XVII.3
The night was still and peaceful, as many days were in the Academy. It was expected for almost all students and faculty to be resting in their beds, preparing for the next day. This day, however, fares differently. Shadows moved in the corners of the open walkways. Academy guards who stood in the way were incapacitated. These agile shades soon gathered on the rooftops of a building. There, four hooded figures stood overlooking the area. They can be described based on their respective roles: Lancer, Fighter, Samurai, and Leader.
“Woah, so this is what western forts look like? Everybody looks so carefree!” Fighter said.
“This is no fort. Our target is an educational administrator. I hope that hooded man was right about this information,” Leader came in.
“It’s not that I’m worried about. That yellow eye gives me the creeps…”
“I wonder why the Mistress aimed for her specifically. I was hoping for a worthy opponent to show up!” Lancer said. “Bah, another boring day.”
“Swiftly and with grace. Our task must be completed. To achieve her goals,” Samurai versed.
Leader looked at them, nodding. “I believe us four can take her on. If not, we will have to come with the others, but judging our capabilities, it won’t be necessary. Come, Phantoms of Sargata, we shall complete our Mistress’ task! For the mother of Chaos!”
“For the mother of Chaos!”
And so, the four Phantoms of Sargata made their way to the tallest tower. According to the information given by the mysterious hooded man, that was where their objective will be. On the base of the tower, they gathered together as Leader took out a talisman. The inscribed ink glyphs on the paper glowed and a spiritual bird manifested. It carried them all the way to the top with Lancer shattering the windows upon entry. They readied themselves for battle, only to see a woman standing with her back turned. She faced them as if she were expecting them.
“You finally came. I am Gloria Ambrosius and you must be my assailants,” she said. “Hmm, I was not expecting the Mistress’ elite to be all females.”
“You knew of our arrival?” Leader said.
“Of course. He told me about you, after all.”
The four looked at each other with confused gazes. Leader turned to Lancer and Samurai, gesturing them to go forth. Lancer’s spear was near Gloria’s neck while Samurai checked for any weapons. After clearing any signs of conflict, Samurai nodded and assumed stance. Gloria showed no fear as she went behind her desk. She snapped her fingers, opening a drawer. A rusted, cracked ax head levitated and rested on top of the desk. From its presence alone, the broken metal seethed with immeasurable power.
“I believe this is what you are looking for. The ax head of the legendary weapon, Ragnarök. Wielded by none other than the Hero King himself.”
Leader hovered her hand over the old ax head, attuning herself to the mana surrounding it. After a moment, she nodded and had Fighter collect it. “Yes, this is indeed what we are looking for. The Mistress will be pleased with your cooperation.”
“Leave and never come back. I want nothing from a band of cults like you.”
Fighter threw her hands down. “We are not cultists! Do any westerners have any decency calling people sensitive names?!”
“Proper their claim is. Cultists of the Phantoms once were. But we changed for better,” Samurai corrected.
“It doesn’t matter who or what you are, I want you out and to never return!” Gloria said.
Lancer raised her spear close to her throat again. “As pleased as we are, there is one more thing we require: your mana.”
“W-What?! No detail was mentioned about that!”
“All is well for the Mistress of Sargata. For she will bring upon this world’s salvation.” Leader took out a wrapped roped crystal with several talismans attached to it. “My people used objects like this to trap demons in it. I have repurposed it to take the mana essence from someone without killing them. Do this and I swear upon the Mistress’ name we won’t return.”
Gloria lowered her eyes. After some time, she put out her hand. “So be it. Upon your Mistress’ name.”
The front door of the office swung open violently, and Gloria’s eyes widened. It was the person she last wanted to come through those doors, especially in a situation like this. Her own son, Merlin, had come.
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Merlin made his way to Gloria’s personal room. Academy security roamed around the main building, looking for any students out past their curfew and keeping the area secure. He was immune to the curfew rule because of his relationship with the Head Maester, so the guards gave him a greeting nod or said their hellos. After taking the elevator to the Crown floor, he went to the right and at the end of the corridor, her room was in front of him. He did his usual knock, each met without a response at the other end. It was this silence that conjured the thought of her being in her usual office, so he traveled to the special elevator. Two guards saluted and brought him up. He exited the cabin, turning around. The doors close behind him.
There was no turning back now.
It perplexed him to how he would approach her. It wouldn’t be easy to walk in and act like nothing happened. Merlin thought about what Aren would do and with some contemplation, he believed his teacher would go with the flow than to conjure a plan. His heart raced as he anxiously ambled to the middle section of the corridor. Before he could progress further, goosebumps arose from the back of his neck. Instinctively, he turned, seeing a mysterious figure looming some distance. He wasn’t able to distinguish any noticeable features other than a black hooded robe with a yellow right eye glowing underneath its shadow. The figure raised their head slowly, revealing a strangely comforting smile.
“We finally meet, Merlin Ambrosius,” they said. The pitch of their voice was low, so Merlin assumed it was a man speaking to him.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“W-Who are you? How did you get here?”
“Do you desire power?”
“… What?”
“You want to be strong so others can recognize you as their equal. Perhaps even more.” The hooded figured showed his palm. “It’s the reason you worked so hard to obtain it. Though you cannot notice, you already have what you seek.”
“I already have… power?”
“Without the intervention of the Head Maester, you would have strength beyond imagination. Your gift has yet to awaken, young Merlin. With my help, it shall fully wake.”
Merlin gazed with a confused look. It took him some time to realize what he was referring to. “My demon side is the source of my strength? But everyone says…”
“They fear for what you will become.” The hooded man lent his hand. “Reclaim what was yours. Take my hand.”
Merlin reached out slowly, but pulled back in hesitation. “I… I can’t. As much as I want to be strong, it won’t be in means of evil. I’m sorry.”
“How unfortunate. I sought for your approval, but it seems I have no choice. Destiny demands it.”
A gust of wind passed by Merlin’s hair. The hooded figure in front of him disappeared. Before he could make any reaction, his muscles tightened around the back of his neck. His body ached and jolted, as if lightning struck him. Seconds passed, and he fell on his knees, gasping for air. An unnatural sensation came over him: hatred and the need to kill those who wronged him. Despite the pain all over his person, he perceived no physical harm done to him. He looked around, observing the fact that the hooded figure disappeared. Though there was no presence, he heard his voice resonating in his mind.
“If you truly believe you can cast aside your demon persona, then the upcoming trial shall be your test. I trust in our future endeavors…”
He ran to the Head Maester’s office, forcing the front doors open. There, he saw Gloria being held at spear point, along with four different hooded individuals. Unlike the mysterious figure from before, he could somewhat distinguish their facial features. They were all women!
“Merlin, get back!” Gloria said.
“Head Maester, what is this? Who are these people?!”
Merlin felt something sharp near his throat. He looked to his right, seeing a blade being held close to his neck.
“If you move, you die,” Samurai warned.
“Gen—tch, Samurai, stop. You are only making things worse,” said Leader. She turned to see a glowing aura around the Head Maester. “And it has gone worse.”
Gloria tightened her hands into a fist as her aura continued to glow brighter. Fissures erupted on the ground beneath her, and she glared at them with raging eyes. “You dare threaten me and use my son as hostage?! You’ll regret being alive when I’m done with you all!”
She manifested arcane circles, and the room exploded. Merlin was knocked back, his ears ringing and vision disoriented. He got back on his feet, vigorously coughing as his eyes waited for the smoke to settle. Everyone in the office was gone and there was an enormous hole in where the desk used to be. He limped his way there and saw the battle unfold in the Gardens. The Head Maester and her opponents were moving faster than his eyes could keep up with besides the constant metal sparks, lightning-based attacks, and constant explosions.
The Academy Guards were quickly dispatched to eliminate the threat, though each one was swooped away like rag dolls. Bodies of the guards were scattered all over and blood painted the walls and the grounds. Gloria pointed at a group and though Merlin couldn’t hear what she was saying, by the gestures alone, she most likely told them to stay away. She tried to lead the assailants away, only for two out of the four to follow her. The other two hooded women slaughtered the remaining guards with no mercy.
“Merlin, Merlin!” someone called him. He turned to see Layette running with an escort. “Godsdamnit, we were too late!”
Merlin shook his head. “N-No! I got to be down there to help! My moth—I mean, the Head Maester is in danger!”
“No, it is too unsafe. You two, get him to safety. Gods, where’s my father when all this is happening?!”
“B-But surely I can do—!”
She flared her eyes. “You would not be able to do anything! Please, for the sake of your life and everyone else’s, stay out of this!”
Merlin gritted his teeth and he lowered his face. The guard patted his shoulder, urging him to leave. Layette unsheathed her new sword. She leaped from the tower, leaving a shock-wave in her former place. Within a blink of an eye, her blade was near one of the assailant’s neck. The foe responded with equal speed, deflecting her blow and came down her with a strange sword. They exchanged blow-to- blow as gusts of air violently churned around them. The combatants backed off after releasing their arrangement of attacks, both in awe of each other’s skill.
“I see, impressive. You excite me, westerner. Come, let us fight more,” the Samurai said.
“You are not bad yourself. For such a frail-looking blade, it has not broken yet. That is pure technique, for sure,” Layette said. “Have at it, fiend!”
She charged at her opponent. Instincts warned her of an impending attack, so her body shifted, dodging a stabbing blow from her left. After evading several lunging strikes, she created some distance to evaluate the situation. The other Phantom, Lancer, twirled her spear and let out a prideful laugh.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Are you even trying? There’s only one person in the world that could last that long against you. Of course, I am talking about myself. Leave this one to me,” Lancer came in.
“Fool, you take my prey? Truly dishonorable. You owe me one, yes?”
“Heh, if you insist. If she lives, she’ll be yours the next time you two meet.”
“I see, very well. Good fortunes, my friend.”
Samurai sheathed her blade and disappeared into the night. Lancer twirled her spear around and assumed her stance, and Layette did the same.
“One does not get a chance to fight against a member within the infamous Divine Circle of Damore. It is most regrettable I get to fight the weakest among them,” Lancer said. “I’m talking about you, by the way, Phoenix of Damore.”
“Says the person hiding behind their hood. You act confident, yet your demeanor shows otherwise.”
Lancer chuckled and with no hesitation, she unraveled her hood. Long blonde hair fell down to her shoulders, strands smooth as silk. At the ends, they curled in a swirl-like shape. Her green eyes fluttered with grace and with it, a cocky grin. Layette did not expect someone that beautiful to exist on a battlefield like this. The amount of makeup and styling was absurd, especially when such would be ruined in the heat of battle. Still, it did not help her confidence at all.
“Aha, is that jealously I spot? Of course, no woman could ever compare against me. I’m just that good, aren’t I?” Lancer prattled.
“I-I-I’m not jealous! Grr, I’ll show you one better!”
Layette’s blade ignited in flame and with several slashes, she sent waves of fire to Lancer. Her opponent dodged with ease, stepping side to side as if she were dancing. Layette closed the distance between them and the two traded blows. It was one-sided at first with Layette at the offensive, but with Lancer’s superior range, the tables had turned. It became difficult to get an opening as the fight progressed and Layette could not leave any openings. Lancer picked up her speed, knocking her all over the place. She almost became a blur, and it was pure instinct that kept Layette alive. After getting some distance between Lancer, she raised her sword in the air. Fire swirled from the blade like a tornado, manifesting a giant bird from its tip. The intense heat was enough to ablaze the surrounding area around her.
“BLAZING INFERNO!” she yelled. With a downward slash, she sent the flaming bird to her. Everything was burnt to a crisp in its path.
Lancer twirled her spear and her weapon radiated a mystical blue energy. The flaming bird was an arms-length away, opening its jaws to swallow her whole. “Almáttigr Líflát!”
With a thrust, a yellow beam of light shot out from her spear, instantly killing the fiery bird. The death of the creature caused gale winds to surge all over, engulfing the entire area in flames. Layette’s right pectoralis had a gaping hole and when she noticed it, she writhed in pain. Lancer let out a sigh, twirling her spear and resting it on her two shoulders.
“So, you live. Had I wanted to, you would’ve been dead before you knew it. Thank my compatriot for her mercy.” Lancer turned her back. “I admit, you made me get serious there. Get strong and maybe next time, you’ll be a worthy opponent. Farewell, Phoenix of Damore.”
Lancer jumped into the night sky, leaving a crater behind. Layette was determined to give chase, though her injuries got the best of her. This was not the first time she had been inflicted with such wounds, but this one was different. It was as if the agony etched itself within every fiber of her body. As the pool of blood formed, darkness was taking hold. A silhouette appeared, calling her name. The raging fires were the last thing she heard before fading into her subconsciousness.