began to guide her hand. Each breath was measured, as if the rhythm of his lungs were syncing with the lines he carved.
Exhalia truly did let Julian move and control her—she didn’t fight at all, she was like a marionette, a marionette slowly dancing with her puppeteer. She didn’t even need her eyes, she had them closed while her head leaned back to rest on Julian’s shoulder and neck as he cradled her with his other arm.
When Julian stepped, she stepped with him. When he circled the statue, she followed. Silent. She was his shadow.
Together, they traced intricate lines across the surface, carving pathways that spiraled outward from the chest and flowed through the limbs. Gaps. Veins. Crevices.
Nuru frowned again. It’s wrong, she thought. It’s all wrong.
But she stayed silent.
Julian continued until the statue no longer resembled the pristine form it had once been. It was scarred now—covered in cuts, openings, and hollow channels. It was… defaced.
But Julian didn’t flinch.
He stepped back, then gently extended Exhalia’s hand toward Juliet and the others.
“The core,” he said, and Exhalia’s palm suddenly opened in response.
Juliet quickly darted to the workbench and retrieved the Golem core resting there. She hesitated briefly as she approached Julian, her eyes staring at the sharpness of Exhalia’s nail, but she pushed past her nerves and placed the core into her hand.
She paused for a moment, studying Exhalia’s face.
The spirit looked… absent. Empty. Her expression was serene, but unseeing. She wasn’t there—not fully. Her movements were purely Julian’s now.
Juliet stepped back, once again rejoining Maldan and Nuru without a word.
Julian turned back to the statue and, with utmost care, guided Exhalia’s hand toward its chest.
Together, they pushed.
The core slowly slid inside—Exhalia’s hand sinking in with it, the white metal parting around them.
The entire surface of the statue rippled as it made space for the core. The melted metal from its chest slowly crawled across the gaps Julian had carved to create the veins, flowing to cover them completely.
And slowly, its beauty returned to it. The marred shell was no longer marred. It had been reshaped, reborn.
Julian slowly withdrew Exhalia’s hand from the statue, and she let out a soft gasp as soon as Julian released her hand. She looked at the lifeless golem before her, then smiled faintly and turned to face him.
And just like that, the golem was complete.
Well—almost.
“Now, all that remains is for you to breathe life into it,” she whispered, stepping behind him once more and sliding seamlessly back into his body.
Julian stared at the unmoving golem for a few quiet seconds before turning to Maldan.
And finally, he asked him a question.
“How do I do that?”
“Forger—channel thy mana, thy MP, into the golem’s core,” Maldan replied, bowing his head with reverence.
“I oft perform this rite before the heart is set within the body… yet I trust thou hast thy own way, as thou hast shown. I have ne’er placed a spirit within such a vessel. I am, sadly, truly not worthy to guide thee in this.”
“Hmm.”
Julian held Maldan’s gaze for a few more moments, then turned back to the golem.
He stepped forward, laid his hand gently over its chest, and closed his eyes.
Then, without a word, he reached for the hem of his tunic and stripped it off, baring his skin for everyone to see.
“Boss…” Juliet breathed, her voice slightly trembling. The dim glow of the cavern fire caught every line of muscle across Julian’s torso. But she quickly shook the thought away and focused on his actions instead.
Julian… embraced the golem.
He wrapped both arms around it, pressing his bare chest against its own. More specifically—he pressed the Mark of MEGAN on his chest to the statue’s heart.
‘MEGAN,’ he called.
But she didn’t emerge right away. He felt her hesitation.
‘MEGAN. Go. Be...’
There were many things he could’ve said. Be free—but freedom wasn’t the right word. MEGAN had never seen herself as trapped. So, he said the only thing he felt at the moment.
‘Be who you were always meant to be.’
And with those words, MEGAN slipped out from his chest. Out… of his heart.
She flowed like light, passing through his body and into the golem’s. Straight into the core.
Julian didn’t even have to do anything, he didn’t even channel his mana like Maldan said—after all, he didn’t need to. He and MEGAN were directly connected—her power came from him, not from the nature of Artemia like the other spirits.
“See you soon,” Julian whispered.
He tightened his embrace… and that’s when the golem began to pull him in.
Physically.
The Golem core was actively drawing him with MEGAN. His body suddenly shriveled. His skin paled. But he couldn’t let go—he didn’t let go.
Embracing the golem wasn’t actually his idea, it was MEGAN’s.
She asked for it. She wanted her first sensation—her first real moment of being—to be Julian’s warmth. His arms around her. His embrace.
Gentle.
If only the same could be said for what Julian was feeling now. Because in that moment, he felt everything being taken from him.
His strength. His breath. His warmth.
“Khh—!”
“Boss?!”
Juliet moved to rush toward him, but stopped short when she saw his skin draining of color, veins darkening, his flesh collapsing inward as if his blood and water were being sucked away.
Still, she pushed forward to help him, but Maldan placed a firm hand on her arm.
“This is a trial he must face alone,” Maldan said quietly, gripping Juliet’s hand firmly. “This moment is his—and the life he is about to call into the world.”
“But…” Juliet gritted her teeth. Her eyes shimmered, barely holding back tears, as she watched Julian’s flesh slowly shrivel and sink inward.
Once again, in the moment he needed her most, she could do nothing but watch.
“Stop…”
Before her thoughts could spiral any further, a large, steady hand settled on her shoulder.
“I know what you're feeling,” Nuru whispered. “But stop it. Never think of yourself as useless, child.”
Juliet didn’t respond right away. She glanced up at Nuru, breathing hard. Then, with a shaky nod, she turned her gaze back to Julian—back to the man slowly giving everything he had.
But none of them knew exactly the chaos raging inside him.
[Let go, Shadow Blacksmith! Something’s wrong—let go!]
Exhalia had actually been screaming in his mind ever since MEGAN entered the core. Julian wasn’t just losing mana—she truly was draining his very strength, his essence. His life.
Even the Avatar of Searadyn sounded shaken.
[Master! Do as Exhalia says! You will perish if you continue!]
[Shadow Blacksmith!]
Their voices clawed for his attention, but he ignored them all. Julian’s thoughts were elsewhere, swimming in memory.
Moments with MEGAN. Conversations. Laughter. Pain. The thousands of little ways she’d become part of him.
But then came a voice he couldn’t ignore.
[You are attempting to bestow life using a soul not of this world, and not of the living.]
The voice of the Guidance of Artemis rang out in his mind.
[You are attempting what has never been done. You challenge the laws of Artemia, you challenge the will of Artemis herself. For this, the price must be equal to the weight of your actions.]
[Wait—no!] Exhalia’s voice turned frantic. [Artemis, you mustn’t—Kh!]
A crushing weight fell over her and the Avatar of Searadyn. Both found themselves kneeling within the Shadow Forge—brought low not by command, but by presence alone.
The Guidance said nothing to them, but the warning was clear.
And then—
[Julian Winters.] This time, the voice held something it never had before: emotion. The weight of a soul. As if—for the first time—it wasn’t just the Guidance that spoke.
But Artemis herself.
[Julian Winters,] she echoed, her voice slowly becoming stern,
[For life of this magnitude to be born... a sacrifice must be made.]
***
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Aw shit, here we go again.
