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Chapter 30
Into the Past (Final)
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"It's been a long time… Brother," Boris said flatly, his voice devoid of warmth. It wasn't reunion he felt—it was quiet contempt. A chill hung in the air, but not just from the biting wind. The tension between the two men was a deeper cold.
Viktor Volkov, dressed in thick dark robes lined with foreign sigils, stood with two robed figures on either side. He smiled faintly, as if relishing the awkward silence.
Boris narrowed his eyes and gestured toward the strangers. "Who are these two?"
"They're your cousins," Viktor replied nonchalantly. At his signal, the two figures simultaneously pulled back their hoods.
Twin faces stared at Boris, pale as untouched snow, their features cold and sculpted with an unnatural symmetry. Their eyes were like shards of frozen glass, devoid of mercy or mirth.
"She's Sasha, and the other one is—"
"I don't care about their names, Viktor," Boris snapped, his tone cutting like a blade through the frostbitten air.
The insult stung. The twins' eyes flared with disdain. Without a word, they summoned curved daggers born of roiling dark mist—living shadows sharpened into deathly blades.
Yet Boris didn't flinch. His indifference was a wall of iron. He simply continued, his voice calm but pointed. "Why are you here?"
Silence clung to the snowy forest like a burial shroud. The wind howled through the trees, as if whispering a warning.
Viktor broke the silence. "Sasha. Anna. This is a family reunion. No weapons." His voice was calm, but the steel beneath it made them obey. With visible reluctance, the twins dispelled the daggers into smoke.
"Family?" Boris scoffed. "I stopped being part of our family years ago. I made that clear, didn't I?" He stepped closer, every inch of his presence radiating hostility. "So I'll ask again—what do you want?"
Viktor's expression darkened. "Grandfather is dead."
Boris froze. His face drained of color. For a moment, all the cold in the world seemed to settle in his chest.
"…What?"
His grandfather had been ancient, decrepit—but this news was not a relief. It was a warning. Boris hadn't loved the old man. He hated him. Yet, this death… it wasn't freedom. It was an omen.
He swallowed hard. "Wh-who's the new vessel?"
Viktor chuckled, dark and bitter. "Papa. He volunteered. He's the new Baba Yaga now."
Boris staggered slightly, gripping the doorframe for support. "No. That's… that's not possible. He's too old. Too weak. He'll die."
"He doesn't care," Viktor said with a twisted smile. "That greedy bastard killed every other candidate. It was either him… or no one."
The world spun for Boris. It wasn't grief that churned his stomach—it was fear. A twisted, festering fear of what this meant for the world… and for his family.
"But that doesn't explain why you're here," he snapped, recovering his focus. "Why. Are. You. Here?"
Viktor's grin widened, tainted by malice. "You see, dear brother… the Volkov bloodline is thinning. We need fresh blood. Promising youth. So I came to you."
"That makes no sense."
"Oh, it will," Viktor said, craning his neck to peer past Boris into the warmth of the cottage. "Nice house. Looks cozy."
Boris stepped forward, using his broad frame to block the view. His body was a barricade between the intruders and the life he had built.
"Come on, brother," Viktor teased. "Let us in. It's freezing out here."
"No."
Viktor blinked. "No?"
"No," Boris repeated, flatly.
Viktor chuckled, but there was a dark glint in his eyes now. "Still so heartless. You'd let your family freeze to death out here?"
"I don't know what you want from me, but I want you away from my home. Now. And don't ever come back."
Boris moved to shut the door. But Viktor's hand shot out, gripping the edge and stopping it cold. The strength behind his hand was immense—unnatural.
Boris pushed harder, but the door didn't budge.
'He's gotten stronger,' Boris thought grimly. The sick joy on Viktor's face confirmed it.
"Oh, and how's my dear sister-in-law?" Viktor cooed mockingly. "Two children, right? I hope they're still awake. I'd love to meet them."
The wood creaked. Cracks split across the frame as the brothers pushed against each other with force capable of crushing bone.
"What do you want, Viktor?" Boris roared. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave—I'll kill you."
Viktor said nothing. His smile was a razor's edge.
"The Baba Yaga will need a new host soon," he whispered. "Why not offer your son? You'll be rewarded… handsomely."
Boris's hand surged with dark mist, forming a gauntlet. With a snarl, he drove his fist into Viktor's jaw, sending him flying back into the waiting arms of the twins.
Without hesitation, Boris slammed the door and placed his palm flat against it.
"CURSE MAGIC: GRIP."
"CURSE MAGIC: IMMOVABLE."
"CURSE MAGIC: MAGIC REFLECTION."
Three layers of powerful curses bound the door, locking it against even the strongest intruder.
Aroha appeared behind him, concern written across her face. "What was that noise, dear? What's happening?"
Boris turned, his voice grave. "No time. Take the kids—get them out. Now."
There was a resounding thud. The door groaned under a blow so strong it nearly buckled.
"My brother is after our children. Get them to safety."
Aroha's face paled, but she nodded. She scooped up their daughter, Anahera, while Nikolai trailed behind, confused and frightened. Just moments ago, they had been eating dinner. Now their world was unraveling.
"We're ready," Aroha said, eyes wide but steady.
Before Boris could reply, the door exploded inward, shattering into splinters. He leapt in front of his family, shielding them with his body. Shards of wood rained down like shrapnel.
Viktor stepped through the ruined threshold, flanked by the twins.
"GO!" Boris shouted. Aroha bolted toward the back room with the children.
Viktor pointed. "Don't let them escape!"
Sasha and Anna lunged toward the hallway—but Boris was faster.
Dark mist erupted from his arms, forming chains that shot across the room like serpents. The links wrapped around the twins' necks. With a roar, Boris yanked them back and slammed them into the floor, following up with a bone-breaking clothesline. The chains shifted shape, solidifying into twin spears. He drove them toward their necks for a swift execution—
SWOOSH!
An arrow embedded itself into Boris's shoulder.
"ARGH!" he stumbled back.
SWOOSH!
Another pierced his thigh, forcing him to a knee.
He gritted his teeth and glared at Viktor, who stood with a bow in hand, grinning like a demon. "Bastard…"
"I could've gone for the head. But where's the fun in that?"
The dark mist surged around Boris once more, forming full-body chainmail. Metal plates clicked into place, and a helm encased his face in steel.
The twins sprinted for the hallway. Boris tried to intercept—but Victor's own chains lashed out, binding Boris's wrists.
With a snarl, Viktor hurled him out of the cottage. Boris crashed into the snow, carving a trench in the earth.
Victor emerged, a black Zweihander in hand. "This brings back memories, doesn't it, brother?" he sneered. "Only this time, I will win. And when I do, your corpse will be my offering to the Baba Yaga. My reward will be… divine."
"You'll kill your own brother… for power?" Boris stood. His armor clanked, the mist roiling around him like smoke from a dying fire. "That's why our family is dying. We destroy ourselves. We always have."
"I don't give a FUCK!" Viktor's face twisted into madness. "We're the Volkovs. Descendants of the Baba Yaga. The Sin of Greed is our inheritance."
He raised his hand to the void-black sky. "Greed can never be stopped. Greed can never be reasoned with. Greed can never be quenched—for it is NEVER ENOUGH!"
Boris saw it clearly now. This wasn't his brother anymore. It was a beast, clothed in flesh, drunk on madness and ambition.
There was only one way this ended.
Boris charged.
He raised his Zweihander and cast his curse.
CURSE MAGIC: LACERATE!
The blade pulsed with malevolent energy. He brought it down on Viktor's neck in a savage arc.
CLANG!
The cursed steel met a kite shield. It shattered the shield—but Viktor dodged at the last second, spinning away and delivering a brutal kick to Boris's ribs.
Viktor's broken shield bore deep claw-like marks. "Lacerate, huh? You always loved that curse," he said. "Guess what—so do I."
Viktor summoned armor and a long sword. Mist swirled around him as he cast the same curse on his sword.
CLANG!
Their blades met again. Sparks danced like fireflies in the storm.
Boris stepped back, adjusting for a vertical slash.
CURSE MAGIC: ARMOR SHREDDER!
Jagged black edges erupted along his blade. He brought it down—fast and brutal.
Viktor raised his sword to block the incoming blade, but his sword shattered. The cursed steel nearly carved through his torso, but he twisted just in time, dodging death by inches.
Boris wasted no time. His weapon dissolved, reforming into a long spear.
CURSE MAGIC: IMPALE!
The spear extended, its tip a blur of darkness.
Viktor ducked.
Then summoning a dagger Viktor struck back.
CURSE MAGIC: IMPALE!
CURSE MAGIC: UNHEALING WOUND!
He lunged forward, dagger poised for Boris's heart.
A manic grin split Viktor's face.
Finally… victory.
"Too slow."
What halted Viktor's vision of victory was his brother's knee crashing into his face with a sickening crack, sending him stumbling backward.
Seeing his older brother stagger, Boris lunged, thrusting his spear forward. But Viktor—resilient, relentless—steadied himself just in time. He raised his kite shield, deflecting the blow, and retaliated with a brutal front kick that forced Boris back, buying him a moment of breathing room.
Boris's eyes flicked to his brother's face. His nose was broken—badly—bent sideways and gushing blood.
Viktor spat out blood onto the snowy ground. Along with it came three of his front teeth. Despite the damage, he grinned—a savage, blood-slicked smile, eyes wild with joy.
He reached up and tore open his robe, baring his naked body to the freezing night. Stretching his arms wide, he revealed a torso riddled with scars—jagged, deep, old and new, like a roadmap of violence. His gaze locked on Boris's with a hungry, predatory intensity.
"YES! THAT IS THE POWER OF THE STRONGEST WARRIOR OUR FAMILY EVER BIRTHED! THE ONE BLESSED BY BABA YAGA HIMSELF!" Victor bellowed. "THE POWER THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE—THE ONE YOU STOLE FROM ME! I WANT IT BACK! I WANT IT NOW!"
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"I will devour you, brother."
"I'd like to see you try," Boris replied coldly.
Viktor laughed—low and dark. "YES! YES! I'VE WAITED MY WHOLE LIFE FOR THIS MOMENT! I'M GOING ALL OUT, BROTHER! NO ONE'S STOPPING ME THIS TIME! HAHAHAHA!"
The time had come. They both knew it. The battle would end tonight, and one of them would not live to see the dawn. So they did what they must.
'Three years of your lifespan has been taken as sacrifice.'
'Three years of your lifespan has been taken as sacrifice.'
'GREATER CURSE MAGIC: FIRST CIRCLE OF GREED!'
'GREATER CURSE MAGIC: FIRST CIRCLE OF GREED!'
'THE BLIND DEVOURER!!!'
'THE BLIND DEVOURER!!!'
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Meanwhile...
Nikolai was confused—and terrified.
One moment, he was eating dinner with his family. The next, he was sprinting through a snowstorm, his Mama carrying his crying sister as they ran into the dark forest.
'What's going on?'
"M-Mama? Why are we running? Why isn't Papa with us?" Anahera asked, clinging to her mother.
Aroha smiled gently, even as the snow bit at her skin. "Don't worry, Papa will join us soon."
The storm was relentless, snow piling thick on the ground, making each step harder than the last. But they kept going—running from something. Something evil. Nikolai didn't know what it was, but he felt it… stalking them.
He wanted his Papa. His father's presence always made him feel safe—like no monster in the world could touch him.
But Papa wasn't there.
And dread gnawed at his heart.
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They ran.
And ran.
And then—
Laughter.
Low, cruel laughter echoing through the trees. It didn't sound human.
It was getting closer.
Two hooded figures stepped into their path, as if the trees had given birth to them.
They pulled down their hoods—revealing identical female faces, twisted with bloodlust and hunger. Their smiles were razor-sharp, unnatural, and utterly horrifying. Nikolai's knees nearly buckled from fear. Anahera broke into uncontrollable sobs.
"Ah, look, sister—we've found them. He has such beautiful children, doesn't he?" the twin on the left said mockingly.
"Indeed, sister. We've traveled far for this reunion."
"Let's have a family reunion, shall we?" they said in perfect unison. But their voices warped—distorted—like something demonic was speaking through them.
Aroha stood frozen. These monsters wanted her children.
And she would never let them touch them.
"Nikolai." Her voice snapped him from his fear-induced daze.
He turned. Confused. Alarmed.
She placed his crying sister in his arms.
"Run. Don't look back."
"W-what? Mama, I don't understand!"
"Promise me. Protect your sister. No matter what."
"W-what are you saying?"
"Promise me, please. Don't let anything hurt her. Can you do that for Mama?"
Nikolai was crying. Trembling. Something was very wrong. His voice cracked as he choked on his fear.
Aroha tried to stay strong. But her own tears spilled freely as she pulled them into a tight, desperate embrace.
Oh, how she wished she could hold them forever.
"I'll never let anyone hurt Anahera, Mama. I promise." he whispered.
That was enough.
She smiled. "Thank you, my son. Now go. Run."
Anahera reached for her. "Mama...?"
"Don't worry, little angel. Your brother will protect you."
Aroha stepped forward. The twins grinned.
These monsters would die before they touched her babies.
Aroha reached deep inside—tapping into a power she hadn't used in years. Something ancient, something wild.
In her mind, a sound.
SNAP!!!
Then—
Carnage.
"MAMAAAAAA!!!"
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{ PRESENT DAY }
"MAMAAAAAA!!!"
Nikolai jolted upright, gasping for breath. Sweat poured from his face. His vision was blurred by tears. He looked around.
Empty room.
Everything hurt. His memories—fragmented. Broken. Voices and images danced in his skull like shards of glass.
"Where's Papa...? Mama...? Anahera...?"
He tried to stand. His legs gave out. He crashed to the floor.
"No! Get up! I must find my family!"
He dragged himself toward the door, staggering into the night.
He hated the dark.
It reminded him of that night.
"Papa...?"
"Mama...?"
"Anahera...?"
"Where are you...?"
He wandered the village aimlessly, muttering their names like a broken record. Desperate. Hollow. Hoping they'd answer back.
"Where is everyone...?"
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Being the only caramel-skinned man in the entire village made him stand out. The villagers noticed—the wild-looking stranger covered in scars, walking barefoot in the snow, babbling names no one recognized.
"Papa... Mama... Anahera..."
Concern turned to fear. A few villagers gathered and sent someone to fetch Erik, the Einherjar.
"They're not answering..." Nikolai whispered, over and over, voice rising with each repetition.
Until finally—
"PAPA!!!"
"MAMA!!!"
"ANAHERA!!!"
"WHERE ARE YOU? PLEASE ANSWER ME!!!"
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Erik rushed out the moment he heard. He didn't even stop to alert his wife.
He threw on a black cloak and cast a quick translation spell as he approached the weeping man in the snow.
"Hey. You're Nikolai, right? Are you okay? Need some help, my friend?"
Nikolai turned toward him. Eyes red. Tears still flowing.
Then—
In a blink—
Something changed.
The sorrow turned to rage. His expression twisted into one of pure hatred. Eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
"Uhhh... okay... you look a little unwell, buddy. Just trying to help, alright?" Erik raised his hands and stepped closer.
He reached out to comfort him.
Bad idea.
Nikolai summoned his sword and swung.
Erik barely dodged, jumping back as the blade sliced the air where his neck had been a moment ago.
"WHERE IS MY FAMILY!?" Nikolai roared.
His vision was warped—blurry. The man in front of him wore a black cloak. Just like them.
'He must be one of them.'
With a guttural growl, Nikolai summoned his armor. The Dane axe appeared in his hand.
The villagers gasped in horror.
The armor... the axe... it looked just like the ones the undead had worn.
He looked like one of them.
Nikolai tilted his head, eyes wild, voice low and dangerous.
"Tell me where my family is right now… or I'll kill you without mercy."
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
Hey everyone, I'm finally back after a month! My hand's mostly healed—just a few minor annoyances left. I hope you enjoyed this update! Please leave a comment or review—I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊
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