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CHAPTER 275
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
(LAST WEEK'S CHAPTER 1/2)
...
In the crucible of this purification ritual, Aermir faced the culmination of his efforts, the convergence of fire and nature in a desperate bid to repel the Night King's malevolence, but the power of purification was too powerful for Aermir to bear, and he started to release an excruciating scream. The power was so pure his body was not able to contain it; it felt like trying to put 2 liters into a 1-liter vessel. It felt like he was getting ripped apart. His body was dying because it couldn't contain the mana; his cells were bursting, but he could also feel the marking curse was weakening. Aermir grind his teeth and shouted,
"Wildfire spirit, push everything you've got!"
For a second, the inferno grew small, but then, with an explosion of energy, it reached the sky, creating a verdant pillar with silver and crimson hues. With the last bit of his mana, Aermir used his most powerful healing spell.
"Reogumen! (Regrowth)"
As he cast his final spell, the seal around the mark broke, and a crack appeared beneath his feet and formed a portal that swallowed him. He fell through the darkness, and when Aermir opened his eyes, he was on a frozen plain, but when he saw what was right in front of him. His heart started to beat with fear.
Aermir, surrounded by the frigid wasteland and the ominous presence of the Night King and his retinue of white walkers, felt a shiver run down his spine. Night King's icy eyes were locked on Aermir, and he had an arrogant smile on his pale lips. Aermir realized he still had the mark, but his mana was replenished; he couldn't decide if this was astral travel or if he thoroughly pulled Aermir to him with a portal.
Aermir, grappling with the implications of his situation, tested if this was an astral travel. He tried to fly as he did when he astral traveled, but he couldn't, and the sensation of his hands touching the cold snow left him bewildered. His senses worked perfectly. The disconcerting realization dawned on him—this was no astral projection or mere dream. Could it be possible? Everything was real?
Aermir had heard greenseers could travel in time and space, and interacting with past people was seen as forbidden. So it was not that farfetched for Night King to summon him using his mark, like how he can summon his familiars using their connection. He had never thought this was possible, as a thousand things were going through his head.
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In the midst of his contemplations, a voice colder than the arctic winds cut through the silence. "You are fighting for a lost cause; I will add you to my army," the Night King declared, his words hanging in the air like an impending storm.
Aermir, steeling himself against the icy dread that threatened to engulf him, raised his gaze to meet the Night King's piercing stare. "I fight not for myself but for the realms of men and the balance of nature," Aermir responded, determination lacing his words. But this was all false bravado to buy time, to think. "Your conquest will bring only death and endless winter. I stand against you, not for a lost cause, but for the living and the future that still breathes within this world."
The Night King's laughter, an eerie symphony of malevolence, reverberated through the desolation. Rather than laughter, it sounded more like icy shards scratching each other.
His icy eyes bore into Aermir, the smirk on his pale lips widening. "The living cling to false hope, Druid. Your futile resistance will only hasten their demise; as you strengthen the magic, I get more powerful too, and in time, your ancient wards will not protect you."
Aermir, undeterred by the Night King's mockery, stood resolute. "You underestimate the resilience of the living. It is not false hope but the tenacity to endure, to strive for a future beyond the icy grip of your dominion. Your vision of conquest is a mockery of true strength—the strength found in the delicate balance of life and death."
The Night King raised an icy hand, and the white walkers flanked him, their frigid gazes fixed on Aermir. "You, Druid, are but a fleeting ember in the face of the encroaching eternal winter. Join us, embrace the endless night, and become a herald of the cold. Your futile defiance will not alter the inevitable. Join my master."
Aermir's eyes gleamed with a quivering light. His master, who was he talking about? He needed to stall; he needed more information. "I will not yield to the darkness you seek to spread. The realms of men will endure, and the forces of nature will rise against your tyranny." it looked like the Night King wouldn't allow it. The white walkers charged towards him, and channeling the mana he had replenished, he slammed his hands to the ground and created an earthen dome around himself.
He needed time to think; his breathing became erratic. He felt like something was suffocating him. He was having a panic attack. He slapped himself and started to calm himself down. He could feel his magic and cast it; this had to be real; last time, he didn't have his senses and couldn't cast spells.
BANG!
Despite the relentless assault of ice spears starting to pierce the dome around him, Aermir focused on his summoning spell. With each hit, he glimpsed the sharp tips of the frozen projectiles and the urgency of the situation pressed upon him. Time was of the essence, and he knew he had to be ready.
Drawing upon the mana that coursed through him, Aermir called upon each of his familiars. With his familiars gathered around him, Aermir could feel the magical connection that bound them together. The dome, battered by the relentless assault, provided a temporary sanctuary for his conjured allies.
Aermir, surrounded by his familiars, armed with the Red Rain, and pulling Moonreaver from Sith's saddle, knew that facing magical beings required more than just summoning. Drawing upon the remaining mana reservoir, he channeled his magic and buffed them to their physical zenith.
Not stopping there, Aermir encased each familiar in two layers of protection, weaving intricate shield spells around them and casting the stone skin buff on them. Though encased in stone, the familiars retained most of their agility, ready to face the magical adversaries that awaited.
Turning his attention to himself, Aermir replicated the protective layers on his own form. The stony armor enveloped him, and he put the Red Rain on his waist, then held the Moonreaver in one hand as he mounted Sith. As he was getting ready, a bigger, more formidable ice spear penetrated their dome in its entirety. It's a good thing it didn't hit anyone. Aermir could sense the magical aura around the Night King, and he did not take Aermir seriously.
A deep breath steadied his resolve as he unleashed another earth spell. The dome exploded like a claymore, sending shards of rocks hurtling in all directions.
The impact was felt as the rocks struck the approaching white walkers; some were pushed back or injured, though their magical resilience allowed them to quickly recover from the minor wounds. Aermir, now free from the confinements of the dome, spurred Sith forward, leading his familiars into the heart of the magical maelstrom that awaited them.