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Chapter 715  The Weight Of Trust (2)

"Ashton, I assure you, I had no part in changing the plans," Astaroth declared, his tone firm.

Ashton narrowed his eyes, the echo of Jo\'Han\'s words haunting his thoughts. \'Do not trust anyone, not even the one within you.\'

"You expect me to believe that?" Ashton blurted out. "Rood was going to give me the Soul Killer, and suddenly, the plan shifts, and it\'s for you?" Ashton\'s frustration was evident in his words as Astartoh stood before him calmly and collectedly. Even though he had no role in Rood\'s plan, he had been aware of the change and didn\'t object to it. In Astaroth\'s eyes, he had used the Soul Killer once, so handing him the weapon capable of killing the Precursors was an obvious choice. Astaroth had expected Ashton to understand, but it didn\'t seem likely that this would happen soon. Moreover, the reason Ashton had hidden the truth about his lineage from him meant that he could have hidden more things from Astaroth, and in that case, it was better for him to have control over the Soul Killer. "I have no reason to betray you," Astaroth said, his expression hardening. "I\'ve been by your side since the beginning and helped you as promised. Why would I betray you when we\'re close to achieving our goal?"

Jo\'Han\'s warning once again echoed in Ashton\'s mind. This time, louder than ever before. He took a step closer, his voice laced with suspicion. "Yes, you\'ve been by my side, but whose agenda are you really following, Astaroth? Is this some ploy to seize power for yourself? Or something even worse?" "Power? Do you think I crave power? You never understood me, did you?" Astaroth\'s eyes flared with offense. "I have no desire for power. My only goal is to help you achieve yours."

The room felt charged, the weight of their conflicting emotions pressing against the futuristic walls. Ashton\'s hand clenched into a fist. "You can\'t blame me for doubting you," Ashton commented. "You have been behaving strangely ever since we got separated, and now this? How do you expect me to trust you?"

Astaroth\'s resolve hardened. "I won\'t stand here and be accused of treachery. If you don\'t trust me, then so be it."

Ashton\'s frustration boiled over, and he lunged at Astaroth. The two clashed in a furious scuffle of anger and mistrust. The room became an arena of swirling shadows and bursts of energy. Ashton\'s fists blazed with aetheric power as he aimed relentless strikes at Astaroth. Astaroth, in turn, showcased his skill, effortlessly dodging and parrying Ashton\'s attacks. Ashton was enraged beyond the limit as if someone else was controlling him.

As they brought out their swords, the metallic echoes of their confrontation reverberated through the chamber. Blue lights flickered and dimmed with the intensity of the blow they exchanged. Ashton, almost possessed, pressed on, each strike infused with the weight of his distrust and unadulterated rage. Astaroth, however, matched Ashton\'s aggression with controlled precision.

His movements were like a beautiful dance, a symphony of calculated defence and counterattacks. Astaroth\'s experience slowly began overwhelming Ashton\'s rage. He avoided the full force of Ashton\'s blows, responding with measured strikes that tested Ashton\'s resilience. Fueled by frustration, Ashton unleashed his Precursor powers, creating shockwaves that rippled through the room. Astaroth, not one to be outdone, summoned his strength, a golden aura enveloping him as he countered Ashton\'s assault.

Since Astaroth\'s body was cloned from Ashton\'s, it had retained some Precursor properties, and as such, Astaroth had some residual Precursor powers to counter Ashton\'s. Their powers clashed like cosmic storms, shaking the very foundation of the council room. The struggle between trust and doubt manifested in every movement, every collision of force.

The battle reached its zenith when Ashton, his aetheric energy blazing, attempted a final, overwhelming strike. Astaroth, anticipating the move, deftly redirected the force, leaving Ashton off balance. In a swift motion, Astaroth seized the opportunity, disarming Ashton and pinning him against the walls. Ashton tried to fight, but Astaroth\'s grip was firm, and the golden-skinned Xyran held Ashton in place with unyielding strength.

The room, previously filled with the crackling energy of their battle, now hung in an uneasy silence. Blue lights flickered erratically, casting intermittent shadows that danced across Ashton\'s strained features.

Astaroth, his golden eyes unwavering, stared into Ashton\'s eyes with concern. The aftermath of their struggle seemed to linger in the air; a visible tension mirrored their rift.

"This distrust will be our undoing, Ashton," Astaroth grunted as he held Ashton in place. "I am not your enemy."

Ashton, breathing heavily, glared up at Astaroth. "Prove it."

With that, Astaroth released his hold on Ashton, stepping back to create a measured distance between them. Though no longer physically restrained, Ashton felt the weight of mistrust and doubt settling in the room.

"I need to claim the Soul Killer," Astaroth mumbled, his gaze piercing through the tension between them. "Whether you believe me or not, it stays in Xyran hands. If you think I\'m your enemy, deal with it when the time comes."

"Believe me, I will."

The words hung in the air, and the weight of trust felt heavier than ever. Ashton, still seething with rage, turned his gaze away from his \'brother\'. Astaroth wanted to clear the mistrust between them. But it was getting late for the ritual to claim the Soul Killer, and he had to turn away, leaving Ashton alone in the council room.

Once alone in the dimly lit chamber, Ashton wrestled with his conflicted emotions. On one side, he wanted to trust Astaroth, but on the other, his father\'s warning echoed louder, and the uncertainty of their alliance gnawed at him.